Sweet Caroline and One More Time: Blink-182 takes over Fenway park

There are nights in life that remind you why music matters. Why it stays stitched to your soul, marking chapters of your existence. For me, July 23rd, 2024, was one of those nights. Blink-182 at Fenway Park—an iconic band at an iconic venue—felt like an unholy communion of nostalgia, rebellion, and joy.

The energy in Fenway was electric long before the band hit the stage. The pit, where I stood shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of others, was its own world—sweaty, chaotic, alive. It was surreal being right there, screaming lyrics next to none other than former Massachusetts Governor Charlie Baker. And let me tell you, he knew every single word. Watching him yell along to “What’s My Age Again?” was almost as thrilling as the set itself. Almost.

This tour was special for many reasons, but one standout was their rotating setlist, which featured a deep cut each night. When the familiar bassline of Carousel started—Blink’s very first song ever written—the crowd erupted. It was like the universe had pressed rewind. For those of us who had been there since the beginning, it felt like a gift. A reminder of what it was like to first hear these three kids from Southern California singing about their awkward, messy lives—lives that felt so much like our own. LISTEN AND WATCH HERE.

From Dumpweed to I Miss You to Dammit, every song hit like a gut punch and a hug all at once. I wore my custom made “Apple Shampoo” tank made by Cosmic Outlaw . It was a big hit and as usual, fans tried to buy it right off my back. This tank is the perfect nod to the band and the era they defined.

After an unrelenting encore, the show ended, but Fenway wasn’t done with us yet. As the band left the stage, Boston’s anthem, Sweet Caroline, blasted over the stadium speakers. It was a moment only Fenway could deliver. The entire crowd—tens of thousands strong—sang along, arms around one another, faces lit up with sweat and euphoria. And just when we thought it was over, Blink ran back out onto the stage, bowing, twirling, and dancing like the maniacs they are. It was pure chaos. Pure joy. Pure Blink-182.

Walking out of Fenway that night, I was overwhelmed with gratitude—for this band, for these moments, and for this city. Blink-182 isn’t just a band. They’re a portal to who we were, who we are, and who we hope to be. And for one night at Fenway, they were ours.