For those of you who will be visiting Fenway this year, welcome to the neighborhood.

Red Sox Nation, that virtual continent that Yankee boss Hank Steinbrenner refuses to recognize, has now been broken down into “hoods.”

The Disney corporation, and many other operators of establishments that cater to the public, use the phrase “points of purchase” when speaking of getting into your wallet.

Those points are locations where you can spend dollars on something, anything. The trick for the companies is figuring out the maximum number of such locations in a place such as Disneyland that will result in a profit.

Another term used in the modern business world of “spin” is “streams of revenue.” That refers to figuring out how many ways a business can make money off the same item – a video game, a jacket, a baseball team – by selling the product on different “platforms.”

Take baseball. A team can sell tickets, sell TV rights, sell all the stuff at the souvenir stands, sell TV and radio time, sell videos of the games, sell tours of the park, sell the Web site – you get the idea.

All right, back to the neighborhood thing. My favorite neighborhoods are Bradbury Street in Old Town and the one made famous by Mr. Rodgers. Now come the Sox.

They have sold sections of Fenway for BIG BUCKS: just for advertising purposes.

There is now a soft drink corner that will be duly noted with signage. This neighborhood is not priceless – it reportedly cost about $4-5 million a year.

There is a beer-roof deck, a vodka clubhouse, a bank pavilion, a furniture third-base deck and a doughnut company dugout (it rhymes). There will be more.

The marketing gurus of the Sox call these sections of Fenway “neighborhoods.”

For those in the banking business, the Sox are now more than ever, a “cash cow.”

Nothing wrong with that. That is how Sox fans will get to keep old Fenway no matter how many visiting teams can’t stand the locker room or the foul smelling runway from the clubhouse to the dugout.

Tough. You are in the hood now, get over it.

Wait a minute.

How about the air freshener visitor clubhouse and the sewerage treatment company runway? Those have to be worth a million a year.

Just think how bad you are going to feel – how left out -when you get to the old Boston ballyard and find you are just in some seat with no sense of place and purpose.

You just know some beer- loaded loony will be screaming that you are a fan without a country, a booster without a logo, a member of a nation without a hood.

Oh well. Buy a scoresheet and actually watch the game. Maybe the next hood will be a quiet section with no cell phones, no liquor and no idiots – but only if somebody is willing to buy it.

bdnsports@bangordailynews.net