Red Sox Win!
Oct. 29th, 2007 10:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
janradderEric Wilbur, blogger for the Boston Globe has a great article about the difference between being a Red Sox fan pre and post-2004:
http://www.boston.com/sports/nesn/wilbur/sports_blog/blog/2007/10/29/expansion_dream/
I remember in 2003, after Grady Little struck and Game 7 turned into such a nightmare. When Aaron Boone hit his walk off I leapt to my feet, ran from the house screaming "GODDAMMITTT!" I found myself in the middle of the intersection near our house and lifting my head to the sky screamed, "Fuck You!" as loud as I could to no one in particular. I have no idea what propelled me to do this other than sheer anger and frustration that the Sox had again lost, and again done it in such grisly fashion. (Two weeks later our neighbor would ask us if we had heard someone running through our yard swearing. He had considered calling the cops. It was me, I had to confess.) The next day I walked around feeling angry and numb at the same time. Hadddayr and I took Arie, who was then a year and a half old (there was no Éiden yet) to Lake Nokomis where we walked by the lake and then went down to the beach. Arie wore his Red Sox cap and waded knee deep in the water looking for rocks. As I watched him, I thought, what am I bringing him into? Do I really want him to become a Red Sox fan? Do I really want him to become this obsessed and involved in whether or not a team wins or loses especially when that team seemed to always lose, no matter what? I didn't know the answer and actually thought to myself that maybe he wouldn't care about baseball or sports and that that would be a good thing.
The next year, the Red Sox had reloaded, adding Curt Schilling and Keith Foulke, strengthening two weaknesses. I had thought in 2003 that this was the year -- somehow they would actually pull off winning the World Series but as spring training grew closer I became positive that 2004 was the year. I started to keep a scrapbook beginning in the off-season. I printed and collected articles about how the Red Sox went about building their team and what their chances were for the coming year. In spring training I kept the stats of all the players and charted wins and losses. When the season opened I continued to select articles that I felt documented each day of the season best. I continued to record wins and losses on the season schedule I had taped to a cabinet door and I saved the box score from each and every game. Each month went into a three ring binder and as the season went on, my stack of papers grew. I was so convinced that this was the year, I wanted to document it and save it, not just for myself, but for my sons -- both Arie and his soon to be born brother, Éiden. So as I selected articles, I chose ones that would best describe not only the games, but what it was like to be a Red Sox fan waiting for that first World Series victory.
When the Red Sox finally did win, and in such amazing fashion, it was unbelievable. Haddayr claims that I picked her up off the couch and shook her like a rag doll when they clinched in St. Louis though I don't remember it. I felt like I was floating for weeks. For so long, I and others like me, had dreamed of this moment -- what we would do, how it would feel like, who we would call, how would it change things. Some even feared that it might be a disappointment -- that Red Sox fans were so caught up in the team being lovable losers who can't win the big one that it would ruin the experience of being a Red Sox fan. I can say for myself that it really was a wonderful feeling. I don't know why I get so caught up in the team's fortunes or why that 2004 title felt so personal when I had nothing to do with it except to put my loyalties with the Red Sox and watch the games but it did feel personal and I know I'm not the only fan who felt that way.
Flash forward to today and my boys have gone off to school after watching a tape of the Red Sox clinching last night. They are both decked out in their hats and jerseys and today, instead of pretending to be superheroes as they usually do, they are pretending to be Red Sox players. Arie will only answer to Big Papi while Éiden claims to be a cat who plays for the Red Sox. Both boys know that the Red Sox won the World Series and that this is a big deal in baseball and both boys feel happy that the Sox won. To Arie, who because he is five and a half understands the concept of the World Series a little more than Éiden, the Red Sox are and always have been winners. He doesn't think of the Red Sox as being a team that always lost the big game. He won't grow up wondering if he or his father or his grandmother will ever live to see the Red Sox win a World Series like I did. After the game was over last night, Haddayr said to me, "So is it going to take another 86 years without a World Series title for you to pick me up and shake me again?" The answer was yes. As happy as I was after the win last night it wasn't the same as 2004 -- there certainly wasn't that sense of relief mixed in with the euphoria.
Eric Wilbur wrote about watching Game 6 in 1986 when he was 12 and crying afterwards. He said his mother came and sat on his bed and apologized, not for the game but for passing on a passion for the Red Sox. I won't have to do something similar for Arie or Éiden (and there was a time I felt that I would) and part of me is glad for that. But at the same time, I don't think Arie or Éiden will know how that 2004 title felt because they won't have known all that pain, heartbreak, and disappointment and without that, the winning really isn't the same. If they want to, though, I've got plenty of scrapbooks for them to try to relive what it was like.
http://www.boston.com/sports/nesn/wilbur/sports_blog/blog/2007/10/29/expansion_dream/
I remember in 2003, after Grady Little struck and Game 7 turned into such a nightmare. When Aaron Boone hit his walk off I leapt to my feet, ran from the house screaming "GODDAMMITTT!" I found myself in the middle of the intersection near our house and lifting my head to the sky screamed, "Fuck You!" as loud as I could to no one in particular. I have no idea what propelled me to do this other than sheer anger and frustration that the Sox had again lost, and again done it in such grisly fashion. (Two weeks later our neighbor would ask us if we had heard someone running through our yard swearing. He had considered calling the cops. It was me, I had to confess.) The next day I walked around feeling angry and numb at the same time. Hadddayr and I took Arie, who was then a year and a half old (there was no Éiden yet) to Lake Nokomis where we walked by the lake and then went down to the beach. Arie wore his Red Sox cap and waded knee deep in the water looking for rocks. As I watched him, I thought, what am I bringing him into? Do I really want him to become a Red Sox fan? Do I really want him to become this obsessed and involved in whether or not a team wins or loses especially when that team seemed to always lose, no matter what? I didn't know the answer and actually thought to myself that maybe he wouldn't care about baseball or sports and that that would be a good thing.
The next year, the Red Sox had reloaded, adding Curt Schilling and Keith Foulke, strengthening two weaknesses. I had thought in 2003 that this was the year -- somehow they would actually pull off winning the World Series but as spring training grew closer I became positive that 2004 was the year. I started to keep a scrapbook beginning in the off-season. I printed and collected articles about how the Red Sox went about building their team and what their chances were for the coming year. In spring training I kept the stats of all the players and charted wins and losses. When the season opened I continued to select articles that I felt documented each day of the season best. I continued to record wins and losses on the season schedule I had taped to a cabinet door and I saved the box score from each and every game. Each month went into a three ring binder and as the season went on, my stack of papers grew. I was so convinced that this was the year, I wanted to document it and save it, not just for myself, but for my sons -- both Arie and his soon to be born brother, Éiden. So as I selected articles, I chose ones that would best describe not only the games, but what it was like to be a Red Sox fan waiting for that first World Series victory.
When the Red Sox finally did win, and in such amazing fashion, it was unbelievable. Haddayr claims that I picked her up off the couch and shook her like a rag doll when they clinched in St. Louis though I don't remember it. I felt like I was floating for weeks. For so long, I and others like me, had dreamed of this moment -- what we would do, how it would feel like, who we would call, how would it change things. Some even feared that it might be a disappointment -- that Red Sox fans were so caught up in the team being lovable losers who can't win the big one that it would ruin the experience of being a Red Sox fan. I can say for myself that it really was a wonderful feeling. I don't know why I get so caught up in the team's fortunes or why that 2004 title felt so personal when I had nothing to do with it except to put my loyalties with the Red Sox and watch the games but it did feel personal and I know I'm not the only fan who felt that way.
Flash forward to today and my boys have gone off to school after watching a tape of the Red Sox clinching last night. They are both decked out in their hats and jerseys and today, instead of pretending to be superheroes as they usually do, they are pretending to be Red Sox players. Arie will only answer to Big Papi while Éiden claims to be a cat who plays for the Red Sox. Both boys know that the Red Sox won the World Series and that this is a big deal in baseball and both boys feel happy that the Sox won. To Arie, who because he is five and a half understands the concept of the World Series a little more than Éiden, the Red Sox are and always have been winners. He doesn't think of the Red Sox as being a team that always lost the big game. He won't grow up wondering if he or his father or his grandmother will ever live to see the Red Sox win a World Series like I did. After the game was over last night, Haddayr said to me, "So is it going to take another 86 years without a World Series title for you to pick me up and shake me again?" The answer was yes. As happy as I was after the win last night it wasn't the same as 2004 -- there certainly wasn't that sense of relief mixed in with the euphoria.
Eric Wilbur wrote about watching Game 6 in 1986 when he was 12 and crying afterwards. He said his mother came and sat on his bed and apologized, not for the game but for passing on a passion for the Red Sox. I won't have to do something similar for Arie or Éiden (and there was a time I felt that I would) and part of me is glad for that. But at the same time, I don't think Arie or Éiden will know how that 2004 title felt because they won't have known all that pain, heartbreak, and disappointment and without that, the winning really isn't the same. If they want to, though, I've got plenty of scrapbooks for them to try to relive what it was like.
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Date: 2007-10-29 07:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-29 08:04 pm (UTC)