There isn’t much more room left. After the Red Sox crushing game seven loss to the Yanks last year (which by the way ranks as one of the top three worst moments of my life) it seems that loving the loser sox is the coolest thing you can do in the world of sports fandom, so get on now.
I, like many of my friends and all of my family, have been a sox fan from birth. “Born into it” as some would say, the 86 sox make up some of my earliest childhood memories. I can vividly remember the Dave Henderson homerun off of Donnie Moore in the ALCS back on that October Sunday. It happened right around the time when I started collecting baseball cards, which basically involved my picking out the Red Sox guys and throwing the rest into a shoe box. I went to game every year on my birthday and always brought my glove, once being so lucky as to have it autographed by Rick Honeycutt from the A’s.
I guess not much has changed. Now I go to tours of Fenway on off days, I have a beat up sox hat I always have with me, I sneak out of weddings I am at to the hotel bar to catch the game, and I will eat cereal for a week if it means I have an extra $50 to get some nosebleed seats to a Tuesday night game in July.
I wrote 4 more paragraphs on why I hate how Red Sox nation is becoming over-run with “Johnny Damon Come Latelys” and how I resent them as a self-described true fan, but I am going to cut it off here. Go Sox, and I guess it could be worse…we could live in Oakland.
Oh…and enough with that awful Tessie song. It is horrible, and so are the god damned Dropkick Murphys.
Leave a Reply