Wednesday, July 21, 2004
I don’t know about the rest of Red Sox nation, but during that last game against Seattle the other day, there was a big part of me that wanted them to blow that lead and lose. Because, truth be told, I don’t think I can take it anymore and a prolonged losing streak would probably make the rest of my summer much more enjoyable.
The pain from last season lingered like the back end of late night burrito after a night of tequila and beer. That is to say, it hurt. Sure, I tried optimism over the winter and, the Patriots winning the Super Bowl sure helped, but as soon as pitchers and catchers reported, I realized I wasn’t emotionally ready for this season to begin.
The baseball season is long, we all know this, especially as Red Sox fans. You would think, being the self-tortured souls that we are, we would know that taking six of seven games from the Yankees before Memorial Day meant jack-squat. But, no, Sox fans were all over this. I warned my friends to take heed, but still they yammered on, in every medium they could; from sports radio to the myriad of web site dedicated to discussing the team.
Which reminds, am I only the one out there that think the likes of a certain Sox player and a certain prominent owner shouldn’t be spouting opinions on these message boards? I mean, the media is one thing, but how can you possibly feel the need to explain yourself to people in an anonymous forum who probably have the Sox chat up in one browser and the latest Pam Anderson video in another? Sox fans are cynical by nature, but the lunacy perpetuated through some of these virtual discussions is manic.
But, I digress. To each his own I suppose. After all, it is the forlorn right of every Sox fan to jump on and off the bandwagon of players and managers several times a season.
I set out to avoid getting sucked into all things Sox as much as possible this year. Choosing to not watch nor attend a single game in its entirety until after July 4th, I figured I would be able to at least shield myself from some of the heartbreak.
It sort of worked.
For a couple of months there, I followed the team via box scores and the newspapers. It gave me just enough info to maintain a working knowledge of the season without driving me too far off the edge. However, what I found when I jumped back on board nearly three weeks ago is that being a Red Sox fan is like being a former addict. I had just fallen head first off the wagon.
The problem lies in this obsession with the Yankees and the “curse.” It has simply gotten too big. When a documentary about a losing season brings can be a local hit, you know you’ve got problems.
At least I do, because I do still believe and this always turns me into an emotional train wreck. I simply care too much and it starting to take its total. And that is why I sat there the other night wanting them to blow it.
This team doesn’t have the magic of last year and we are all in denial if we think they are going to turn it around.
They’re not.
But the problem is, I can’t let them go, it’s against every fiber of my Red Sox being. It’s like being in a bad relationship, except instead of them cheating on me, they tease me with losses and then come running back to me with a winning streak. I have no backbone at all, choosing to always let them back into bed with me. I’ll never dump them on my own. I need them to just run away from me and never come back. So please, my dear Red Sox maiden, just start losing and never stop because if you can fall out of contention by mid-August, it might be just enough time for me to get up the will-power to take you back next fall.
The pain from last season lingered like the back end of late night burrito after a night of tequila and beer. That is to say, it hurt. Sure, I tried optimism over the winter and, the Patriots winning the Super Bowl sure helped, but as soon as pitchers and catchers reported, I realized I wasn’t emotionally ready for this season to begin.
The baseball season is long, we all know this, especially as Red Sox fans. You would think, being the self-tortured souls that we are, we would know that taking six of seven games from the Yankees before Memorial Day meant jack-squat. But, no, Sox fans were all over this. I warned my friends to take heed, but still they yammered on, in every medium they could; from sports radio to the myriad of web site dedicated to discussing the team.
Which reminds, am I only the one out there that think the likes of a certain Sox player and a certain prominent owner shouldn’t be spouting opinions on these message boards? I mean, the media is one thing, but how can you possibly feel the need to explain yourself to people in an anonymous forum who probably have the Sox chat up in one browser and the latest Pam Anderson video in another? Sox fans are cynical by nature, but the lunacy perpetuated through some of these virtual discussions is manic.
But, I digress. To each his own I suppose. After all, it is the forlorn right of every Sox fan to jump on and off the bandwagon of players and managers several times a season.
I set out to avoid getting sucked into all things Sox as much as possible this year. Choosing to not watch nor attend a single game in its entirety until after July 4th, I figured I would be able to at least shield myself from some of the heartbreak.
It sort of worked.
For a couple of months there, I followed the team via box scores and the newspapers. It gave me just enough info to maintain a working knowledge of the season without driving me too far off the edge. However, what I found when I jumped back on board nearly three weeks ago is that being a Red Sox fan is like being a former addict. I had just fallen head first off the wagon.
The problem lies in this obsession with the Yankees and the “curse.” It has simply gotten too big. When a documentary about a losing season brings can be a local hit, you know you’ve got problems.
At least I do, because I do still believe and this always turns me into an emotional train wreck. I simply care too much and it starting to take its total. And that is why I sat there the other night wanting them to blow it.
This team doesn’t have the magic of last year and we are all in denial if we think they are going to turn it around.
They’re not.
But the problem is, I can’t let them go, it’s against every fiber of my Red Sox being. It’s like being in a bad relationship, except instead of them cheating on me, they tease me with losses and then come running back to me with a winning streak. I have no backbone at all, choosing to always let them back into bed with me. I’ll never dump them on my own. I need them to just run away from me and never come back. So please, my dear Red Sox maiden, just start losing and never stop because if you can fall out of contention by mid-August, it might be just enough time for me to get up the will-power to take you back next fall.
