I've been pretty quiet about this all season, but it's getting down to the wire, so let's talk a little Sox.
Contrary to what is being said about me over on the message boards, I am not giving the 2005 Red Sox a "free pass" for this season. But I don't have near the level of anxiety that I did this time last year. In fact, I'm completely devoid of any baseball stress. And here's why:
I learned. I learned that no matter how far down this team is, they can come back. I learned that as long as there's one strike left, the game or the series or the season isn't over. There is always hope.
Growing up around this city, I didn't always have that feeling. After watching the Sox come so close and lose year after year after year, I believed that no matter how hard you tried, you were going to ultimately lose in the end. Not just in baseball, but in life. It's not like there was a complete absence of hope, but hope existed only in the most desperate "what else are we supposed to do but hope?" kind of way. Of course, I can't completely blame baseball for my "life is cruel" outlook, but I certainly latched on to the Red Sox as a very potent metaphor for what I felt inside.
But last October, everything changed. Life changed. The Red Sox taught me that sometimes in life, you win. It's worth it. Even the Boston Red Sox can be the champions of the world. Anything is possible.
Those of you who know me well have probably seen a lot of changes in my personality over the last year. I'm much calmer, happier, more hopeful. It would be ridiculous to say that it was exclusively the Sox that affected my personality. I've had a lot of joy and excitement this past year, not the least of which is being in this band with three guys I love. But the world champions kicked it all off. It's like this great weight was lifted off my shoulders and I could breathe again. Finally, my lungs were filled with hope.
Now, I don't know what's going to happen in the next week of baseball games. Maybe the Sox will repeat or lose another heartbreaking ALCS to the Yankees or not make the playoffs at all. Of course, I want them to win and would be disappointed if they don't. But I'll tell you one thing: I'm not going back to being that miserable bastard I was at the beginning of October, 2004. That guy is dead. And good riddance to him.
It seems that a lot of Red Sox fans don't really know how to be anything other than miserable. As the season winds down and the race gets closer, I hear you reverting to your pre-championship ways. The only way to enjoy the Sox is that anxiety-fueled, emotionally-draining "do or die" kind of way. But can't you see that things are different now? It doesn't have to be that way anymore. There's always hope. We might win this year, we might not. But really - are you going to be all that heartbroken if they don't win it all again? The very next year?
What are you - Yankee fans?
Contrary to what is being said about me over on the message boards, I am not giving the 2005 Red Sox a "free pass" for this season. But I don't have near the level of anxiety that I did this time last year. In fact, I'm completely devoid of any baseball stress. And here's why:
I learned. I learned that no matter how far down this team is, they can come back. I learned that as long as there's one strike left, the game or the series or the season isn't over. There is always hope.
Growing up around this city, I didn't always have that feeling. After watching the Sox come so close and lose year after year after year, I believed that no matter how hard you tried, you were going to ultimately lose in the end. Not just in baseball, but in life. It's not like there was a complete absence of hope, but hope existed only in the most desperate "what else are we supposed to do but hope?" kind of way. Of course, I can't completely blame baseball for my "life is cruel" outlook, but I certainly latched on to the Red Sox as a very potent metaphor for what I felt inside.
But last October, everything changed. Life changed. The Red Sox taught me that sometimes in life, you win. It's worth it. Even the Boston Red Sox can be the champions of the world. Anything is possible.
Those of you who know me well have probably seen a lot of changes in my personality over the last year. I'm much calmer, happier, more hopeful. It would be ridiculous to say that it was exclusively the Sox that affected my personality. I've had a lot of joy and excitement this past year, not the least of which is being in this band with three guys I love. But the world champions kicked it all off. It's like this great weight was lifted off my shoulders and I could breathe again. Finally, my lungs were filled with hope.
Now, I don't know what's going to happen in the next week of baseball games. Maybe the Sox will repeat or lose another heartbreaking ALCS to the Yankees or not make the playoffs at all. Of course, I want them to win and would be disappointed if they don't. But I'll tell you one thing: I'm not going back to being that miserable bastard I was at the beginning of October, 2004. That guy is dead. And good riddance to him.
It seems that a lot of Red Sox fans don't really know how to be anything other than miserable. As the season winds down and the race gets closer, I hear you reverting to your pre-championship ways. The only way to enjoy the Sox is that anxiety-fueled, emotionally-draining "do or die" kind of way. But can't you see that things are different now? It doesn't have to be that way anymore. There's always hope. We might win this year, we might not. But really - are you going to be all that heartbroken if they don't win it all again? The very next year?
What are you - Yankee fans?
5 Comments:
Last fall I moved to Boston, and so I called up this punk I knew named Joe, who is friends with this fool here Brendo. And we go bowling, as is their weekend wont. And as most of you know, when these dudes hit the lanes, they're not just fucking around - they care about their scores, and
on this day Joe and Brendo are both bowling very well. Striking. Sparing. Doing little dances. Put simply, they were feeling the fever... until the Sox game came on, which was broadcast on a TV hanging above every lane.
The Sox were playing the Yankees, who took the lead in the first inning. Sure enough, as soon as the game comes on, like psychological clockwork, Joe and Brendo proceed to huck two gutter balls each and lose the game. They promptly call it a day, and head directly home where they can more fully envelope themselves in a state of total anxiety.
Cheers to the new Brendo. I bet now he'd get at least 1 or 2 pins down in the same situation.
you said It's like this great weight was lifted off my shoulders and I could breathe again. Finally, my lungs were filled with hope.
Yeah, i remember that feeling. Same exact thing happened to me - it lasted for what? 3 days and then came election night.
Yeah, but baseball actually matters.
Dear Brendan -
Thanks for talking about the Red Sox.
Love - Pedro
ohh bowling, how unfun.
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