Tag Archives: Red Sox

Play Ball! How I Became a Red Sox Fan

WHOOSH!!! As the sound of fighter jets flew over my apartment, my heart leapt with joy (and fear—those things are deafeningly loud). I ran to the window to see those four planes head straight toward Fenway Park to do a fly over, marking Opening Day for the Boston Red Sox. I called my dad to tell him I’d seen and felt the planes, and we talked baseball for a few minutes as the ceremony continued. Ted Kennedy, looking weak but happy, threw the opening pitch to Jim Rice, and for once, the political divide between me and my dad didn’t matter. Even my conservative dad couldn’t begrudge an old liberal the chance to toss a ball. Sadly Dad had to get back to work, and so we said our “Go Sox!”s before I settled in with a cup of coffee and my knitting to watch the game.

People are often surprised by my love of baseball. Even here where almost everyone at least claims to be a Red Sox fan, I don’t fit the baseball “type.” I’m not athletic. I hate sports bars. Jocks bore me. I own nary a piece of Red Sox merchandise. My tastes tend toward “culture.” I could care less about any other sport going, but baseball just makes me stupid happy.

It wasn’t always this way. Although I’d been a fan as a kid, growing up with Yaz and the Boomer, my baseball fandom pretty much ended with the 1986 World Series. My dad had woken up my mom to watch what should have been the final out of the Series. “Oh, Mr. Sundry,” Mom said, rubbing her eyes, “these are the Red Sox. They are going to find a way to blow it.”

Sure enough, the ball went trickling through poor injured Bill Bruckner’s legs, and the dreams of a Sox win went with them. All my mom said was “See” to my stunned father and me. As I watched her pad off in her nightgown back to bed, I thought to myself that maybe my mother was right about just this one thing (I was thirteen at the time, so my mom was pretty much wrong about everything). And that was pretty much it for me and baseball for a long time. The next time the Sox made the Playoffs, I busied myself kissing my boyfriend’s neck, trying to distract him from the game. He didn’t appreciate it.

My indifference toward baseball would have likely continued if it hadn’t been for an autumn evening in 2003. I’d just arrived in Massachusetts to start my recently ended job, and I had been staying with some friends of friends in Salem. These guys were hardcore baseball fans, and apparently the Sox were having a great year. If I ever wanted to sit in the living room, I needed to be able to tolerate baseball. Despite myself, I found myself rather charmed by the sloppy looking Sox. They just looked like they were having a good time. That didn’t mean that I was interested in the game. Or wasn’t, that is until that fateful night.

We were at a party in West Gloucester. We’d had beer. Somehow the party wound up becoming two parties, with women dancing to cheesy pop music in the kitchen, and men drinking beer on the porch, listening to Game Three of the series against Oakland on a hand-cranked radio. However much my sister and I love to cut a rug, the music was a bit much, so we decided to join the guys on the porch.

I don’t know if it was the beer, the October air, the romance of the hand crank radio, or the general collective tension surrounding the game, but it took only a few moments before my sister and I were hooked. No one needed to tell us to shut up, because we were listening intently to the broadcast. The game was close, and error filled. It went into eleven, nail-biting innings. At one point, when the tension became almost unbearable, my sister and I looked at each other. “Oh no,” we said together. “We care!”

“I want them to win!” shrieked my sister.

“Me too!” I cried.

The injured Trot Nixon stepped up to the plate. Magically, or so it seemed to me at the time, he hit a game-winning homerun.

“TROT!!!!!!!!” all the guys yelled. Sister and I joined them, “TROT!!!! YAY!!!!!”

From then on, Red Sox fans we were. Now would we have become fans had the Sox had a mediocre year in 2003, I can’t say. But ever since that night, I’ve loved baseball. I might not have truly felt the heartbreak after Game Seven against the Yankees in 2003, or deserved the happiness I felt in 2004 and 2007, but I don’t care. My dad loves it that his daughters have crossed over to the dark side (my mother feels betrayed). It gives us something to talk about, even when other current topics make us quarrel. Baseball’s a game that brings an arch conservative and an ardent liberal together to rejoice in Opening Day.

So, yes. I love baseball. That the Sox won today makes me stupid happy. Play ball!

The Sassy Sundries: My Week in Review

Well, that’s better. Instead of reporting on six months’ worth of news, I only have to recount seven measly days. I think I can handle that.

Wow! Blogville remembered me! Thanks for the response to my resurrection posts. You all make me feel so loved. It’s been great to read about how you’ve all been faring since I dropped off the face of cyberspace. I’d like to do it more, but I’m afraid I still work for the Interweb Nazis. I can’t visit you all as much as I’d like, but I’m trying.

What a great night. As I type, a beautiful full moon fills the sky outside my window. It rose a beautiful pink (I don’t care what Nick Drake says, it’s not going to get me) and now shines a pale yellow. I grilled me up some veggies earlier this evening and hung out on the patio. This weekend’s shaping up to be filled with Shakespeare on the Common, Somerville’s Art Beat, the beach, a Haymarket adventure, and friends. No complaints here.

Enough blabbing already. It’s time for the Sassy Sundries, my weekly tally of things personal, political, and nonsensical. It feels good to be doing this again.

The Obama campaign shows a complete lack of humor by trashing the New Yorker’s brilliant satirical cover. Man, we the readership are on your side. Relax already. Minus One

For the first time since the seventh grade, I have short hair. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I’ve received nothing but compliments. It’s done a lot to erase the memory of that old beauty-school student hack job. Plus One

Job hunting. It sucks. Figures I’m finally ready to move on during the worst economy in forever. If anyone has any advice, please e-mail me. Minus Two

The Red Sox scrape their way into first place before the All-Star break. J.D. Drew gets the MVP for the All Star game, and A-Rod is fending off rumors about Madonna. Heh. Plus Three

Dumbass W opens up lands to oil drilling. Will it solve our energy crisis? Nope. Will it give welfare to greedy corporations? Yep. Minus Five

Hardboiled Wonderland at the End of the World. What took me so long to read this? What was I thinking? Genius. Will write more when I’ve read more. Plus Three

Had my boy juju going last weekend. I have no idea what kind of cosmic alignment took place, but I had several young men making a point of letting me know they appreciated me. Must remember to wear sundress more often. Plus One

Total Plus: 8
Total Minus: 8

TOTAL FOR THE WEEK: Even Steven

The Sassy Sundries: Six Months (?!) of My Life in Review

I say, GODAMN! Six months, more, since I last tended this bloggy thing? Oh Holy Jesus. I can’t believe it.

Well, to tell you the truth, I do believe it. For one thing, Fresh Hell hasn’t let me forget it (see below for more about that fabulous lady). For another, even if you’ve forgotten all about me, I have thought about you denizens of Blogville a lot these last months. Robyn, I hadn’t checked that inbox in quite some time. Thanks for you concern—I am still alive, and all things considered, just fine and dandy. Dive, I miss you.

God, what a lot of pressure. The first post back has to be perfect. Or, at least that’s what I kept telling myself, which is why I haven’t posted for so long. Tonight, though, I say fuck it to that thought, because it’s high time I wrote something. And what better way for me to break back into blogging than with an extended version of the Sassy Sundries, my tally of things personal, political, and nonsensical. Without further ado, here are the Sassy Sundries for the last six months:

Call me Auntie Sassy. My sister had the cutest, coolest little boy on the planet back in March. Babies might not be my thing, but my goodness I love that little guy. He seems to dig me too. The last time he saw me, his face lit up, he smiled, and reached for me. He’s just great. I’ve dressed him up in homemade onesies with sayings like, “When two people love each other very much…” and “I ate, slept, and pooped today!” Styling baby, Nephew is. Plus Twenty

Now that Mom’s officially Grammy, she’s been dropping not-so-subtle hints that it’s high time for me to settle down. Had a bit of a rough visit this past weekend. I called her up tonight, though, and we seem to have sorted things out. Three cheers for therapy! Minus Two

Knudsen scares me. He predicted a McCain presidency way back when, and I hope to Everything that his prediction was only true for the nomination. Come on, Obama! We need you! Minus Two for the prediction; Plus Three for hoping we get us some change.

Speaking of politics, what happened to our Democratic majority in Congress? I just checked the news, and they caved to Dumb W about warrantless wiretapping. Ever heard of the Fourth Amendment, people? And why are we still funding that illegal, pointless war? Minus Ten

Fresh Hell and I have become fast friends, proof that Blogville camaraderie can exist in reality. Love you, Lady. And, Andraste, the three of us are due for some beer! Plus Twenty

Blogging wasn’t the only thing I took a break from. Aside from the Australia Day Smooching Incident, and a wee little Irish fellow asking me, “Do you want to go home and fuck?” (priceless accent—but the line still didn’t work) after a night of heavy drinking with Fresh, I hadn’t had any hint of dating action since the holidays until last week. Alas, the “date” was a setup, and there was no chemistry whatsoever. Still, we made the best of it and us a fine old time, laughing about how we didn’t want to get into one another’s knickers. It might not have been a real date, but the seal’s broken, and I think I might be ready to risk my heart again. Even

So it only happened because Little Blue Peep finally bit the dust, but I’m still happy to say that I’ve reduced my carbon footprint. Now that I’m sans car, things take a little bit more planning to happen, but I’m managing just fine. My Sudoku skills have definitely improved. Plus Three

OK, so the Sox are in second place? There’s still time. And we’re not second to the Yankees. Even

Total Plus: 46
Total Minus: 14

TOTAL FOR THE LAST SIX MONTHS OF MY LIFE: +32

Woooooooooohooooooooooo!!!!!!!

And how! My heart’s still pounding from that close shave in the bottom of the ninth.

Sleep. Finally. Wooooohooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!

Close One

Holy shit, my nails are a ragged mess. I can’t believe we actually won that one. Curt Schilling’s politics be damned, he settled in and did some fine pitching in what might have been his last game wearing a Red Sox uniform. I heart Hideki Okajima and Jonathan Papelbon—way to pick off Holliday, Pap.

Thanks to Jacoby Ellsbury (Eddie Munster’s way cuter cousin) for winning America free tacos by stealing a base. Can I redeem mine at Taco Loco, please?

Oh, and Manuel, my Blog Friend in Belfast, you rock. Way to cheer on the Sox!

Oh Hell Yeah!!!!!

World Series, baby!

Wow, it was looking bad last week. All I can say is that the “triumvirate” (as Fresh Hell—baseball is her life, hee hee— put it) of Boston blog women must have worked some magic for our beloved Sox. Whatever it was, man, what a triad of games.

Scout, I did think of you when I saw the sad faces of the tribe. I’m sorry. They played some great baseball.

OK, off to collapse into bed.

Go Sox!!!!!

Do the Whirlwind

It all started Friday night when Roommate had a date night so I went out to watch the Sox That all went fine until after the game when this guy kept buying me drinks I wound up making out with him a bit As I recall he wasn’t a good kisser I woke up the next morning with that feeling that it’s best that the details are hazy I had a killer headache Roommate laughed her ass off when I recounted the evening’s events in my little girl doesn’t feel good voice Had some water and prayed for death Rallied Made it out to the store to get a wedding gift for friend’s wedding the following day then went to the park so that I wouldn’t waste a beautiful day Bought a very cute dress for wedding as I have learned that looking good takes the sting out of spinsterhood Once shopping was completed I went home and collapsed on the couch for a time before rallying yet again to see Architecture in Helsinki Talk about a killer show Fun fun fun fun dance dance dance whirlwind blast Couldn’t stop smiling Got home Sox in bottom of the tenth Had bad feeling Collapsed into bed Woke up next morning to hear the score was thirteen to six What the fuck Got dressed and went to Friend’s wedding and had a genuinely delightful time I guess that can happen at weddings Caught up with old friends ate some food drank some wine came home Collapsed into bed Woke up and went to work Left work and drove to New Hampshire to see friend from England of original Fluff fame at her mom’s house Had wonderful time visiting with her and other friends That is until I found out the Sox lost yet again Drove home Collapsed into bed Woke up and went to work Long day Exhausted Got home and took off for hair appointment Ah the joy of having someone massage one’s head Exchanged drinking stories with hilarious and talented stylist Bought too many hair products Took train home Arrived just in time for the game to start Roommate and I swore at the television as the Sox lost yet again Collapsed into bed Got up and went to work where a monstrous index awaited my loving ministrations Long long day Got home Popped laundry in washer Fixed dinner Collapsed on couch and nearly fell asleep while watching the Grey’s spin off though I like it when Roommate came home We watched it together Put extra concert ticket up on Craigslist Sat down and typed this thing Will promptly collapse into bed Tomorrow am getting together with Fresh Hell and Andraste for beer and Sox Then off to Stars and then Vermont Sometime around Sunday I can get off this crazy thing for a bit Then it starts again Whilwind indeed