They find a new way to kill us every year. (The WS years of 2004 and 2007 did not return to kill us until the steroid information came out years later. A different kind of death.) The story is told, in Peter Gammons excellent Beyond The Sixth Game, of an elderly Irishman entering a bar in South Boston where the Sox game is playing on a small TV above the bar in 1974. He squints, scowls. "They killed our fathers and our grandfathers, and now the sons o' bitches are comin' after us!"
There were moments of inches either way from last night's game, the sort of almosts that could torment a fan for years. Forget them. I can tell you six ways the Sox should have won in the 10th inning in 1986, and that knowledge has improved my life not one bit. Do not allow these thoughts space in your mind.
1 comment:
After 2004, I decided I could die happy. The 2007 season was icing on the cake. After that I decided that I would pay little attention to the Sox. I had spent enough time over the years.
Fair weather fan? A fair weather fan does not define someone who rooted for Bob Tillman,Carroll Hardy, or Pumpsie Green. Which reminds me of a line from a friend's high school yearbook blurb: "Pet peeve: Watching those Red Sox lose."
A time to move on to other things fan.
Over the last 45 years, the Sox have done pretty well compared to other teams. I refuse to lose any more sleep over the fate of the Sox.
If they win, fine, but I am not going to agonize over their not winning.
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