Earlier this summer, I took one of my housemates to a Red Sox game for his birthday. For the purposes of this article we'll call my friend Jeff Mehrmanesh.
It was the first game of a mid summer series with Cleveland, and the Red Sox were one game behind the Yankees in the AL East. My housemate, Jeff and I are die-hard Red Sox fans. In fact, any Red Sox fan is die-hard, because every year begins with promise and talent and ends in a painful downward spiral toward second place. For some people that does not seem like a bad place to end the year. But this is baseball, and more specifically, this is Red Sox baseball, home of "almost" and "just missed" for the last 84 years.
Even though I have not been alive for all of the 84 years of disappointment, every time I turn on the TV or walk into Fenway Park, I am reaffirmed of the pain of people. Anyone who cheers for the Red Sox can feel the weight of 84 years of broken expectations sitting squarely on his or her head.
To fully describe what it is to be a Red Sox fan, I will return to the anecdote of the game my friend and I went to see. As you recall, it was against Cleveland; and as I recall Frank Castillo was the starter. Therein lies the first injustice. Frank Castillo is a poor man's John Burkett. John Burkett is a very, very poor man's Greg Maddux (kinda). So basically Frank Castillo is bad. So bad, in fact, that when Jim Thome (Cleveland's freakishly strong first baseman in residence) came up to bat in the first inning, Jeff Mehrmanesh and I were able to predict where his homerun was going to land.
That is the beginning of what it is to be a Red Sox fan. Expecting something bad is going to happen is just being a pessimist, but knowing that you are going to be hit by a garbage truck in the butt while picking up your dog's poop - that is being a Red Sox fan.
So later in the game, Nomar Garciaparra comes up and hits a shot to centerfield. If you are unfamiliar with Fenway, there is a triangle in center that ends in a 15-foot wall that is 420 feet from home plate - which is damn far. So Nomar lays into this pitch and without much surprise, the centerfielder for the Indians, whose name is Milton Bradley, catches the ball against the wall. That's not too bad, right? How about if the same thing happens three times in that game?
That is the next thing to understand about my people - we have been given the same punishment over and over. A person would be upset about that garbage truck once, but if that dog pooped in the same place two more times and you got hit two more times, you would be pretty heated. But you would never get rid of the dog, cause you love it. So you love the dog, but he really hurts your butt.
Now onto the making of a Red Sox fan. I am just 21 years old. But if you were to see me after leaving Fenway Park, where I have a record of 3-14 over the last 3 seasons, you would not see a young man. You would see somebody filled with spite and accustomed to disappointment. As Jeff Mehrmanesh is fond of saying, "we are grizzled, bitter 40 year-old men."
At this game, there was a young boy, probably aged five, and his father in the two seats next to Jeff. At one point in the early stages of the game, the Red Sox had the bases loaded and no outs. I told Jeff Mehrmanesh that there would be a strike out a pop up and a strikeout, so the Red Sox would score no runs. Jeff Mehrmanesh said there would be a shallow fly ball and a double play. Jeff Mehrmanesh was right. The little boy on the other hand was confused, and said to his father, "Why didn't they score? That's bad baseball." Ah, the bitterness begins. The spite was strong in this one.
In the ninth inning, the Red Sox were down by two with men on first and second with two outs. After what we learned were this boy's first eight innings in a major league ballpark, he turned to his father and said, "They won't score." I saw a five-year old boy turn 35.
The Red Sox do have talent. They may have begun to falter already. But I still think they have a shot. And if they don't win it this year, they will next year. Either way, Yankees suck.
David Needle is a senior majoring in history.
