Red Sox Reflections

My father dug this out from his email archive. It was something he sent to a friend the day after the Sox won the Series.

Buenos Dias

I hope your apartment stuff is going well. As I take a break from my first class this morning, I'm still pinching myself about what happened with the olde towne team this past week. I'd like to share some of my experiences with you.

Saturday, October 16th, as we're leaving the 19 to 8 debacle with the Yankees, Spencer says, "I hate the Red Sox. I hate baseball. I'm sorry you ever taught me to love them."

Dmitri the pizza guy was so excited last Wednesday night, he gave my meal for free. Top of the first, Sox go ahead. Middle of the third, Edwin calls, "Whaoaoao, youfuckhuhwawawa!"
"Hey Edwin, where are you?
"Hey brother, Amascarawcelebrateshithafucknyou!"
"Alright man, be careful, OK?"
"Whassamatta, How come you're not fucknawawawa, huh?"
"Call me back later, Edwin."
Click
Bottom of the sixth, Spencer calls, "Hey, you OK?"
"Everything's cool, what are you doing?"
"I'm at Al's place with a bunch of people. Dad, do you believe this is really happening?
"Not really; I think that's my problem."
"Call you back later."
"Cool. Bye."
Seventh inning stretch, during "God Bless America:"
Sister-in-law Denise calls, "Joe, I admire how you've done this over the years, every day, every night with this team. These past three weeks have been too much for me."
"It's a labor of love Denise."
"Why aren't you with Spence?"
"He invited me to be with him and his pals, but I think I have to do this alone."
"Are you going to be alright?"
"Sure. The pizza is already sliced. No knives necessary."
"Ha ha. bye."
"Bye."
Top of the eighth: Edwin: "Fahooshawooh man! Come on, bawashooma..."
"I have another call, Edwin."
"JOE! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOIN'?'
"Talking to someone I don't know."
"IT'S EDDY!'
It was Crazy Eddy. When I was a teenager, Eddy lived across the street. He had a great way of dealing with stress. When he became overwhelmed with everything, like a crazy person, he would run up and down the street screaming, "FUCK YOU, FUCK ME, FUCK EVERYBODY!"
"Hey Eddy, thanks for calling. Fuck you."
"FUCK ME? FUCK YOU! FUCK EVERYBODY!"
click.
Middle of the ninth. Edwin: "Are you ready to scrawhoshowasalooga?"
"I promise, when it's over, I will."
click.
As soon as the game was over, I was stunned, as a matter of fact, I still am. I watched all of the post game hoopla until 3:00am. Edwin called twice more, each time more indecipherable than the previous time. Denise called one more time, just to check on my welfare.
2:30am- Spencer:"Dad, I'm on the corner of Boylston and Mass. Ave. I want to share with you just how great this is."
"Thanks, Spence. I really appreciate that."
"Dad?"
"Yeah, Spence?"
"I love you."

Ahhh...what a touching ending. Needless to say watching the Red Sox finally win a World Series was an experience abound with joy and anticipation (I even set up a video camera in the room in which we were watching the game and recorded us watching the ninth inning, just to capture the moment forever...call me geeky, whatever). Shortly after the game I called on Pop, and when he didn't answer I feared the worst: death by elation. Luckily, he called back a few minutes later, and we had a moment.

I also had lots of friends calling me that night, and it was great to hear from so many thoroughly jubilant people. The city was electric, and it was a no-brainer that if there was ever a night to hit the city streets and celebrate, it was that night in Boston. Horns a-honkin, hi-fives a-slappin, and a moutain of smiles were had that night, and I just had to call the old man, sleeping or not, to at least sort of be there with me.

Baseball, to me, is more than just something my father and I both enjoy; it's the one thing I affiliate most with him and my relationship with him. As happy as I was that night, I was more excited to think of what he was feeling, and suddenly I found myself thinking not of the victory at all, but rather about how lucky I was to have this guy as a parent, and a friend.


So, all the heartfelt stuff aside, here we are at mid-March, in the midst of spring training, and I still haven't completely accepted the outcome of the biggest postseason in Red Sox history. I mean, I know they won, and I've watched the highlight DVDs several times each since then, but in the back of my head it's so surreal it's as if it never happened.

It did, though...

The Red Sox finally won the World Series.