Sox Thoughts

I despise sounding like a cliché, but I'm a fan of the Red Sox. Not just your average "I catch a few games a year" fan, but a huge fan.

There's much more to say about the whole subject, and I'm keeping this post especially short because I have things to do, but this is just too important not to say something immediately.

I love the Red Sox, I'm a fairly intelligent adult, and I know that I never have nor never will play professional sports, but ... I love the Red Sox. I just watched the Opening Day ceremonies at Fenway Park when the 2007 World Champions were given their rings. Add to all that tear-jerking fandom -- Pesky, Orr, Ainge, Bruschi, Russell, Izzo, Hodge, and so on. It was almost too much to take.

All four major sports trophies were, for the first time in history, at the same place together: football, basketball, hockey, and baseball. Well, we haven't won a basketball championship in 20 years, and it's been since 1972 since the B's had the Stanley Cup, but it was really cool to see it.

One of the most emotional events of the day, aside from Papi assisting Pesky to raise the 2007 pennant, was Billy Buckner throwing out the ceremonial first pitch. This guy has been the second-biggest recipient of Sox fans' venom aside from Bucky f*ing Dent. I was actually at the game in a luxury box when he made his first return to Fenway as a hitting coach with the White Sox on June 6, 1996. That wasn't the only memorable event of the night. John Valentin hit for the cycle (the last Sox player to do so). The stuffed shirts in the luxury box had no idea why I was jumping around like a madman with joy.

I digress.

Billy threw the ceremonial pitch to Dewey Evans. Dewey Evans! The tens of thousands of fans at Fenway applauded so long and so hard that Billy broke down and cried. The man cried. Years of scorn were finally lifted. All has been forgiven. All is right with the universe.

I love the Sox, and I fucking love the game of baseball overall. Tradition, camaraderie, history, protagonists, antagonists, individual achievements, teams overcoming adversity and against all odds ... there is simply no other game on the face of the planet which compares.

Congratulations to the soon-to-be heralded 2008 World Series champions.

I apologize for the overdose of saccharine. Today I'm wearing my mom's Ortiz shirt, as was her custom on Opening Day. Cheers, Mom. You would have been right there applauding along with me.