I am determined that no matter where I live in this country, there is no fever like Red Sox fever. In Atlanta, as much as I liked the Braves (Greg Olson, Otis Nixon, and David Justice in particular) the fan presence ebbed and flowed. In the 80's the seats at Turner Field were practically free; video of the games showed entire sections were empty. As the Braves improved in the early 90's interest and tickets picked up, but come on now, these are fair weather fans. When I moved to Boston I quickly witnessed the deep sense of passion, loyalty and pain that accompanies every baseball season. And it seems to run in families, passed down like a treasured heirloom. I couldn't help but be attracted to it and wonder what makes Boston so different.
Tonight I discovered the Red Sox had won the AL East championship but I wished I had heard the buildup, on radio and t.v., at work, from my friends, at rehearsal. It's just not the same reading about the wins or even looking at pictures of them celebrating it. (Why on earth is Papelbon wearing what look to be bike shorts after the win?? Can anyone help me out here?)
I miss being in it, enveloped in it. One thing that unifies a city.
Really, it's brilliant.
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