Anyone who knows me knows I am a die-hard Red Sox fan. No I never lived in Boston, never went to school there, never was molested by a Yankee, or had any family who hailed from there. Nope, I just love the Red Sox.
To be honest, when I was younger, I actually liked two teams: The Yankees and the Phillies. Basically, I liked who my parents liked. Mom was from Long Island and dad was from Philly. Thus my baseball devotion was split. To be honest, it was easy to like these teams. The Yankees won the series in '77 & 78' and the Phillies won in '80. My youth was quite enjoyable from a baseball standpoint. But there was only one problem. My favorite players were either Phillies or Red Sox. My favorite Yankee was probably Willie Randolph or Ron Guidry (who I still believe is the best player in baseball history, not in the Hall of Fame), but honestly, my favorite American League player was Carl Yastrzemski. I also loved Jim Rice and Fred Lynn. Even though I liked the Yankees, I knew Carlton Fisk was a much better player than Thurman Munson. In 1981, I started to hate the Yankees. I stuck with the Phillies and Mike Schmidt and Steve Carlton were my two favorite players. In 1983, The Phillies lost to the Baltimore Orioles. I found myself in a weird dilemma. I wasn't that upset. I was almost numb. I needed a team and I needed one fast. The real world series was over, but my mind was stuck on a University of Texas pitcher named Roger Clemens. Wherever he went would be my team forever.
In May of 1984, Roger Clemens came on the scene in a Boston uniform. This was an easy team to like for me. They had Dwight Evans, an outfielder with a cannon for an arm, power hitting Tony Armas, and they still had Jim Rice. An infield that had a young hitting machine named Wade Boggs. A hobbled veteran who would end up being part of the most infamous plays in World Series history, Bill Buckner. A future announcer Jerry Remy. A tough as nail catcher named Rich Gedman. They also had an eclectic group of pitchers, like Oil Can Boyd, Bruce Hurst, Al Nipper, Bobby Ojeda, and of course, Hall of Famer Dennis Eckersley.
So the late 90's came and I was abused about as badly as anyone could be abused for their team loyalty. People brought up Bucky "F'in" Dent, Bill Buckner & the Mets, the Curse of the Bambino, and of course Jeter and his rings. In 2003, I sat at Piper's Kilt with a Boston Red Sox Troll doll. It looked like we had our revenge and then Aaron Boone hit a home run against Tim Wakefield that crushed my hopes. In that moment, the troll was seized and it was lit on fire, right there in the bar. The next day, I went in and there it hung, now in a noose all burned to bits. It was sad sight, but you know what they say about karma? The Yankees went on to lose the Series against a Florida Marlins team that featured a third baseman named Mike Lowell and a pitcher named Josh Beckett. The following year, things were different.
The Yankees were up three games to zero and my life was in shambles. The abuse had reached epic proportions. The Yankees were up 4-3 in the ninth when Mariano Rivera gave up a walk and the Dave Roberts stole second. He ended up scoring and Big Papi hit a walk off home run in the 12th inning. Alive, but still looking bleak, the Sox fell behind again, only to have former reliever Tom Gordon let runners on and once again Mo Rivera gave up a long fly that allowed the tying run to score. Five innings later, Big Papi did it again with a single in the 14th. Down 3-2 and going back to NY. Then the call came.
I had a ticket for game six. The place was insane. But this wasn't your father's Yankee stadium. 54,000 screaming fans, but this was weird. About 20,000 of them were in Boston hats and shirts. This would never happen in Fenway. A Sox fan selling aplayoff ticket to a guy in a Yankee jersey...blasphamous. A hobbled Curt Schilling took the mound. In what would become known as the Bloody Sock game, the injured veteran pitched a masterpiece. The Sox jumped out to an early lead and never looked back. At one point in the game Alex Rodriguez knocked the ball from pitcher Bronson Arroyo's glove and it appeared to have broken open the game. The umpires later called it interference and the Sox hatred for A-rod grew even more. We were going to game seven. I would be in the same seat as last year, front and center in Piper's Kilt and either would gloat or have my heart ripped open again
A bar filled with Yankee fans. The burned troll hanging from the wall. Within minutes Big Papi had done it again. The Sox led 2-0. Johnny Damon would hit a grand slam in the second and hours later it was over. The Red Sox celebrated in the Bronx while some idiot Yankee employee blasted New York, New York over the PA. The Sox would go on to sweep the World Series from the St. Louis Cardinals. The bar scene was dead. Yankee fans burrowed into their holes like Punxsatawny Phil waiting for February 2nd.
In 2007, the Sox acquired Josh Beckett and Mike Lowell from the Marlins, and while they did give up a lot in acquiring these guys, the move paid off. These players, plus Kevin Youkilis and Daisuke Matsuzaka ended up winning the World Series for the second time in four years.
So now it is 2009. A different year, but the same rivalry. As strong as ever. A rivalry that other sports fans just don't understand. yes it is late April and the season is only 10% over, but these games matter. These games matter more than any Ranger Playoff game, more than any NBA game, more than the Masters, the NFL draft, more than any LOST episode. These games matter because these games define Sox and Yankee fans. These games matter because what happens in April usually says a lot about what happens in the later months. Sure things will change, maybe even rosters will change from now until September, but it won't matter. Friday and Saturday I was screaming at the top of my lungs. Tonight I will be doing the same. I'll be doing it on Monday and Tuesday May 4th and 5th. Then again in early June and all seven games in August. When they play three in NY in late September, I can assure you I will be watching. I can only hope we do it again in October. Nothing in sports is better than the Red Sox playing the Yankees in the playoffs. It's like the NCAA tournament boiled down into one game. It's like the SuperBowl times ten. There is nothing that comes close to reaching this excitement.
So how does a Boston fan deal with the abuse and the ridicule of the New York fans. How do we compete with 26 rings? We don't. We just know that in the last five years we have two and they have none. We know that the last time they were in the World Series they lost and the last two times we were there we won. We know that we don't need to spend $200 million dollars to put a quality product on the field. We don't have to try and ruin a sport by overpaying for every free agent on the market. We can pay guys what they are worth and let the Yankees overpay for guys who don't pan out (see Carl Pavano, Hideki Irabu, Kei Igawa, etc etc etc.). We also don't have to get a new stadium and spend taxpayer money to do so in a community that so desperately needs the money for other resources.
You got your $200 million dollar payroll and you fancy shmancy new stadium and we got chowder heads, a wicked nice park, and the Sawks. Hey Yankees, you like apples, well we've won two since you won your last. How do you like them apples?
To be honest, when I was younger, I actually liked two teams: The Yankees and the Phillies. Basically, I liked who my parents liked. Mom was from Long Island and dad was from Philly. Thus my baseball devotion was split. To be honest, it was easy to like these teams. The Yankees won the series in '77 & 78' and the Phillies won in '80. My youth was quite enjoyable from a baseball standpoint. But there was only one problem. My favorite players were either Phillies or Red Sox. My favorite Yankee was probably Willie Randolph or Ron Guidry (who I still believe is the best player in baseball history, not in the Hall of Fame), but honestly, my favorite American League player was Carl Yastrzemski. I also loved Jim Rice and Fred Lynn. Even though I liked the Yankees, I knew Carlton Fisk was a much better player than Thurman Munson. In 1981, I started to hate the Yankees. I stuck with the Phillies and Mike Schmidt and Steve Carlton were my two favorite players. In 1983, The Phillies lost to the Baltimore Orioles. I found myself in a weird dilemma. I wasn't that upset. I was almost numb. I needed a team and I needed one fast. The real world series was over, but my mind was stuck on a University of Texas pitcher named Roger Clemens. Wherever he went would be my team forever.
In May of 1984, Roger Clemens came on the scene in a Boston uniform. This was an easy team to like for me. They had Dwight Evans, an outfielder with a cannon for an arm, power hitting Tony Armas, and they still had Jim Rice. An infield that had a young hitting machine named Wade Boggs. A hobbled veteran who would end up being part of the most infamous plays in World Series history, Bill Buckner. A future announcer Jerry Remy. A tough as nail catcher named Rich Gedman. They also had an eclectic group of pitchers, like Oil Can Boyd, Bruce Hurst, Al Nipper, Bobby Ojeda, and of course, Hall of Famer Dennis Eckersley.
So the late 90's came and I was abused about as badly as anyone could be abused for their team loyalty. People brought up Bucky "F'in" Dent, Bill Buckner & the Mets, the Curse of the Bambino, and of course Jeter and his rings. In 2003, I sat at Piper's Kilt with a Boston Red Sox Troll doll. It looked like we had our revenge and then Aaron Boone hit a home run against Tim Wakefield that crushed my hopes. In that moment, the troll was seized and it was lit on fire, right there in the bar. The next day, I went in and there it hung, now in a noose all burned to bits. It was sad sight, but you know what they say about karma? The Yankees went on to lose the Series against a Florida Marlins team that featured a third baseman named Mike Lowell and a pitcher named Josh Beckett. The following year, things were different.
The Yankees were up three games to zero and my life was in shambles. The abuse had reached epic proportions. The Yankees were up 4-3 in the ninth when Mariano Rivera gave up a walk and the Dave Roberts stole second. He ended up scoring and Big Papi hit a walk off home run in the 12th inning. Alive, but still looking bleak, the Sox fell behind again, only to have former reliever Tom Gordon let runners on and once again Mo Rivera gave up a long fly that allowed the tying run to score. Five innings later, Big Papi did it again with a single in the 14th. Down 3-2 and going back to NY. Then the call came.
I had a ticket for game six. The place was insane. But this wasn't your father's Yankee stadium. 54,000 screaming fans, but this was weird. About 20,000 of them were in Boston hats and shirts. This would never happen in Fenway. A Sox fan selling aplayoff ticket to a guy in a Yankee jersey...blasphamous. A hobbled Curt Schilling took the mound. In what would become known as the Bloody Sock game, the injured veteran pitched a masterpiece. The Sox jumped out to an early lead and never looked back. At one point in the game Alex Rodriguez knocked the ball from pitcher Bronson Arroyo's glove and it appeared to have broken open the game. The umpires later called it interference and the Sox hatred for A-rod grew even more. We were going to game seven. I would be in the same seat as last year, front and center in Piper's Kilt and either would gloat or have my heart ripped open again
A bar filled with Yankee fans. The burned troll hanging from the wall. Within minutes Big Papi had done it again. The Sox led 2-0. Johnny Damon would hit a grand slam in the second and hours later it was over. The Red Sox celebrated in the Bronx while some idiot Yankee employee blasted New York, New York over the PA. The Sox would go on to sweep the World Series from the St. Louis Cardinals. The bar scene was dead. Yankee fans burrowed into their holes like Punxsatawny Phil waiting for February 2nd.
In 2007, the Sox acquired Josh Beckett and Mike Lowell from the Marlins, and while they did give up a lot in acquiring these guys, the move paid off. These players, plus Kevin Youkilis and Daisuke Matsuzaka ended up winning the World Series for the second time in four years.
So now it is 2009. A different year, but the same rivalry. As strong as ever. A rivalry that other sports fans just don't understand. yes it is late April and the season is only 10% over, but these games matter. These games matter more than any Ranger Playoff game, more than any NBA game, more than the Masters, the NFL draft, more than any LOST episode. These games matter because these games define Sox and Yankee fans. These games matter because what happens in April usually says a lot about what happens in the later months. Sure things will change, maybe even rosters will change from now until September, but it won't matter. Friday and Saturday I was screaming at the top of my lungs. Tonight I will be doing the same. I'll be doing it on Monday and Tuesday May 4th and 5th. Then again in early June and all seven games in August. When they play three in NY in late September, I can assure you I will be watching. I can only hope we do it again in October. Nothing in sports is better than the Red Sox playing the Yankees in the playoffs. It's like the NCAA tournament boiled down into one game. It's like the SuperBowl times ten. There is nothing that comes close to reaching this excitement.
So how does a Boston fan deal with the abuse and the ridicule of the New York fans. How do we compete with 26 rings? We don't. We just know that in the last five years we have two and they have none. We know that the last time they were in the World Series they lost and the last two times we were there we won. We know that we don't need to spend $200 million dollars to put a quality product on the field. We don't have to try and ruin a sport by overpaying for every free agent on the market. We can pay guys what they are worth and let the Yankees overpay for guys who don't pan out (see Carl Pavano, Hideki Irabu, Kei Igawa, etc etc etc.). We also don't have to get a new stadium and spend taxpayer money to do so in a community that so desperately needs the money for other resources.
You got your $200 million dollar payroll and you fancy shmancy new stadium and we got chowder heads, a wicked nice park, and the Sawks. Hey Yankees, you like apples, well we've won two since you won your last. How do you like them apples?
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