Happy Opening Day! Of course, this takes precedence over Easter because I'm in Boston. And it's the Sox and Yankees. Neil Diamond even came out for the occasion - something that has yet to occur at a Sox game. The Red Sox have been one of my true loves throughout my entire life. Sure, they've let me down a season or two, but every year, they're back. It's the stability I like.
Talking with a few close friends tonight, we brought up past Sox memories. Pedro being taped to the dugout post a few years back, the All Star ceremonies in '99, spring training trips, the time I literally ran into Mike Timlin, the streakers, hearing Dirty Water after a win. All that good stuff. And of course, with all these Sox memories, came the 2004 World Series.
I was younger when they won, but I was also in my "Sox Prime". My dad is an insane baseball fan, and this addiction was clearly passed along to my brother and I. It's probably safe to say I have a Fenway Park shaped gene on a chromosome or two. In addition to this, he had hit his midlife crisis early and spent a lot of time hanging out on the couch with a steak and a glass of vodka. Also note that my mom had filed for divorce not too soon before this timeframe. The Red Sox became something he could count on to fill the void of his family when we were across town with our mom on those hot, almost suffocating summer nights. Point is, I fell in love with the game at an early age.
On the night the Sox won the World Series, I was laying in bed with my tv on. I had watched the game from start to finish...like most games. As the final out was made, chills literally went up and down my spine. I'm not even exaggerating. To this day, when I see a replay of the last out, I can't help but get this overwhelming sense of... completion, I guess. I called my dad immediately, but got no answer. I couldn't sleep without hearing his reaction. After about five minutes, I picked up the phone and tried again. Answer. He had called my grandfather before. Who had called my great-grandfather. If Ry hadn't been sleeping, I'm sure he would have picked up the other phone in the house so he could talk to dad too. I will never forget his voice. He was in total shock. He later admitted to me that in the final moments of the game, he began to cry. There was something so big in that moment. And it was clear to Sox fans around the nation. It wasn't just a win. It wasn't just another ring. It was monumental. And that energy can still be found on Yawkey Way or Lansdowne Street today.
With that being said, we won tonight. I broke out my "Lustin' for Dustin" shirt. Hell, Steven Tyler even made his way to the city without hurting himself to sing "God Bless America". Pedro came back to throw out the first pitch. Oh, it's been a good day. And we have plenty of games ahead of us. How 9 bodies on a diamond-shaped field can be so important to someone is beyond me... but I do know that seeing this, especially in person, is one of the craziest natural highs. Love, like I said before.
For now, here's a snapshot from down at Fenway. Not the stereotypical Green Monsta picture, but captures the primary essence of the area, and arguably, the city in general. At least from April to November.
Talking with a few close friends tonight, we brought up past Sox memories. Pedro being taped to the dugout post a few years back, the All Star ceremonies in '99, spring training trips, the time I literally ran into Mike Timlin, the streakers, hearing Dirty Water after a win. All that good stuff. And of course, with all these Sox memories, came the 2004 World Series.
I was younger when they won, but I was also in my "Sox Prime". My dad is an insane baseball fan, and this addiction was clearly passed along to my brother and I. It's probably safe to say I have a Fenway Park shaped gene on a chromosome or two. In addition to this, he had hit his midlife crisis early and spent a lot of time hanging out on the couch with a steak and a glass of vodka. Also note that my mom had filed for divorce not too soon before this timeframe. The Red Sox became something he could count on to fill the void of his family when we were across town with our mom on those hot, almost suffocating summer nights. Point is, I fell in love with the game at an early age.
On the night the Sox won the World Series, I was laying in bed with my tv on. I had watched the game from start to finish...like most games. As the final out was made, chills literally went up and down my spine. I'm not even exaggerating. To this day, when I see a replay of the last out, I can't help but get this overwhelming sense of... completion, I guess. I called my dad immediately, but got no answer. I couldn't sleep without hearing his reaction. After about five minutes, I picked up the phone and tried again. Answer. He had called my grandfather before. Who had called my great-grandfather. If Ry hadn't been sleeping, I'm sure he would have picked up the other phone in the house so he could talk to dad too. I will never forget his voice. He was in total shock. He later admitted to me that in the final moments of the game, he began to cry. There was something so big in that moment. And it was clear to Sox fans around the nation. It wasn't just a win. It wasn't just another ring. It was monumental. And that energy can still be found on Yawkey Way or Lansdowne Street today.
With that being said, we won tonight. I broke out my "Lustin' for Dustin" shirt. Hell, Steven Tyler even made his way to the city without hurting himself to sing "God Bless America". Pedro came back to throw out the first pitch. Oh, it's been a good day. And we have plenty of games ahead of us. How 9 bodies on a diamond-shaped field can be so important to someone is beyond me... but I do know that seeing this, especially in person, is one of the craziest natural highs. Love, like I said before.
For now, here's a snapshot from down at Fenway. Not the stereotypical Green Monsta picture, but captures the primary essence of the area, and arguably, the city in general. At least from April to November.
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