The Nation Believes

Contrary to what one may think upon seeing this post's title, this is actually about the Boston Red Sox, rather than politics. And the nation to which I refer is the highly regarded and widely revered Red Sox Nation. This great nation stretches across political, socioeconomic, ethnic, religious, and political boundaries. There are Catholics for Red Sox, Evangelists for Red Sox, Jews for Red Sox. I myself am an Episcopalian for Red Sox. No matter the situation, nothing brings joy to a Red Sox fan like a David Ortiz home-run. Or the boy who makes his home inside the Green Monster. Sorry Cubs fans, the Green Monster indisputably puts the Wrigley Field ivy to shame. Anyways, this boy has the power to overjoy an entire nation when he changes the out of town scoreboard, revealing to an elated group of Fenway Faithful, that, indeed, the Yankees have lost again. 86 seems to be a particularly bad number for New York. It denotes the number of years after which Yankee Stadium closed, as well as the number of years after which the Evil Empire began to unravel. But this season, we need not concern ourselves with those inferior creatures from the Evil Empire. The "House That Ruth Built" will soon be gone, and the Yanks will also end their twelve year string of post-season appearances. It's about time. Of course, we still hate the Yankees, Babe Ruth is still an unhappy subject, and no, we do not forgive Manny. The potential to face the LA Dodgers in a World Series match-up, and to hear some interesting comments from Manny, is still very real. (The Dodgers did, however, lose last night; take that Manny, Nomah, and D-Lowe.) But, for now, there are some incredibly interesting story lines to develop in the ALCS. Of course, there have been some incredible bench clearing brawls between the Red Sox and the Tampa Bay Devil Rays (no I will not omit the "devil.") And the storied reincarnation, or perhaps, first-ever birth, of the Rays, who are typically the runt of the division, if not the entire league. We eagerly await Jason Bay's first time on the big stage, and so far, not a single disgruntled, unhappy Revere man could call in to WEEI 850 and complain. Besides, "Remdawg" wouldn't take it; Bay has been exceptional. There's Beckett, coming off an injury, and Daisuke struggling with consistency. There are the Sportscenter analysts doubting the team's capabilities with out veteran Curt Schilling. (Schill, maybe you should have spent less time taping advertisements for John McCain and more time in physical therapy.)  To say the least, we of Red Sox Nation have much to be excited about when the competition comes to Beantown for Game 3. Sweet Caroline is already on cue, the sausage guys are setting up shop down on Yawkee way, and the Cask and Flagon is raging. Hopefully, we'll go in with some wins, but if not, part of my Red Sox Nation experience is dealing with pain. As is my father's experience, and my mother's, and my Aunt Elizabeth's, and my Uncle Steve's, and Uncle Tim's. And Nana's and Grandad's. 

     The once great dynasty of 1912, 1915, 1916, and 1918, was smothered by the curse of the killer B's. Babe. To fund a New York City musical? No, NO, Nanette! And Bucky. 1978 Pennant Race. (And critics says the Cubs can't win one!) Buckner. 1986. You ALL know this story, but what you might not know is Calvin Shiraldi began to self-destruct. Poor Bill and his bad knees are the scapegoats. And Boone. Aaron Boone. 2003 ALCS. Game 7. But we prevailed! Fever Pitch will tell you that, "God's most pathetic creature," is, in fact, ".... a Red Sox fan." I prefer to think of Red Sox Nation as a land of exceptionalism. Then again, maybe Mayor Rudolph Giuliani will tell you that's something reserved for America. But he's a Yankees fan, so who's listening?