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Top To Bottom Red Sox |
I've tried to put my fanatic nature behind me because like a junkie who sucked cock for quarters to buy crumbs of crack I've gone to the depths of fanaticism that is beyond healthy. I've been in recovery. Years ago I took a bus and $100 to Fenway park, skipping school, carrying a lawn chair and a Hawaiian shirt. I slept outside Fenway Park near the Players Parking lot for 4 days and nights for the chance to buy two tickets to the Postseason in 1986. I played whiffle ball, ate scraps, it rained of course very hard for two days and I used a carbboard box for shelter that became wet and crumbled. I remained shivering until they opened the box office. It never crossed my mind to leave because I was a fan to the core, I made my bedroom a shrine to The Boston Red Sox. I had Red Sox logos on my socks and box shorts. I think I've covered this subject in an 800 page novel. Alas, there's an old Poker saying, "You remember your bad beats much longer than you remember your big wins." and it applies to many aspects of life. The small victories immediately fade but the most minor trespasses are clung to like life preservers in a sea of regret for years...and we manifest our own trappings. I did not obsess about the Red Sox loss in 1986 until much later when I needed a device to dramatize my downfall. The defeats are more deeply felt than the losses.
So, I think I have a case when I say I can jump on and off the bandwagon as I see fit. Consider me a Sports veteran who might not have a gun in the fight, but who knows the score. I've earned my medals and The Sox made it easy for me to cheer for them this year. They earned the championship.