Another First -or- My Initiation into the Red Sox Cult -or- How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Sox

Yet another First. This past Tuesday, my co-worker and (I hope!) friend Ben happened to have an extra ticket to the Sox game that night and graciously invited me along. Since I had yet to experience this Boston phenomenon, I eagerly agreed, and around 5:30pm we started the long, arduous trek from Concord to Fenway (drive from Concord to Alewife, park at Alewife then take the red line to Park, transfer to the green line and ride all the way to Fenway. phew!). Our seats were fairly good, by my standards, thanks to the Alumni foundation at CA; it seemed that we were crashing an alumni event, though not really, since Ben is, in fact, an alum. Anyway, we were sitting on the lower level, a bit far back, but still the closest I had ever been to the field. Unfortunately, we were right behind a supporting column. Oh well, can't win 'em all.

Now, I have been to baseball games. I wouldn't call myself an enormous fan of the Reds, but over the summers growing up I would certainly attend a game or two, or watch them play on tv with my dad. And Cincinnatians are big baseball fans. Big sports fans in general (I mean, come on, why does everyone still root for the Bengals?!), but it was nothing, nothing, compared to the way Bostonians poured into Fenway, the way they all cheered for every aspect of the game, the way everyone rose to their feet in unison during a critical moment of play. I was awed, and slightly overwhelmed. I couldn't believe how many people were there, on a Tuesday night! This wasn't even a weekend game! And the way everyone sang "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" or "Sweet Caroline" - it was astonishing. There was such a sense of unity and community there; everyone was there to root their team to victory, to support them during every moment of the game, to make sure they won. It was as if every single fan knew he had a crucial role to play, that without the fans, the Sox couldn't make it. And I have to believe it.

After the game, which we (since I'm a Sox fan now) won, we went to Boston Beer Works to "wait for the T to settle," and Ben told me about the mania that had ensued when the Sox beat the Yankees during the World Series, before they had won the whole thing. He had just been threatened, then pulled down off a banister. As the two stood in the street observing the chaos around them, Ben queried, "Wouldn't it be great if they won it?" and the cop, who, moments before had been threatening violence, said, "Yeah, yeah it would."

Thus was my entrance into the world of Boston baseball. I can only hope that I become such a dedicated fan.