I'm an immigrant to Red Sox Nation. I like this team, I really do, but I can't call myself a fan. Frankly, I'm kind of scared to commit.
Personally, I haven't experienced the pain of going years and years, being tantalizingly close to a championship, only to see it slip away. My one experience in rooting hard for this team in 2003, was too painful to endure. So I went back to my beloved Mets.
And now that team too has become overly painful.
In any case, my oldest son has been indoctrinated into the cult that is the Red Sox, and he's taken my wife with him. One night the two of them threw me out of the bedroom, where I'd hoped to hunker down and watch the Mets on ESPN, so they could listen to the teachings of Remy on NESN.
Alex's big first-grade trip was to Fenway Park. These people start young. But they had him at 4, when I told him I was abandoning the Sox to go back to the Mets, he told me he'd be sticking with his beloved Sox.
In any case, my house is now in full Red Sox mode (since I'm not rooting for the Rockies) with everyone following every pitch and every piece of spit that leaves Terry Francona's mouth. Ellen's morning viewing, which was the Today Show, is now NESN so she can see the highlights.
Even Shoshi, who is too young to really know what she's saying, wants to stay up every night and watch the game. Though, she calls it "The Jets Game," which is just fine with me.
Oh, and the boys know all the words to "Sweet Caroline," which apparently ends with the chant "Lets Go Red Sox!"
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