Damn Yankees
I wanted it like a child wants it. Not for personal advancement, or thrill-seeking, or even for some philanthropic purpose. I wanted the Boston Red Sox to win the World Series just because I had wanted it since I was a kid.
That sort of child-like emotion can be one of the true joys of life. Like love, fandom releases the pressures and sometimes-false impositions of maturity. And for most of October, I have allowed my Inner Red Sox Fan to come out and play.
So the emotional reaction to their loss is also like that of a child. IT'S NOT FAIR! The Yankees have all those trophies over there, and we don't have any. We never get any! Are we cursed? Have we sinned? Does somebody not love us?
Of course it is only a game, and I remember the day after the 1986 World Series: I got up and went to work, just like a normal day. In fact it was a normal day, and I've had 17 years of normal days since. Would I have really remembered, this coming February, who had won a series of baseball games several months previously?
But of course that's not the point. (Nor is the point how many batters you leave Pedro Martinez in to face.) Kids' emotions don't last, either. But when they have them, they have them fully. And the point of being a Red Sox fan is -- apparently, I'm forced to admit -- to be sad.
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That sort of child-like emotion can be one of the true joys of life. Like love, fandom releases the pressures and sometimes-false impositions of maturity. And for most of October, I have allowed my Inner Red Sox Fan to come out and play.
So the emotional reaction to their loss is also like that of a child. IT'S NOT FAIR! The Yankees have all those trophies over there, and we don't have any. We never get any! Are we cursed? Have we sinned? Does somebody not love us?
Of course it is only a game, and I remember the day after the 1986 World Series: I got up and went to work, just like a normal day. In fact it was a normal day, and I've had 17 years of normal days since. Would I have really remembered, this coming February, who had won a series of baseball games several months previously?
But of course that's not the point. (Nor is the point how many batters you leave Pedro Martinez in to face.) Kids' emotions don't last, either. But when they have them, they have them fully. And the point of being a Red Sox fan is -- apparently, I'm forced to admit -- to be sad.
To receive these posts via email, write to johnclaytonoutreach-subscribe@yahoogroups.com. (You need not put any text in the message.)
