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Red Sox Mama's Blog

Sox, life, music, stuff, random,

Updated: 2012-04-15T20:43:40.609-07:00




It occurs to me that the last time I wrote anything here, it was the middle of winter, and boy have things ever changed since then. It has indeed been an interesting and wild ride. Some of it would've made for some rather interesting reality T.V. Alas, the doctor and husband Jim keep nixing my idea of pitching the daily life of a small medical office to the Discovery Channel.Anyhow. For the last few years, on New Year's Eve (one of the most useless excuses I can think of for people to get drunk and stay up late) I tell Cliff something to the effect of, "Okay, let's have a drama-free year this year." And it never fails-the drama only gets worse, more absurd, and more tragic. So...this year has by and large been one of the worst drama years in recent memory.I personally went through a bout of alcoholism for most of the winter and early spring. I was so embarrassed about it that I wouldn't go to the same package store in the same week. This had a massive impact on my job, home life, etc. I blame job stress on the fact that I was drinking at all, but once I came clean about it to Cliff (one of the more painful episodes of our marriage), I quit cold turkey. Yay me! This was....geez, I dunno, March.Things got really good at work. Beth and I were getting along really well (we hadn't been getting on so well on and off for months, this was the source of most of my stress. I almost quit on several occasions, once by dramatically picking up all my stuff and storming out of the office. I came back and was promptly put on probation for the third time. Many other times I just cried to Cliff and my father, who at one point called me a spoiled brat.). Things at work in March and April were great.Then Beth had a lump removed from her breast. Then there was the day that will live in infamy. It was April 12. She was telling me al day that she had some vague pain from the surgery, but then another pain under the breast pain. We went to lunch at Friendly's (I paid, not that it matters). She talked mostly about the pain. We got back to the office, and I remember random moments-she was having trouble catching her breath, her doctor's office wasn't any help, she told me she felt like she needed to go to the ER (this being a woman who wouldn't go to the ER if her left arm was cut off), her getting flushed and rather panicky. I had no idea what was going on. The doctor checked her out at the end of the day, and then sent her to the hospital for a stat cat scan. I remember telling her on the way out of the office to call me later, because we frequently would talk after work. She never called me.The next morning, I already had a sense of dread. Then I pulled the reports from the printer and realized that Beth had been admitted to the hospital with a blood clot in her lung. Her condition kinda deteriorated from there, with her requiring a ventilator and a helicopter ride to Hartford Hospital. Her recovery has been long, and complicated. She was in rehab for a while, but now, four months later, she is back in the hospital in intensive care again. Pray for her.In the meantime, I held down the ship. I think at first that the doctor (let us call her Sue) had her doubts that I could handle the sudden responsiblity. Neither did I. Jim, ever trusty Jim, got us some help in the form of Leanne. We can all admit now that this was a painful stopgap measure. She spent most days playing on the computer and writing her friend Kimmy's name over and over again.Next up was Angelica from the Temp Agency from hell. She was bossy, braggy, brassy, and ignorant. I tolerated it about as well as I could, it sure as hell beat being alone. Then she tried to call in a narcotic to a local pharmacy...and that was the end of that.This began the period I like to refer to as the "Velma Kelly in an Act of Desperation Month" (for those of you unfamiliar with the musical Chicago, I am refering to "But I can't do it alone"). I was alone. Solo. Not easy. Hard. Bad. Exhausting. However, the one positive effect is a seemingly permanent bond between Sue and myself. We are a team onto ours[...]

Girl's Day Out


I am going to write half of this now, and half when I get home. I suggested to Julie (ever-lovin' step-daughter o' mine) last weekend that we go shopping this weekend. Half of me was expecting her to say no, but instead, she jumped on this one full-bore.

So in about 20 minutes, I am headed to Tolland to get Jules. I am psyched. I can't wait. I'm scared I'm going to spend too much money. I'm scared I'm not going to be able to buy what I want. I'm scared that Julie will think I'm lame.

Ah screw it, it's girls day out!

More later

A Happy Tuesday


heh. Not very many of those. Tuesday is somewhat like the idiot red-headed step-sister of Friday. Anyhow, since I am bored and in the middle of (everybody who knows the song, feel free to sing along) TUESDAY NIGHT IS LAUNDRY NIGHT, I figured I'd write a bit before I have to inevitably go pick up my ever-lovin' hubby at el bowling allie.Ahem. Pardon me while I light up a smoke (indoors, an unaccusomed luxury being excused by myself and ever-lovin' toleratin' hubby due to shitty ass New England winter...although it is unseasonably warm tonight, I will not unindulge myself, thank you very much).It dawns on me that my cell phone is likely in the car. Shit. That means I'm going to have to get it at some point.Anyhow.Still haven't lit up that smoke.Doing that now.Okee Dokiee, that's done. Yay!Now onto the main event. Since I let my boss (the omnipresent Dr. Corrado, wonderful woman, great doctor) borrow Lake Placid, I feel it important to get this list into the public. As I am a great fan of the cheesy movie in all shapes and forms, please take this into account as I unleash the (drumroll, please!):Top Twenty All-Time Favorite Movies Of Redsoxmama!!1. Gone With The WindMy first ever favorite movie. What an epic, what a drama, what can I say? I will never go hungry again!!!2. The WarriorsThank you and mad props to Cliff (ever lovin' and toleratin' hubby mentioned prior) for introducing me to this fantasic movie. If not for anything else than the Mime Gang in the intro, and "Warrrriors, come out to plaaaaaaaieeeeeeeay". God I love that movie.3. Valley GirlNicolas Cage. Vulnerable, in love with the girl of his dreams, and it's a wonderful, cheesy love story that is so so so eighties. There is something so dreamlike about this movie, it's like your first love, and it makes you re-live it somehow.4. Jesus Christ SuperstarFrom beginning to end, an outstanding flick and a terrific performance from most cast members. It helps that this is one of my favorite musicals (once again mad props to Cliff) and that it features some of the best ever performances ever of this tale. Best ever Judas, best ever performance of "Gesthemanie". Spectacular scenery abounds, despite a lackluster appearance by Yvonne Elliman and a somewhat Coca-Cola like production of "Could we Start Again, Please". Also, don't miss the very very lip-synched AMEN by Simon during "Simon Zelotes".5. GooniesDon't ask. Goes back to the whole '80's were great thing. Even I don't get it sometimes. I think it has something to do with growing up within the era. Oh well.6. Lake PlacidThe first time I saw it, I didn't get it. Then I did. Total horror spoof. Great stuff. Anything that has Muriel Hemingway saying "You fuckshit!", and Betty White telling a cop that, "If I had a dick, this is where I'd tell you to suck it" is a great movie. It also includes (I happen to believe, somewhat incidently) the required dance scene and other requisite parts of a completely cheesy movie.7. OklahomaI LOVE MUSICALS!!!!! And this one is great, and cheesy. Yes sir, I do love my cheesy musicals.8. Donnie DarkoI still don't get it, but I am pretty sure that after I watch it for the fourth time, I might. I think it's good, and I am fairly sure I like it. A lot. Why, I'm not exactly sure.9. The StandSince it was a made-for-TV type thing, I'm not really sure this counts, but I've watched it enough times (in that gray time while Cliff and I were waiting for the cable to our room to be installed, and there was nothing to watch but the same movies over and over and over again) that I think it should count. It is really an amazing thing to see a movie about the greatest novel ever written. Everyone has there own opinion, I'm sure, but I can't read that book anymore without seeing the actors who played the characters. It was a great adaptation, and repeatedly watchable to boot.10. Dirty DancingNO ONE PUTS BABY IN A CORNER! I rest my case on this one. This movie is so so great, on so many levels, and cheesy to boot.11. Top GunSupposedly, this movie is th[...]

Here We Go Again


It's February folks, and on NESN, it's been a World Series Winter. It was somewhat surreal to watch the 1975 series, I completely missed the 1986 series, and there's something lacking from re-watching the 2004 ALCS. Maybe it's Cliff's bowling teammates yelling "BRILLIANT!!" every time the MFY made a mistake.

It's something about October that is somehow lacking in February. I mean, this is Super Bowl weekend, I should be thinking about my also beloved Patriots, but I love my Sox more. There was a magic in October. I will never forget watching game 3 of the ALCS and thinking that Fenway Park was about to become the scene of a mass suicide. Somebody, quick, call Gil Grissom and the CSI crew! Oh wait, there's no CSI Boston. Yet.


So now it's February, and the Patriots are on the brink of a dynasty. I should be happy, but it seems like it's an eternity until spring training. I'm dreading March Madness this year, and it is SO right around the corner. Living in Connecticut, and being only 15 or so miles away from the UCONN campus, one tends to live and die by the Huskies (men AND women, mind you).

Regardless, it's going to be a different team than last year, oh yes. Perhaps that's why I'm saddened. Seems like I can't have a favorite player for very long. I was just getting over Nomar, now Kapler's gone. Feh. Renteria has potential, as does Bronson Arroyo (who, in my opinion was always a better pitcher than his stats--just because a pitcher doesn't have run support doesn't make him a lousy pitcher--that's all I'm saying).

David Wells is an interesting addition, and there are a few more persons they've added that I know absolutely nothing about. I know in my heart that I will always hold the 2004 Sox on a pedestal, and I will never ever ever forget a single name of anyone who played on that World Series roster! I will never forget Cliff wiping tears of joy from his face while he was bartending when they won the World Series.

Last year was great. I can't wait for this one to start.

On the Brink


I ask not why I write this, because so few are actually reading it (thank you's to Cliff, friends, and assorted family), I ask why not? I am writing for the sake of writing, for keeping my creative juices alive, for the sake of writing something with an authentic and real voice. MINE. There are so few things in life that I can consider to be wholly and unconvertibly mine, things that I own without question or concern. This and the thoughts in my head are about it. I am not talking material goods or wealth, I am speaking of the intangible of MINE.

When I put these words down, and I submit them for you to read, I am allowing you to perceive that which is mine. Consider it a gift that I even bother to share it. It's taken me years to learn how to share my words and my meaning with anyone other than myself.

But I digress.

A few thoughts as we return tonight to face the Evil Empire in New York...I am amazed and suprised, but lets face it...who really thought we were going to lose last night (funniest/saddest moment--Johnny Damon's bunt attempt, where even he was thinking "oh crap")? I'm just wondering.



Cliff say, "Why you take my picture while I eat ice cream? So you can post to blog?" Why yes, yes of course, that was my intention all along...NOT (image)



Bryan and Nate at Dinosaur Crossing (image)



Natey Smile (image)



Danny with bubble (image)

Judy, AKA Red Sox Mama


The one, the only, Red Sox Mama (image)

The Mohegan Sun Post


A slight digression from my normal discussion of the goings on in RSN, this week I have decided to go off on a little riff about Mohegan Sun. Nothing bad of course (I fear that if I wrote anything bad, that I might end up on the BANNED FOR LIFE rolls along with Mr. Ruley)...I like the place far too much to write anything disparaging. Seems like the right time, since we're pretty much a lock for the wild card and such, and I've got about a week until I have to seriously get into playoff mode, which entails the play-by-play dissection of each and every game until the victor is declared (I think football does it so much game and the victor is declared...We won't know who wins the World Series until damn near Halloween). But anyhow. Mohegan Sun is one of the biggest casinos in America, if not the world. It's closest competition is Foxwoods, another monstrosity of a casino that is about 20 minutes away. Both are located in Southeastern Connecticut, also known as "where is that?" and "but what is it near?" The answer to the question is--near a Dunkin Donuts or a 7-11. Both are nearby. Not much else is, unless you count trees and crazy people. But once again, I digress. We live only about a half hour from Mohegan Sun, and that is both a blessing and a curse. It's a blessing because, well, it's close. It's a curse, because it is about the only game in town for about a 50 mile radius. Have you ever heard anything amazing about the nightlife in Northeastern Connecticut, or for that matter, ANYWHERE in this state? Has Wild On ever done an episode in Connecticut? Hmmm. No. That explains why we end up going down maybe once or twice a week to try our hands at a few nickel machines. We used to do quarters, but 1) That can get pricey, and when you start scrimping on your bills because of your gambling...well, then you've got a problem 2) Why bother when they are so BORING compared to the nickels? I could get into telling you all about our favorite machines, but that is also boring. I'll leave it at this--why play a game with only one bonus opportunity when you can play a game with three or four different bonuses? I like to play the machines, but while Cliff finds the spinning reels exciting, I find them hypnotic. Which is why I yawn a lot...they put me to sleep. So I do a lot of people watching, a habit that annoys Cliff to no end. There are some casino people I find automatically annoying. They are (in no particular order) Slappers, Screen Rubbers, Loud People, and Dummies. Slappers are obvious. These are the people that insist on slapping the spin button every single spin. They don't push the button, they slap at it. Slap Slap Slap. Sometimes they like to slap every single lines bet button, then slap the bet button. Slappers are usually male, sometimes mutter or curse under their breath, are occasionally Asian, and smoke like a furnace. Screen rubbers are a unusual breed, but they are gratingly irritating. These are the women (very, very rarely does a male do this) who will push the button and then rub either a finger, whole hand, both hands (depends on what the superstition is, I suppose) over the screen in some sort of bizarre pattern. They don't seem to be aware that their voodoo is useless over a random number generating video slot machine. They are almost always women, alone, middle-aged to elderly, and spooky-looking, kind of in a Stevie Nicks sort of way. Loud people are the people in nickle-nickle land who get excited when they win 10 credits. Hello? IT'S FRIGGIN' 50 CENTS MORON! The shouts, whoops and hollers are generally meaningless. Loud people come in flocks, and mostly from New York. Almost always, they have absolutely NO idea how to play the game, and that leads right into the next sub species. Dummies are the worst, the low[...]

August, September (What a long, strange trip it's been)


Hey there once again faithful reader! It's been an interesting summer. I spent most of it unemployed (a state which is akin to being part of the walking dead), and I finally landed a job in mid-August. So the blog, which I had begun as a hobby to alleviate the boredom of being stuck in job-hunt mode, went ignored completely unintentionally while my beloved Sox went on an 11 game winning streak.

And for that, I apologize.

I have by and large gotten over the shock and heartache of Nomar's trade by realizing that he was a cancer and by shifting my attention to the other hottie on the team, number 19, Gabe Kapler. Now there's one mighty fine lookin' piece of man-meat. Yowza!


So there are three teams left, Tampa, MFY, and Baltimore. Baltimore is our Achille's heel. They could truly be the spoiler this season. I worry about getting pecked to death, but our defense has improved so dramatically that I doubt that it will happen. I don't get it though--most of the time the Orioles suck, EXCEPT when they play the Sox...what kind of space-time paradox is going on with that, and is there any way to correct it?

Football season started, and the Pats are doing well, which is saying a lot when you're talking about a team that is expected to do nothing but win and continue THE LEGACY...Which was nothing but a pipe dream a mere 4 years ago. Heh. When it gets down to it though, who remembers anything about last year's Super Bowl other than an infamous wardrobe malfunction...oh yeah, and the Pats won...

Anyhow, it's now 12 games to go, and the horse race is on. I don't know whether to get excited about playoff possiblities or to prepare for the inevitable heartache. I suppose I could do both, but I think I'm just going to Keep the Faith and roll with it.

Sox Nation out!

More sass, less bitter


It was brought to my attention that my last post was fairly bitter and not as good as the previous posts. Fine. I can be less bitter, but at the cost of being more contemplative. Suffer the consequences. I want to first thank the people over at for adding me to the roster, and letting me be found on yahoo. I am the first and only Red Sox Mama!! I'm suddenly so proud that I want to split in two. Or something like that.

I say in my description that I talk about more than just the Sox, and I figured today was as good a day to do that as any. After all, I am sick to death of rehashing the Nomar thing (it was all about the Benjamins, wasn't it now?), and it appears that we are back to the win a few, lose a few rollercoaster. I am also tired of bashing Francoma, who may now be taking up permanent residence in the pastel pink unicorn heaven that exists squarely between his ears. How else do you explain what happened with Roberts last night?

I am longing for the happier days of last August, when a young Millar was up on the Jumbotron, pumping his fist to the strains of 'Born in the U.S.A'. For a while there, that image because our rally point. Then came "Cowboy Up", which I always considered to be somewhat annoying. Anyway, the point I am trying to get to here is that last year was truly a great year, because the Travelin' Salvation Show of Bruce played at Our Lady of Perpetual Disappointment.

Upon calling the venerable Fenway Park this, or upon identifing Manny as "The Flake" or Millar as "Chucklehead", my wonderfully patient husband always cringes and says something like, "Why can't you just call it by it's name?" Once and for all--I do it partially because I know it bothers you, and because once I've coined something funny, I loathe having to let it go.

For those who either don't like Bruce or don't care, my dissertation is a lost cause. Julie, my step-daughter, calls him the one hit wonder. So there's no point to trying to tell her why I love this man's music. I love his music because it calls to a primal, urban, part of me that I otherwise try to keep restrained. It speaks to me of love and loss, of lost youth, of youth on the run, of cities where dreams are broken, of men who are out for a good time, and people who are looking for salvation. And seeing his show live is the only way to hear his music.

Needless to say, we didn't get to go to the concert at Fenway. But we did see him at Rentschler (sic) Field. And for me, it was a religious experience.

Just like our pilgramage to Our Lady of Perpetual Disappointment (why are there so many Dunkin Donuts per square mile in Boston?), these are things that tie me to my basic humanity. Music, and game.

Bring it on, and get me a drink while you're at it.

And now, the Post-Nomar Era


I thought I had summed my thoughts on Nomar the other night, but I was wrong. I still haven't gotten over it. It still feels wrong, like when I got dumped 3 days before the prom. Now, reading articles on MSN about how welcome he feels in Chicago, how the fans are loving him's like watching your ex-boyfriend date a really ugly broad and know that somehow he finds her more attractive than you.

Chicago is the bastard red-headed step-child of Boston, the absolute antithesis of a sister city. I wouldn't be able to say these things if I hadn't lived there, but I did, and therefore I have reason to bitch.

Anyhow...Let the new era for Red Sox baseball begin. Pray that we have eliminated dead wood. Put this behind us, move on. *sniffle* With that, I am done talking of Nomar forevermore. Amen.

I have to give Cabrera a hand for making a fantastic homerun in his first at bat. Way to go! Whee! Too bad we lost the game. I hate Red Sox road trips, they never turn out well at all. Tonight begins three-in-a-row with Tampa Bay. At this point, nothing is certain. All I know is that I continue to hope against all hope. August is August, and the Wild Card Race is on. May the best team win.


Is it football season yet?

Nomah has left the building




Allow me a moment to gather some thoughts. This trade is probably not as big of a deal as I think it is. Is it? I'm confused. I just don't know what to think. I feel like I just lost a best friend.

I have sometimes been a fan of baseball, at times more, at times less. The first MLB game I ever went to was in Philadelphia, on a band trip. We saw the Phillies play...someone? I dunno, we did the wave and I took a close-up picture of my mother (which was my MO for a while, there's a whole page in one of our photo albums dedicated to my close-up shock pictures of people one Thanksgiving. My mother, as I recall, looks less than pleased in this particular shot. But I digress). My second MLB game was a wedding present from my first husband, when we lived in San Diego. We saw the Padres play the Cardinals, in 1998. Yes, Maguire hit a homer that night. And thusly, baseball fever gripped me for the first time, and held me tight until we were swept by the MFY.

And I thought we had a chance. PEH!

After that, I didn't really have much of a place in my life for sports. My father has never been a huge fan (although he rooted for the Mets in '86...), so sports weren't a huge part of my life. Then came Cliff, and the introduction to Red Sox baseball, a world I had only experienced from the outside, and even then, with trepidation.

It was that California-born, glove-adjusting, toe-tapping shortstop who entertained me, who threw on the run, who made catches I thought weren't possible, who warmed me to the taunts of my Yankee loving friends and co-workers, and made me proud to be a fan. Not to say I didn't warm to the rest of the team over time, because I did. But Nomar was the one who broke the ice with his boyish good looks, his athletic ability, and his predictibility in the box. I was disappointed in him during the ACLS, and I was sad for him over the winter during the now legendary A-Rod talks. I didn't want to see him go...I know, I know, he wasn't happy...If you love something, set it free.

I truly think that the only way he'll ever come back to Fenway is in a different uniform. Makes me sad, makes me hope for his future. This is, after all, the first BIG player I've seen leave since I've really been following.

I'll miss the toe-taps most of all though.

What the Hell was THAT???


Wheeeee. Boy, watching last night's game was about as fun as having ten hours of laser eye surgery with no anasthesia. As my husband bartended at the local somewhat seedy bowling alley bar, I sat by a video machine, foot up on the ice machine, waiting for a miracle. At one point, I looked over at Cliff and said, "Why do I even bother hoping?"

And that my friends, sums up this season in so so many ways. It makes me ill. I loved last years team, and I was glad and relived to see it come back this year largely unscathed. However, with my boy Nomar being Mr. Pouty Pete and Millar acting like a chuckle head, I hate myself for believing.

Let's review. I missed a large portion of the game while getting the little ones off to bed, checking in periodicilly to make sure all was well in the RSN. I saw Pedro getting his K's in the early innings, and I began thinking that this was, perhaps, the triumphant return. Hah. Well, while I wasn't watching (we have something like 6 TVs in our house, but only one in the living room, which my father usually keeps tuned to the Hammer and Nail channel, whose motto is "If They're Building, John's Watching.") the birds pecked away at our anemic defense, and the game was largely lost by that point. 

Which leads me back to Ye Olde Seedie Sports Lounge. Between cigarettes, several glasses of water, and chatter, we watched a lost cause last night. I sat under the green fluorescent cast from the way-too-bright-for-a-hole-in-the-wall bar Rolling Rock sign (no one who frequents this establishment drinks Rolling Rock...Perhaps the college kids, but they don't return until next month) and cursed at Manny for being a flake. Just for a moment here, let me ramble. First, Johnny tries to catch the fly ball by running into the wall face first. Then, Manny catches the throw (?WHATTHEHELL???) that was intended for Bellhorn. As bad as the first game at Seattle was, this was somehow just that much more agonizing. They looked like the Three Stooges out there.

As I can tell, we're all ready down 3 runs in the day part of the day/night doubleheader. I wish I wasn't so sure that this series will be lost. My faith is running on fumes. Hope springs eternal, but man, this is brutal.

I'm out for now, hoping to be optimistic about the Sox tomorrow. Can't summon it up at all today. 

.500 Ball tends to do that to a body.


Back to Our Lady of Perpetual Disappointment


Ah, the not-so-victorious return to Fenway tonight. Where the ghosts of the greats stand shoulder to shoulder with modern-day legends. So much chatter on the airwaves today and yesterday, so much speculation and fantasy trades being bantered about by sportscasters who I honestly think are little more than over grown frat boys who get paid to talk about sports all day.

Yesterday was the day of WaltherQuest '04. Walther is my oldest step-son and he just returned from West Point, where he was guarding the post for a year. He also has...Issues, like wanting to take a Glock to Iraq with him. Last I knew, the military really doesn't like it when soldiers bring their own firearms, but hey, whatever Walt. We drove relentlessly all over the state yesterday, in an attempt to get his car registered. I drove from 9 a.m. until 5 p.m. We ate at Hooter's, and had a wonderful waitress even though I wondered how she could be so nice while being half-dressed.

God I'm only 27 but I'm turning into a prude!

But I digress. While on WaltherQuest, I spent my time trying to ignore Walt's prattling by listening to WEEI. There came a point when I wasn't sure which was worse, listening to the boy or listening to them.

Sheesh. Lighten up on Nomar, and put the onus where it squarely belongs--on Francoma. Seriously, watching Francoma manage is like listening to Clinton's 1996 State of the Union Address, in which I sat dumbfounded wondering if Clinton was talking about the same America I was living in. I wonder if Francoma is watching the same game the rest of us are, or if he's imagining some wonderful place full of rainbows and unicorns and a championship ring...Because outside his head, it's not happening the way he's been managing the team.

Truth is, it looked like our boys tried like hell to lose that game last night. Thankfully, Foulke didn't give it all away, and I could not have stomached another extra inning game. No way. This win one lose one stuff has got to stop. All this talk of trades, sure, yeah, whatever, but make something happen, shake these guys up and get them to play solid, great, inspiring baseball.

Yea Fenway. Go Sox.

I'm out.

Introduction (Random Thoughts)


I can stand here today and tell you many things about myself, but this time of year, the most important thing is being a Red Sox fan. More specifically, I am a Nomar fan, but he is another topic all together. I am also obviously a female fan, and I will admit to having been "converted" only a few short years ago.

Prior to that, and my subsequent marriage to a die-hard Sox fan, I was unabashedly  a Padres fan. I lived in San Deigo during the 98 World Series, and I already hated the Yankees.

Because of my husband, the night our youngest son was born, we were watching the game. Thusly, Daniel became the 3rd generation of men in his family to be literally born a fan.

I mostly gave my fandom lip service until last year (yeah, go ahead, call me a bandwagon jumper, to you I say a hearty whatever and keep reading), when Cliff and I were driving to the casino one night and listening to the Sox play the Yankees on AM radio. The signal kept fading in and out as we passed under power lines, and as the rolling hills and farms gave way to highway, we were steadily losing the game. I was praying, I was crying, and I knew at that moment why it wasn't a joke to my husband to say "games over," when we were up a few runs at the end of the 7th inning (like I had done a few weeks previous when we had been playing some other random team that I hadn't cared about at the time). Because ANYTHING could and would happen.

We went to Fenway last year, and seeing the players in the flesh was truly awesome, and the Wall was as magnificent as the Grand Canyon-It draws the eye up and over and dominates the place like a monolith. I got to touch it. And, since I hadn't become a vegetarian yet, I ate more than my share of Fenway franks. By the way, if you don't like being stuck in post-game traffic, go play some candlepin bowling. Did I mention the Sox were playing the Skankees? Did I mention that it was the time of my life?

This season has been a roller coaster, but I figure that I have a love of writing, and I am a hell of a lot more literate than some of those guys on WEEI and NESN. So if you can tolerate the game from the perspective of a lady in Connecticut who has three boys and an adoring and patient husband, then you're in luck and I'm your gal.

I'm out for now.