Ever since I was a wee little girl, I have been a Red Sox fan.
You know those families that wear matching t-shirts? That was us, decked out in our Red Sox apparel.
Year after year my dad would sit on the couch and watch his team play various opponents. Of course the most upsetting loss would always be those damn Yankees.
I never really thought that my dad’s infatuation with the Boston Red Sox would be passed down to me.
My mom would always dress me so nicely, hoping that I would not stomp on my pretty pink dresses and demand a jersey instead.
I never thought I would either, until I was in 10th grade. After watching my dad, the toughest person I know, cry after his team had won for the first time since 1918, I knew I wanted to be part of the Red Sox nation.
I brushed up on everything I needed to know about the team, from why Harry Frazee sold Babe Ruth, why they call Bucky Dent Bucky “Freaking” Dent, to what the meaning was behind Pesky’s pole.
I think I read almost all of my dad’s books on the Red Sox that he has accumulated throughout his 40 odd years of being a dedicated fan.
I even added to his collection by getting my favorite out of all the books, “Ted Williams: the biography of an American hero.”
By the end of all my reading and watching I was hooked. I was officially “one of God’s most pathetic creatures: a Red Sox fan.”
My infatuation grew to where I would watch every game on TV with my dad, oh yes we have the Red Sox channel.
My gift for graduation was to fly to Boston to see my first Red Sox vs. Yankees game.
I was literally in heaven. I have never experienced anything like it in my entire life. I know I am extremely lame but I even cried a little.
I later took both of my brothers to experience Fenway Park for their first time and, just like me, they were addicted. I am not going to lie, one reason I love going to Fenway Park so much is because of the Fenway Franks.
Of course my dislike for the Yankees has grown increasingly over the years. I think part of it has to do with the curse of the Great Bambino and not winning a championship in almost a decade.
The other part has to do with what I personally think their team is made up of.
I know that the Red Sox play for their fans. Well, now that Manny is gone they do.
The Yankees play for themselves. They strive to be the best because whoever plays the best gets paid the best.
We are not like that. We play for the love of the game.
When we are in talks of trading and moving people up from the Red Sox, we see who has the most heart and is in it for the long haul.
I of course am biased because of how I was raised. The Red Sox have given me something to look forward to every March.
After graduation, I hope to work for the Red Sox, live in Boston, have season tickets and be able to take my dad to every game he usually watches on TV.
The team has given me something to strive for in life.
Whether or not people think I will be able to accomplish all of these things is up to the individual, but I know that if I work hard enough, I will.
I think that everyone wants to be involved with something bigger than themselves.
Being able to watch my favorite players every week during the spring, summer and hopefully into the first part of the fall is something I can do for years to come.