Word: sox
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...being limited to New England weather, jogging along the Charles, and work. But after hours of boredom and months of humiliation. I finally found an activity even more exciting than yelling "LOUU, LOUUU, LOUUU" at Yankee Stadium. Why not become a Fenway junkie and root against the Red Sox...
...with the O's 11 games up on the Yanks--the Red Sox seven--and a black tie dinner at The Ritz in October at stake with my roommates, I paid my quarter and boarded the Red Line bound for Kenmore Sq. As I switched to the trolley at Park St., more and more passengers sporting the Fenway look pushed, shoved and crowded around me. Blue and red helmets, sweatshirts, Red Sox painter's caps, and almost any other type of paraphernalia imaginable cluttered my vision--all emblazoned with that hated "B." As the trolley rattled closer to Kenmore Square...
Once above ground, the crowd became a herd of red-and-blue, thousands of Sox fans closing in on that small stadium. Immediately I was accosted by a vendor peddling Red Sox painter's caps. This was my big chance, the opportunity to finally live out my Yankee allegiance. Would I mutter some slur under my breath, or would I bite the bullet and merely say I was a New Yorker, preferring to wear pinstripes? Of course, I did neither. What would later turn out to be the story of the day had begun. I sheepishly said, "No thanks...
Already my Yankee enthusiasm (or rather my Red Sox apathy) had undergone a disastrous blow. And I hadn't even reached the box office yet. I began wondering if my Yankee loyalty was authentic or if it was merely a circumstance of being raised in upstate New York. Could it be that I never had been exposed to the "thrill" of Fenway? The Green Monster, Fenway Franks, bleacher anarchy, unrestrained fans, and nearly as much tradition as in The Big Apple? For a while I was scared. But when I finally entered the Park and gazed over the infield...
While Bob Watson--Scott's replacement--was belting drives and hits and homers for the Sox, Scott executed the old "George Scott double play" with startling timing and precision against his old teammates yesterday. While this may delight Fenway's dregs, some of whom managed to turn "Boomer" to "Boomer," it is a sad sight to behold, and an uglier one to hear. But it is better for George Scott and better for the Red Sox, who no longer have to rehabilitate old muscles, but must take care that their new ones stay in shape...