My Peeps

I found them: My People.

Fellow fans of the Boston Red Sox living here in New York City. Ahhhhh… sanity at last.
I met up last night with about 45 fellow fans at a bar in Midtown to watch the Sox spank the Royals.

The nice thing about walking into this kind of environment, one where you know not one soul before arriving, is that you immediately have something to talk about: baseball. That’s a nice icebreaker to have at your finger tips.

The funny thing was that there were a bunch of guys there looking to meet available girls– but all the girls were more interested in watching baseball than getting their groove on. In fact, the ladies who were present were super down to earth, normal, nice ladies. Maybe I’ll actually make a new friend!

So Good! So Good!

The Boston Globe said it right (to the tune of one of the Sox’s theme songs Sweet Caroline):

I didn’t let myself believe it was actually a possibility to take it all the way until the last pitch was thrown last night. Sure, I hoped. Sure, I had faith. But I didn’t let my mind conceive of the eventual winning moment. I thought it would jinx us by doing so.

I know some people think it’s all a stupid joke, this baseball madness. But I, for one, dig watching a group of people (in this case, men) pull together and perform amazing feats of athleticism, endurance, and skill. I love baseball and think I always did, although I admit during the times when I lived abroad I didn’t give it much thought. Baseball is the best Reality Show happening on TV. Drugs, injuries, fights, breakups and reconcilliations, winners and losers… baseball is so much more than a bunch of guys standing around a grassy field waiting for an occasional burst of action. Plus, we must consider the baseball food of choice: hotdogs. Who can deny the pleasure of a loaded Fenway Frank? No other hotdog tastes as yummy.

Who do you love more? The self-proclaimed Idiots of the 2004 championship or this, as described by Jason Veritek last night, Band of Brothers? There are shining moments of each, for certain. This team does seem more polished, more skillful, and certainly wears more expectation on their shoulders. I adore Mike “Mr. Double” Lowell and hope that Theo and the management keep him on the team and, for the love of all that is good in this world, DO NOT take the ripe apple recently fallen from the Yankee Tree, Alex Rodriquez. A-Rod would mess up a very well developed chemical balance that this team has achieved. I am so pleased they named Lowell the series MVP. Unexpected, for sure, but well deserved and timely, as mid-game A-Rod’s defection from the Empire was announced on National TV in the middle of the freaking World Series. Coincidence? I think A-ROD wanted all in Red Sox Nation to know he is “available”.

I also loved that late last night, after the closing credits and the parting shots of champagne drenched Sox players, the first commercial of the break featured Derek Jeter hawking his perfume called “Driven”. It just struck me as funny.

This year’s celebration for me is much different than 2004’s, that’s for sure. In ’04 I lived in the heart of the action, Boston’s Back Bay. After the final out, I ran outside, camera in hand, and was immediately sucked into the lifeforce of Victory. Sure, most the revelers were BC and BU students who probably never watched a Sox game before their freshman year, but who cares? The energy in the streets was exciting.

This year, now living in New York, in my Long Island outpost, my sleeping sweetheart (who calls himself a Yankees fan) snored quietly as we clinched the title. I sat in my PJs and sent and received excited text messages from friends and family who also count themselves as members of Red Sox Nation. For the first time since moving to NY, I really really wished I was there, back in my Boston neighborhood. Even just for that moment, to experience the win with other fans, as excited as I was.

How many days until Spring Training?

How Sweet it Is!

It has been a long season for this Red Sox fan living in the middle of the EVIL EMPIRE. I have been teased, taunted and ribbed all season long by the Yankees fans that surround me at home and in the office.
Where is the broom? Said my boss after the Yankees swept us last month.
It’s getting chilly in Boston, just 1 1/2 degrees said another co-worker when the Sox lead was perilously slim.
I bet you don’t even know the Sox lineup said a co-worker at that other job I had earlier this year (to which I responded with grace and aplomb the entire batting order).
Damir has been quiet in his taunts (and occasionally even applauds the Sox), however he insists on displaying the Yankee Logo magnet on the back of my truck. This is my fault, naturally, as I was trying to be diplomatic when I bought a Boston magnet for myself and got him the Yankees magnet as a gesture of good will. DAMN MY GOOD WILL, I say. The unspoken rule we have worked out is that whomever is driving gets to display their team, though when I ride shotgun, I display the Boston magnet under my window so everyone knows, I AM NOT A YANKEES FAN.
And now, the Yankees have been knocked out of the post-season by the surprisingly strong Cleveland Indians. The Yanks played like a marginal minor-league team unable to swing the bat or make necessary defensive plays. So timing seems right for me to respond to all the taunting I endured for the last 5 or so months. But no. I will not. Sure, there are many things I could say such as:
NANANANANANAAAAA! You looooossst!
or
What’s the temperature now, huh? Huh? Huh?
or
Who needs a broom when I have a shovel??
or
See ya next season, SUCKERS!
But no, I will not say any of those things. Nope, I will not utter a single word in retort. I am a citizen of the Red Sox Nation and I will not demean myself to such lowly tactics.

Love Me, Ortiz Me

This weekend Damir and I went South to check out the Red Sox play the Orioles and hang out with my parents for a bit. Traffic was insane both coming and going so it feels more like we spent the weekend on the New Jersey Turnpike rather than in Maryland with the folks.

Lucky for us though, Sunday was a beautiful day to catch a baseball game. Warm and sunny, and after the first hour or so of the game the sun went behind the awning of the stadium so we watched the game in the comfort of shade. Camden Yards is a beautiful baseball stadium which doesn’t appear to have a bad seat in the house. The only bummer there is that they don’t have enough vendors coming through the seats with drinks and food– just expensive light beer. Where are my Fenway Franks??

The game itself was a true heartbreaker. The Sox lost the lead they carried most of the game in the 8th inning, and then lost the game in the 10th on a walk-off home run by Kevin Millar (who I still love since his Red Sox days). It’s a bad loss, combined with the Yankee’s sweep in Cleveland, puts the Sox too close to comfort– only a 4 game lead in the AL East.

The 6+ hour drive home last night was a long long drive after that loss, especially sitting next to my pinstripe wearing boyfriend.

Another Step in My Transformation to a New Yorker

It’s nearly complete, my transition to being a New Yorker. Today I stood in a very long line and surrendered my Massachusetts drivers license for a NY license. It actually made me a little sad, not that I feel any sense of regret (other than missing my friends, naturally). Plus I have done more driving since moving to NY than I did in the 4 years in Boston so really it only makes sense since my license now serves a purpose for something other than getting carded.

My next step is to put NY license plates on the pick-up truck. It should come as no surprise that I would love to put one of the following Red Sox tributes on my customized plates:

RDSOXLVR
TEKRULZ
PAPIFAN
MNYBMNY
YNKZSUK
FNWYPHK

See, I will never truly be a New Yorker. But, as Damir wisely put, it might not be a good idea to risk having the truck keyed, bashed, hit, 0r rear ended just because I am an avid baseball fan. Of course the fact that he is a Yankees fan who often rides along with me in the truck had nothing to do with that advice.

Speaking of which, I am still quietly trying to convert Damir’s silly Yankees loyalty, but it isn’t easy when catching a Sox game on TV is so rare. To love the Sox is to know the Sox, or is it vice versa? Anyway. So the next step in my evil plan is to take him to Fenway next weekend to see the Sox play San Francisco. I will ply him with beer and Fenway Franks and make him forget A-Rod and Jeter’s overpaid, over-glamorized celebrity . I also just scored tickets to see the Sox play the Orioles at Camden Yard later this summer, where not only do we have the Sox playing, but also one of my favorite former sox players, Kevin Millar, is the O’s designated hitter. I am sure my plan will work, just give me time. MWAAHHHAAAA HAHHHAAAA HHAAAA!

PS– this is old news, but I love love love the Fenway Faithful and their sense of humor. This picture of A-Rod in Boston with the “Blondies” behind him kills me! For those of you out of the loop, he had recently been seen in several cities strip-club hopping with “longtime stripper and Playboy Bunny-wannabe” Joslyn Noel Morse (a blonde). This wouldn’t be so bad, or even surprising given today’s code of conduct for A-list athletes, if he weren’t actually married. Also not surprising is the fact that his wife is now accompanying him on away-game trips.

Fun at Fenway!

This weekend was all about the baseball. Saturday afternoon with Erin, and again on Sunday afternoon with Reilly. The weather was great, the fenway franks were hot, and we didn’t play so badly either.

This series of photos cracks me up…

OBJECTIVE: Take a self-picture of me and Erin, where Erin manages to keep her eyes open
OBSTACLE: She can’t seem to do this.

Take #1: “Damn, my eyes were closed”


Take #2: “Oww, my eyes!”
Take #3: “Ooops I closed my eyes again!”

Take #4: “OMG, it’s so funny I can’t keep my eyes open!”

Take #5: “OK, lets try again…DAMN!!”

Take #6: “Ugh. You’re killing me!”

Take #7: Ahhh… finally! Success!

Woo-Hoo Opening Day!

Today marks the start of the 2006 baseball season.

Maybe it’s because I live a stone’s throw from Fenway and when the season start the whole vibe of my neighborhood changes (well, at least parking becomes even more of a nightmare than it usually is)… maybe it’s because my brother would yell at me to leave the room if he thought I was jinxing the Orioles when I was a kid… maybe it’s because Jason Veritek is just so damn cute… but whatever the reason, I have become a true blue baseball fan. Well, maybe not as much as this guy:

Sitting in fenway park with a beer and good friends and/or family on a sunny afternoon is one of the best places to be. Erin and I will be heading to a game on in a couple of weeks, which will be my first of the season.

There are also tons of photo opportunities when sitting in the stands. Here are some of my favorites from the past few seasons:











I swear…it’s me, not you.

Yesterday I was supposed to take my team kayaking up in Rockport, but due to inclement weather we had to change plans and we went for a tour of Fenway Park instead. We followed the tour with lots of good beer and bar food at Boston Beer Works. Yum!
Marc trying on Steve’s championship ringThe Press Box

View from the exspensive seats at the .406 Club

Guess which way to the Green MonsterSeats on top of the Green Monster

The Team on the Monster

The Team at the field

The Team in its natural state