Now that the World Series has come to an end, regular blogging will be resuming at this location. We all have our priorities.
Now, as a long time Red Sox fan I feel I can wallow in this win for a while, and even pronounce this post my obligatory, sometimes weekly dose of good news. The tension is over, and we can all now try to shed the pounds we gained nibbling away at comfort food (Reese’s peanut butter cups for some, I understand) while waiting for what used to be the inevitable disappointment. But this year, like twice this century, that disappointment did not come. Ah, there’s the rub.
Since I am constitutionally incapable of seeing only the bright side of life (no matter what I may preach each Good Friday), I must point out the small cloud contained within this massive silver lining.
I grew up as a Red Sox fan, always hopeful, and always disappointed. Worse yet, I grew up surrounded by Yankee fans, who rubbed it in almost yearly during my formative years. The best I could hope for was a Yankee World Series loss, which came all to infrequently. Some might say that this was an unalloyed negative, but we Sox fans knew better. Suffering the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune built character, and as a result of our outrageous fortune, we Sox fans had loads of character, certainly more than those superficial Yankee fans. We understood that life is a struggle in which, ultimately, you always lose, but that struggle you must.
Who will teach the New Englanders of today this precious lesson? Why, even last night’s victory was bittersweet. Sure, we old timers had the nagging feeling, deeply entrenched through years of experience, that they’d find some way to blow their early lead. We shall, after all, never forget Bill Buckner (I, by the way, still do not blame Bill. He was injured and McNamara should have put in Stapleton for defense. I said so before the fatal moment.). But today’s Sox fans probably suffered not a moment of angst as the Sox skated without incident to victory. A cliff hanger it was not. Ultimately, nothing good can come of this.
So, we folks within the Boston orbit must accept the fact that our characters shall no longer be built in the fashion they once were. Winning has spoiled us, or at least it has spoiled our offspring, and may, we can hope, spoil their offspring to the nth generation. If you want character, you must look west, where it is still being built in Chicago, the home of the character building Cubs. Long may they lose.
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