Red Sox (tired) Nation
Okay, it feels like day 100 of the Red Sox road to glory. I’m not a person to stay up late and I’ve been up late almost every night for weeks.
This is why I like football. One game, sixty minutes. That’s it.
I’m cranky. The kids are cranky. Jeanine and I decided we’d let them stay up as late as they wanted as long as they were watching the game.
This morning, Jake was jumping up and down in front of me.
I don’t know why I’m so hyper, He said.
Might be you’re really tired, I said.
Maybe, He said as he continued to bounce his way over to have some breakfast.
My brain isn’t functioning today. Up until past midnight watching the final strikeout- god, I love watching Papelbon pitch- I’ve spent the day gathering supplies for the next two game nights. Chips, salsa and beer.
I don't even like beer but something about baseball requires beer.
There is a stack of things to do but I don’t trust my judgment. I don’t even have it in me to throw a party. I can’t be thoughtful and read anything more intense than the box scores. I have a Superbowl extravaganza every year but I can’t possibly hold out for what may be three different “final” games.
The kids keep begging for hot dogs, fries, pizza- you know, special game watching food. I’ve gained at least five pounds. Enough. Salad tonight.
The good part is that everyone around me is in exactly the same shape. There is not a single person I know who does not open a conversation with, I am SO tired…
Boston is watching. And Boston is yawning. Even the non-fan is being dragged into the event. My friend who prefers to read or knit sat dutifully in front of the game the other night with her wife. She’s even learned a couple of the player’s names. The spitting, she confessed, is a little too much but it is fun to watch them win.
Another friend asked me if my kids got to stay up. I admitted yes, they did. As long as they could keep their eyes open.
None of them has made it past the 5th inning so far.
She said, Good. It’s a sense of community that rarely happens today. She described being in the Washington Heights neighborhood on the night of the ALCS game seven. It was warm out and through her open window she heard the roar go through the neighborhood, cheering the win.
Yes, it was New York City, but in the predominately Dominican neighborhood, they were cheering for Manny and Big Papi.
It’s a special time in my city. I’m excited to be a part of it even if it means not getting any work done.
And with no game tonight? I’m going to bed at 8PM.
This is why I like football. One game, sixty minutes. That’s it.
I’m cranky. The kids are cranky. Jeanine and I decided we’d let them stay up as late as they wanted as long as they were watching the game.
This morning, Jake was jumping up and down in front of me.
I don’t know why I’m so hyper, He said.
Might be you’re really tired, I said.
Maybe, He said as he continued to bounce his way over to have some breakfast.
My brain isn’t functioning today. Up until past midnight watching the final strikeout- god, I love watching Papelbon pitch- I’ve spent the day gathering supplies for the next two game nights. Chips, salsa and beer.
I don't even like beer but something about baseball requires beer.
There is a stack of things to do but I don’t trust my judgment. I don’t even have it in me to throw a party. I can’t be thoughtful and read anything more intense than the box scores. I have a Superbowl extravaganza every year but I can’t possibly hold out for what may be three different “final” games.
The kids keep begging for hot dogs, fries, pizza- you know, special game watching food. I’ve gained at least five pounds. Enough. Salad tonight.
The good part is that everyone around me is in exactly the same shape. There is not a single person I know who does not open a conversation with, I am SO tired…
Boston is watching. And Boston is yawning. Even the non-fan is being dragged into the event. My friend who prefers to read or knit sat dutifully in front of the game the other night with her wife. She’s even learned a couple of the player’s names. The spitting, she confessed, is a little too much but it is fun to watch them win.
Another friend asked me if my kids got to stay up. I admitted yes, they did. As long as they could keep their eyes open.
None of them has made it past the 5th inning so far.
She said, Good. It’s a sense of community that rarely happens today. She described being in the Washington Heights neighborhood on the night of the ALCS game seven. It was warm out and through her open window she heard the roar go through the neighborhood, cheering the win.
Yes, it was New York City, but in the predominately Dominican neighborhood, they were cheering for Manny and Big Papi.
It’s a special time in my city. I’m excited to be a part of it even if it means not getting any work done.
And with no game tonight? I’m going to bed at 8PM.
posted by Sara at 4:36 PM
5 Comments:
Hey it isnt just boston town fans we here in Dansville NY I know of about 15 people that are tired from staying up for the games. woo hoo go red sox.
ttfn
I live in downtown Boston and can remember exactly that; all the open windows and the whole city screaming with joy in 2004! It is an amazing thing to be a part of!
Im going to my room to sulk
oh now laura, I'm sure someday the yankees will be great again.
(NOT)
sorry. can't help but gloat.
it's the beauty of the red sox yankee war. one of the only left in modern sports. let's savor it and always promise to taunt each other.
*sigh* ok
but I like it better when I can taunt you when the Sox SUCK!
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