exciting, informative, snarky, and very likely fabricated tales of life as an american expat in london

field of dreams

by J at 1:08 pm on 27.10.2004Comments Off
filed under: this sporting life

Red Sox fandom is a lot like a religion. Most people are fans by birth or family tradition, but as adults, they must choose to make the difficult commitment for themselves. Because it is downright hard to be a Sox fan. The moments of gratification are few and far between. There’s no reward, no glory. There’s not much history of success or achievement to sustain you during the interminable droughts. There are many, many moments where the painful disappointment is sharply acute. There are many, many moments when your faith is sorely tested, your patience reaches its limits, and you decide it is no longer worth it.

For some, this spells the end of their love affair with the sox. For the rest, this is just the beginning.

To be a Sox fan means to live much of your life on the edge – poised at the brink of both success and failure. The gleaming brass ring always tantalisingly just out of reach as you ride the carousel, year after year, battered and bruised from the tumbles off the horse.

But we get back on, again and again. The whole while, asking ourselves why. Questioning our own obvious lack of sanity. Wondering when our steadfastness, our unwavering devotion, will be rewarded. Wondering when it will all make sense, in the grand scheme of the universe. Believing that there is some higher purpose, there is a reason for it all, even if it remains a mystery to us.

Our faith is a faith of mysteries. There are mysteries in our lore, and legends which are passed down through our history. Family stories which are instrumental in building generational legacies. Over the years, our experiences will only serve to futher illustrate the questions we cannot answer, the uncertainties we grapple with in heart and mind. Over time, if we cannot make our peace with them, we at least learn to live with them.

And eventually, we no longer remember a time when we questioned. We believe, simply because we have always believed.

The Red sox are not a team for the faint of heart. And perhaps, that is as it should be. If being a sox fan were easy, there would be no appreciation for the moments which do come.

And there are moments. Moments which sear themselves in your memory, all the sweeter for their rarity. Moments which become indelibly inked in your heart, and appear like manna from heaven when you least expect it. Moments which unite us in joy, in bright and shining contrast to a backdrop of companionable misery. Moments which are sparkling and precious and of incomparable value, of indescribable happiness – their worth cannot be measured.

Our belief is founded in moments like these. We *live* for moments like these.

And the biggest and brightest moment of all could happen tonight.

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