being an expat really tests your loyalties.

so you think you’re a baseball fan? have you spent hundreds of dollars just to be able to watch your team play… not in person, mind, or even on television, but on a tiny window of the internet? have you ever turned down social engagements, and risked alienating countrymen who don’t understand american sports, to sit at home hunched over the computer urging your team on from thousands of miles away? after a big game, have you ever experienced the unique loneliness of having *absolutely no one* to share your joy or despair with? have you ever come home from a long day at work, gone to bed ridiculously early, then woken up at 2am to spend 3 hours in the dark breathlessly watching your team win or lose, only to then try to catch one last precious hour of sleep before the alarm goes off in the morning, drag yourself through the day, and repeat that routine for the next several weeks?

until you have, you can’t really appreciate the unique hell that is the life of an expat sports fan – particularly during the playoffs. i’ve done this routine for a few seasons now – i have the redbull, i have the jersey – but somehow it never gets easier.

my beloved red sox are facing off against the los angeles angels of anaheim (otherwise known as the “we-can’t-figure-out-where-we-want-to-be-from angels”) in the american league division series. unfortunately they’re already down 2-0 in the best of five series, so have a big challenge ahead.

in other words, they *need* my support. punking out because i’m “too tired” is not an option.

but at 2am, peeling my lids open with my fingers, yawning so hard my eyes water, and trying to stay quiet so as not to disturb those sleeping next to me… it’s either a test of faith, or a measure of stupidity. when every fibre of your being is crying out desperately for sleep, you have to wonder: just how much do i love this team anyway?

lucky for me, the answer is “a helluva lot”. cause there’s no other reason behind the irrational hell that i put myself through this time of the year. and of course, better to be in the playoffs than not!

at least, that’s what i tell myself at two in the morning.

strictly game – harlem shakes

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