Secretly, I’ve been hoping that the Red Sox would be done by now. Done, so that some semblance of off-season order can return to our household. My husband can then stop acting as if yet another planet in our solar system has been swallowed up by the sun every time we lose a game. After all, the Sox did come in ahead of the Yankees. Isn’t that enough?
The answer to this question, I’ve been coached, is no. Even though the 86-year-old curse has been broken, the Red Sox are still required to win every single game for the next 86 years to make up for it. Or, at least, all the important ones. No, no, it’s not impossible. Didn’t you see what happened in Games 4, 5, 6, and 7 in the 2004 ALCS? And then in Games 5, 6, and 7 just last week? I’m putting my own damn curse on the Red Sox, and this one better stick.
(I think I just heard my car windows smashing.)
It may sound like sour grapes coming from a jealous wife (why isn’t he paying attention to ME?), but it’s not. Why do you think I have so much time to blog? He has baseball stats, I have blog stats. He has Dice-K, I have diced kale (by the way, don’t dice kale). He has beer downstairs, I have bourbon upstairs. It’s a marital arrangement made in heaven, really. Or, at least, a heaven that works on a draft system.
After the soul-crushing 2003 season, and the euphoric 2004 season, I wonder who is left standing that has the emotional stamina to care?
My husband, that’s who. The instant replay in his head cannot be turned off. He drags every slight around with him like a bedraggled beast of burden. I ask you, how many times do I have to pick him up out of the hamper and lead him stumbling back to his dreams after he dives across the room to catch a missed fly ball? And the screaming. Oh, the screaming.
Shake it off, man. Somehow, I don’t think Manny loses any sleep.
I know it’s only another week, goddamnit, but it’s going to be a looooong week. I’ve been betting against them all this time, but now they have to win otherwise I’m screwed. For the Red Sox to come this far and then not win the World Series, there will be moping for a month. At least. Then, expect a rebound relationship with the Patriots who, let’s face it, have a much easier game with a much bigger ball, so even if they do win, who the hell cares. The following spring, there will be renewed intensity/desperation with regard to our scruffy baseball team, including promises to watch every single game this time so he won’t let them down again, and dying all of his socks red in a puddle of his own blood. That’s after therapy.
No, not again. Hear this, Rockies, and listen well. This is NOT the time to not suck.
Whenever he mopes, and if it comes to the Ultimate Loss, just remind him: at least he's not a Cubs fan.
Watching those three games was like your mother bitterly telling you that Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and God didn't exist in rapid, pitiless succession.
Posted by: Jim | October 24, 2007 at 01:32 PM
As much as I understand your pain (does Husband play fantasy football?), I'm going to have to side with Husband here in favor of the Sox. Are you at least using the opportunity to eat some good baseball-inspired food? We're doing sausages and peppers for dinner. Yummmmmm.
Posted by: Susanna | October 24, 2007 at 04:11 PM
Think of the Sox post-season as Husband's own "Eat Local Challenge," except that instead of having to, say, grind your own flour, you can eat whatever you want and watch baseball.
(Also, don't forget the rejuvenated Celtics.)
Posted by: And you call yourself a Masshole | October 24, 2007 at 04:39 PM
I like my Sox. What can I say?
And yes, Sox food should be on the table every night, and I was glad to see hot dogs last night. Bring on the sausages!!
I don't do fantasy football (I have always been terrible at those things, March Madness, etc). But I do insist on a little quality time with Mr. Tom Brady each week.
Posted by: Husband | October 24, 2007 at 05:06 PM
I was planning a food photo today. Cranky wanted me to include his Red Sox hat in it.
Posted by: cookiecrumb | October 24, 2007 at 06:45 PM
CC: In the lobster stock? Better without.
Husband: This wasn't the 4-page rebuttal I was expecting.
Masshole: Sounds like a no-brainer when you put it that way.
Susanna: A Scrooge I may be, but we're still having sausages.
Jim: I feel for you. Someday, the dream will be yours, and Santa, God, and the Tooth Fairy will all be in attendance.
Posted by: Tammy | October 24, 2007 at 09:30 PM
My husband who has Sicilian heritage (I don't really know if his behaviour in this question has to do with that or if it's just in his nature) has a different way to 'follow' his soccer team (Milan, obviously Milan based), instead of crying for their losses, he rejoices in the losses of Inter (another Milan based soccer team) and Juventus (Turin based), traditional enemies of Milan. I'm still surprised of the pure joy it gives him... not very nice maybe but it seems better than what you describe. Maybe.
Posted by: ilva | October 25, 2007 at 09:46 AM
Ha, this cracked me up...
Posted by: Luisa | October 25, 2007 at 09:55 AM
Ha! Now that's entertainment! Thank you Tammy! Oh, btw, DH wanted Cleveland to win, but I wanted the Sox to win because of you guys.
Posted by: Sally | October 25, 2007 at 01:09 PM
We're an expat Sox household (ah, but the Nation is nationwide!).
I used to feel your pain, but now I'm a fan, too. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Childog, anyone? :)
Posted by: Anita | October 26, 2007 at 03:24 PM
Anita: It's just so EXHAUSTING.
Sally: Thanks for pulling for us. I owe you one.
Luisa: I'm still loving your gluten-free post.
Ilva: I forgot to mention that my husband does the same thing when the Yankees lose. Oh, the euphoria.
Posted by: Tammy | October 26, 2007 at 09:05 PM