It’s been a great spring for those of us who are Red Sox fanatics. Our guys are looking as mighty as any ballteam in history, racing ahead to an 8 1/2 game lead in the division already.
But despite that miraculous year when the Red Sox vanquished our enemies in the Bronx and went on to crush the Cardinals, there’s always a part of any Sox fan that is firmly convinced it will all collapse before the season draws to a close. Somehow those damn Yankees will find the formula to pump life into their aging veins, again.
Whatever happens, though, here in West Hartford, we’ll be rooting for our teams, joshing with our friends who are fool enough to give their allegiance to the wrong half of the New York-Boston rivalry, and glad as always that baseball is always there to give us a diversion from squabbling about taxes, war and those damn politicians.
Personally, I’m happy to live on the frontier of Red Sox Nation. It’s nice to have actual Yankees fans around. When you’re in Worcester or Waltham, the Yankees are purely mythical. The only pinstriped fans there are cranks. Here, however, we’ve got the real thing, in abundance, though they are surely outnumbered even so.
So let me say this to my neighbors in West Hartford who sold their souls to Steinbrenner’s dream team: HA!
And, yeah, I know it’s a long season. Things can change. Things will change.
But still… HA!