Deep Moral Dilemma Strikes Catholic Boston Red Sox Fans

"Wait 'till next year." It's never too soon to have the right attitude.

So people think there's actually meat in a Fenway frank?

Apparently the Archbishop does..

Okay, heres the thing everyone seems to be missing----
Its not St Patricks Day and they arent serving Corned Beef
Then again, yeah..what really is in the Fenway Frank?

My guess is they shall pass on the dog and go for the beer

but whadda I know, I be just anoddah Bahstin Irishmahn

<Shudder>

Seems to be a lot of Bostonians on this thread.

I haven't seen one single reply from an Arizonan.

Arizonans have nachos, bean burritos, and fish tacos Gus. Lots of choices here.

Yummm, fish tacos and bean burritos and Sea of Cortez shrimps.


If they were really good Catholics, then they'd have given up something a lot more meaningful than meat on Fridays during Lent... something like... say... baseball.

They are Red Sox fans Piffka, they have already given up baseball.

Oooooooo -- ouch... (And you? A Yankee fan?)

No, Piffka, I am a Red Sox fan.

Red Sox fans understand the zen meaning of futility.

We suspend ourselves above any connection with the reality of baseball:
wins/losses/hits/strikes/outs/ uh/ er/ World Series
and submerge ourselves in the grace and beauty of the game:
the flight of the ball over the Green Monster,
the dartlike throws of the shortstop to second base
and from second base to the guy sitting behind the dugout
drinking a large lemonade,
we drink in the great arcs and angles of the diamond below us
while we drink in several hundred pints of Budweiser beer.

As Tom Hanks once said "There is no crying in baseball."

We do that on the way home in the privacy of our subway car.

Joe (From New York - the distance makes it easier in so many ways.)

I had no idea there were Red Sox fans in New York. Do you wear red sox to the games?

A Sox Fan Goes to a Game in the Bronx

I skulk into the stands wearing a ballcap that says "Life is good."
It is a khaki hat.
I wear nothing red but my lips.
I sit quietly next to my Yankee fan wife, squeezing her hand during the good moments.

I buy us really good seats, the theory being that the most serious drunks won't spend the money to sit near us. This theory does not always operate.

I listen carefully for chortles, stifled cheers and the mis-placed handclap.
From these one can spot a Sox brother or sister secreted nearby.
Knowing glances may occasionally be exchanged, nods of satisfaction, slight head shakes of despair.
In especially dramatic moments, a lifted beer cup silent salute, but that is all.


When they play "Start spreading the neeeeews...." at the end of the game, the two of us walk arm in arm down the ramps. I always feel like I'm in one of those WWII French resistance movies, the girl on my arm, though loyal to the enemy, has kept the secret of of my leanings from those around us because she loves me and now we are making our escape.

===
Sometimes we go to Yankee Stadium when some other team is in town.
It doesn't really matter which one, I still make a wish on every pitch for a hit, a homer, a screaming line drive down the left field line that will score both men on base. If they aren't the Sox, I don't care who's up.

Joe

That's pretty damn funny, Joe. Good visual.

I just describe my life, people think it's funny.

I think there's potential here for a tv series.

"The Adventures of Joe Nation" or some such thing.

I was going to call it NYPD Jew.

then I found out from my parents we weren't Jewish.

Actually, it was the parents of my Jewish girlfriend who told me

and then they told my parents who then told my wife.

I was upset.

I had to do a re-write

and I could hardly hear myself think with all the yelling going on.

I love the adventures of Joe! The description at the game was both touching and hilarious... have forwarded it to Mr.P who is a diehard baseball fan. Last week he bought tickets for a few Mariner games -- the cause of much joyful deliberation. They include watching the Mariners play KC, Angels, Indians, Yankees & Red Sox (in September). I won't be going to all those games... my favorite seats are in the front at the "Hit It Here" restaurant, but he snagged a group of cheap seats to take our son, who knew what was good for him and learned to love baseball. They're a pair watching games on TV (why we have cable) and both revere Edgar Martinez.

To the best of my understanding, God could not possibly be a Yankee fan.

Thanks, Joe.