Why We Wait: October Glory

This is the second article in the Why We Wait series. If you don't know what it's all about, you can check out the first article here.

Any good Red Sox fan was probably raised to think of a World Series Championship as if it was the Holy Grail. While it was possible that the Red Sox could eventually win one, believing in it was like believing in an ever elusive myth. Perhaps some of us were lucky enough to have relatives old enough to remember 1918. Most of us, however, didn't. If we had relatives that were alive then, they likely weren't old enough to remember the World Series.

For me, I was more like tales of 1986. My dad had the Champagne bottle popped, and the glasses ready before you-know-what happened. I also heard stories of the fever surrounding the 1967 Impossible Dream season. But the Red Sox lost that World Series in a Game 7 as well, as they did in all five of their World Series appearances from 1918 to 2004.

I grew up hearing my father tell me "maybe in your lifetime". And my father was only reciting what his father told him some 20 odd years before. But things are obviously different now.

When the Red Sox won it all last year, it was clearly different from 2004. In 2004, the Red Sox did the impossible. If they never did it again, I would have been happy. There wasn't a day that went by between October of 2004 and October of 2005 that I didn't think about how great it was that the Red Sox were champions. It didn't feel like they won a World Series; it felt like they won a century long war against a cruel, mocking tyrant.

Last year was different. I appreciated the process much more. Plenty of people told me that the Red Sox would choke again, like they always do. But I just laughed. There really wasn't any weight to those words anymore. After 2004, horror stories of choking Red Sox teams were all just talk. This was an entirely different team, in an entirely different century. There wasn't a day all season that I thought the Red Sox were going to miss the playoffs.

And when they won it all, it didn't feel like salvation. It felt more like confirmation. Confirmation that this wasn't the Red Sox of old. Confirmation that they were a true force to be reckoned with. And confirmation that almost two decades of unrewarded faith was worth it, no matter how much suffering it caused. And the reward was more than I ever could have imagined just four years ago.

It's so unbelievable, that often I forget that the Red Sox won in 2007. But every time I'm reminded, I can't help but smile. And that's why we wait.

Open Letter From Red Sox Nation

Well, at least for one member of it. Just like any fan, I have no power or control over other fans of my team, so I can only speak for myself. Recently, this "holiday greeting card" was brought to my attention. Take a quick look at it, it only takes a moment.

For most sports fans, the greeting card is probably humorous. And for some reason, the old guy in the chair reminds me of Freddy "Sez" Shuman, the guy who walks around Yankees games with a pot and a spoon. I don't know, maybe cause they're both old?

Anyways, for one friend of mine, who's a Yankees fan, it wasn't all that humorous. And no, I didn't send it to him, I'm a very polite Red Sox fan. He took it as an opportunity to point out what he thought was wrong with Red Sox fans.

According to my friend, it's not that they're cocky, it was because Red Sox fans have a kick-em-while-they're-down mentality. Now I give my friend credit for not claiming he dislikes Red Sox fans because they're cocky. Because that would have been a pretty lame excuse. Yankees fans are notorious for their "confident" and "bold" attitudes themselves. And when a fan base's favorite team does well, I feel as if they kind of have a right to to be a little cocky.

But this "kick-them-while-they're-down-mentality" I found to be especially interesting. Now the Red Sox haven't been all that successful until this decade. And growing up as a Red Sox fan in the early and mid-90's I seem to remember a certain fan base that kicked me while I was down quite a bit.

After all, from 1918 until 2004, there weren't many sports teams as down as the Boston Red Sox. They didn't just lose, they're lost in grandiose fashion. The Red Sox lost back-to-back-to-back-to-back World Series Game Sevens. In fact, every World Series they went to from 1918-2004, they lost in a Game 7, and often in heartbreaking fashion. An example of which would be Enos Slaughter's "Mad Dash" pictured below.

I doubt there are many Yankees fans out there who have never uttered the year "1918". When Aaron Boone came to the plate in Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS, there were grown men dressed in ghost costumes in Yankee Stadium. And when Red Sox fans left the stadium that night, I doubt Yankees fans were all that concerned about kicking them while they were down.

Yankees fans kicked Red Sox fans while they were in the midst of one of the most painful 86 years in any baseball team's history. So it doesn't make sense for them to complain about it now, when they've only been on the other end of it for a few years. In fact, given the manner in which Yankees fans have beat down Red Sox fans for the better part of a century, it shouldn't come as any surprise how much Red Sox fans enjoy turning the tables.

The best piece of advice I can think of for Yankees fans who feel as if they're being kicked while they're down, would be develop a sense of humor. A quirky sense of humor has certainly helped Red Sox fans through quite a bit of heartbreak. You can't let insults towards your team get under your skin. Red Sox fans have been the butt of jokes for a long, long time, so I doubt they're going to let up any time soon.

Can Red Sox fans be dicks? Sure they can, and many Red Sox fans can take things too far. But let's be honest, that behavior is not at all exclusive to Red Sox fans. On behalf of Red Sox fans everywhere, I apologize for any over-the-top rude behavior which they've displayed lately. And in the spirit of the holidays, I extend to fans all over baseball the proverbial olive branch.

Sincerely,

Ethan Michaels