Saturday, August 15, 2009
Red Sox and Love 2009
Which is why this next confession is probably heart-breaking for my husband: I kind of hate the Red Sox.
Oh, sure, I was into them for a while. My first baseball game ever was the Red Sox at Fenway. I instantly fell in love with the handsome Nomar Garciaparra. Later, I got kind of psyched about the Nationals coming to DC and bought a little red hat with a big white W. Sometime after that I ran into the Red Sox World Series trophy at a bar in DC. It was on tour without any of the players accompanying it; it was a separate hero.
And yes, I admit, that when Kevin told me that he had a cat named Nomar, the first thing I said was "Like Garciaparra? I love Garciaparra!" Like any devoted girlfriend I tried to take an interest in Kevin's first love, baseball. No matter how much I tried I couldn't really wrap my mind around the more complicated rules and plays. I did start to learn the names of some of the more interesting players. Manny Ramirez, who had a good Hispanic name and was easy to remember because he was well, being Manny; Mike Lowell, my new baseball crush and a Cuban to boot; Gagne, who Kevin was constantly complaining was ruining the entire game of baseball; Matsusaka, Kevin's baseball crush; and Okajima, Matsuzaka's little buddy. I even bought Kevin a cool Matsuzaka shirt that said Red Sox in Japanese. And so what if Kevin watched hours and hours of baseball? I had law school homework to do. Though I warned that one day the homework would be over, and maybe so much baseball would be a bit too much.
Then Manny left. And with him went over 10% of my Red Sox knowledge. Matsuzaka started to suck (and became a great dishonor to his people). And of course, the homework ended. So lots of boring games + no personal interest in the players + every time they lose Kevin is sad. And then I am sad.
I know I married Kevin and that means that to some degree I married the Red Sox, but don't expect me to cheer unless Manny comes back.