Dressed in our best, and prepared to go down as gentlemen

So how do I feel?

For one thing, shocked. I went to bed early last night anticipating a very long day today (going to the Fenway Fiction reading in Kenmore Square right after work). I went to bed with the score 4-2 Boston, and Wakefield doing well.

I woke up this morning, and all was despair.

So how do I feel?

On the surface, at least, deeply frustrated. For once, couldn't we just have it easy? Couldn't we just win the division, and head into the postseason, come what may?

Deeply, deeply frustrated. We got to Kazmir last night--the kid was all but panting on the mound, looking around as if the answer was written somewhere. These are the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. If we lose a series to them, do we deserve October?

Incredibly frustrated. I try hard not to think about Manny's pop-out with the bases loaded early in the game. Thinking about it is like pressing on a bruise.

But on another hand I feel a strange kind of resignation.

The best I can explain it, is, have you ever had a friend who was in a situation or doing something you felt awful about--something you didn't approve of, or objected to, or thought was awful for them--but all you could do was stand by and watch? All you could do was say, "I'm here if you need me, give me a call, let's talk about it," knowing they probably wouldn't reach out?

It's not that you give up on your friend, or don't believe in them. You still, in your heart of hearts, believe they'll want to do the right thing, and will cheer them on every step of the way. But you know that if they don't, you've made your decision already to support them regardless of their actions. That they're your friend, someone you care so deeply about, someone you want the best for.

That's how I feel--a sort of sad resignation. On the one hand, the sky has not fallen yet. A half game out of the division is a hell of a lot better than we were doing at this time last year. A game out of the Wild Card, too, is still not insurmountable. The chips still have to fall. And on the other, even in the absolute worst case scenario, I am with them, I'm behind them, I'll still belong to them. If I have to, I will go down with the ship.

I will say this, however: I am more than prepared to give up on many of my fellow Red Sox fans if I hear a single boo in the upcoming home games to finish out the season. I don't care if they lose every game by ten runs. Booing is absolutely unacceptable, even if the frustration is understandable. I don't care if you rant and rave and hate them in your hearts. But do it quietly--don't you dare forsake them in their own house.

Or do what I do. At the worst of times, try to think about what you're supposed to learn from all this. I'm not saying I have the answer--but I feel like it's out there somewhere. That's what keeps me watching. Sometimes, it's all I have, and sometimes, it's even enough.

Comments

[Dan]

//I will say this, however: I am more than prepared to give up on many of my fellow Red Sox fans if I hear a single boo in the upcoming home games to finish out the season. I don't care if they lose every game by ten runs. Booing is absolutely unacceptable, even if the frustration is understandable. I don't care if you rant and rave and hate them in your hearts. But do it quietly--don't you dare forsake them in their own house. //

Amen. We've seen plenty of ugliness from Sox fans this year - acting like spoiled children.

[deborah]

I just do not understand this booing. We love our Red Sox, we want them to do well. When they are sucking it up, we should be screaming and cheering even louder. We should try to encourage them, not to discourage them.

The booing is counterproductive. Stop with this nonsense, people.

[andy]

...but if I boo louder, they'll win more!

I hits you because I loves you, baby.

[beth]

LOL, andy, i know exactly how you said that, too.

[deborah]

I guess that's why they call it "tough love"
:-P

[Sox Fan in the Heart of the Beast]

Great post as usual. At this point a few things have to break our way, but the postseason is within reach. And if they fall short it won't be for lack of effort.

Despite the occasional nonchalance of a certain LF, this team plays hard every night and has overcome some pretty steep odds to even be where they are today. They lose Pedro, get virtually nothing from Schilling and Foulke, have the worst bullpen ERA in the league, and are right in the hunt with 10 to play -- staying in contention in the face of those obstacles doesn't happen by chance.

So Beth, your perspective is dead-on -- the team deserves its fans' support down the stretch. I'll be angry and disappointed if they fall short, and I might even throw something at the TV (or computer as the case may be), but I sure as hell won't boo my guys.

[Boston Fan in Michigan]

So what you're saying is, the Red Sox are the battered woman who's in a dangerous situation with a real piece of work for a boyfriend, and she needs to get out, but it's so dangerous to leave, and she still thinks she loves him anyways, so we, the fans, just take her out to coffee and listen to her cry and tell her that whenever she's ready to leave we're totally there day or night to take her to the shelter if she needs protection, and she can stay with us if she wants, just whenever she's ready, we'll support her?

Cause dude that's exactly what the whole bit with battered women is, thank you horrible outreach class.

And I guess the abusive boyfriend is the Yankees because the Sox just CAN'T GET RID OF THEM and, sometimes, really don't seem to want to. Ugh. GET OUT NOW, SOX, HE'S SO NOT GOOD FOR YOU!