I moved away from Boston for a decade, living the dream as many would say in SoCal, living in Sunny San Diego. And my return to Boston... was a valuable lesson. For so many years and so many away games, I missed the Chinese food (for those of you who have ever had SoCal Chinese food - you know what I am talking about - they don't have DUCK SAUCE!), I missed the brisk autumn nights, snow days, lobster tails, and lobsters with claws - not those spiny tail lobsters. I missed proper road rage, the honk of a horn if you didn't GUN IT when the light flipped green. I missed Patriots Day and Hood Milk, an unhealthy admiration for Tom Brady and a profound realization that Ugg boots are for men too! I missed HOME GAMES (safety in numbers)! And trust me, I can tell you what it's like going to a Sox Dodgers game at the Colosseum being a red jersey in a sea of blue. I missed everything and anything Masshole. It was romantic. A Masshole living in SoCal was like taking a semester abroad, living like a foreigner missing the comforts of home. And only to finally make the triumphant return to the motherland. And to get here and remember that you can find almost everyone not far from where they were when you left. And nothing gives you a better feeling than being home, but for me - I've lived a bit of a different life. With the death of my parents when I was in my early 20's, I never had a house to return home to. It was always with friends. And when the familiarities of home become more haunts from your past, the romantic longing to be home fizzles. But enough about that. What sucked to come home to most was [En]Title[d] Town. When I left in 2003 the Sox were cursed, the Pats we NOT yet a Dynasty, and the C's and B's were not contenders again yet.
Thus, in all my years away from Boston, I would root for the away team because I was always in enemy territory. I rooted for "no free tacos" sitting up in the 300s while the Lakers put a whooping on my Celts (way before 2008). I was hung up by a crane dressed like a Revolutionary War Patriot and egged and shot by paintball guns before a Patriots Chargers playoff game. And I represented the Royal Rooters in Anaheim, San Diego, and LA rocking my Sox jersey with Pride. But I never expected to come home and UNDERSTAND why so many people around the country HATE US. And I may become a pariah in my homeland here in Masshole-ia. But damn Boston, you changed. As much as things stay the same, the lovable losers the band of idiots who cowboy'd up, the town who for generation after generation could not seem to reverse the curse, has taken winning a touch overboard. Not Sox fans. The true Sox fans at least. Lets all be honest here, it's Patriots fans. And my grandfather was a season ticket holder so I hold myself to this same standard. It seems like Patriots fans, and the bandwagons are the worst with this, believe that the other team should not bother to show up... when you got Tom Terrific and Bill Belichick at the helm. It's tiring to listen to - so "Hey The Rest of America" I am hearing you. I love Tommy Brady like every other man in New England does. And before I moved back home to Boston, yes I may have thought Tom possible had been bitten by a radio-active football and given special powers which made him invincible. But I believed it with a child-like magic. And since coming home, I think I've met some people who just flat out believe it. Its weird what winning can do to people - especially since the people winning changed had NOTHING to do with the winning. And I am guilty on that count too. I have a jersey in the closet with stains on it still because I thought I had some voodoo power in not washing it. Superstitions are powerful man. I understand. I do. But there are certain things that make a masshole - being loud, being arrogant, and being charming. And when we loose the charming part because we've begun to believe we are the be all end all to sports greatness, we are just assholes. I wouldn't trade all the championships but I just want us to remember the two SB against the Giants. Right, that sentence was humbling. I love Masshole-lia, but I feel like its changed. Or maybe, I've changed. I think that may be it. I spent 10 years in the sunniest place on earth. The answer to every question there was "living the dream", so I think the hippy happiness may have taken the edge off of me. The edge that every masshole has and needs to break the negative windchill that hits us every winter.
And so, its weird for me to start to feel like I don't care if we win or loose. In fact, loosing may humble us a bit, which we may need. A touch of Humility will do you good. It's odd I feel this way... is this what it's like to be an adult? Whatever it is, I can hear my boys faintly in the background calling me a wussy and asking if I think I'm better than them for thinking this. Oh well.
