Bombs Away Courtesy of Big Papi
I used to have a ton of time to write about sports of the professional variety a couple years ago. I had a job that allowed for, uh, downtime we’ll say. Also, I still lived by myself with no animals to chase around, walk, or pick up after. This allowed for me to chronicle the 2007 World Series run, which was an incredible amount of fun.
Now, I get it what I can when I can. I’ve made vows like this before, but I need to get better to gear up for the upcoming school year where I’ll be editing our sports section. Practice makes mediocre.
Watching the Sox play the Royals is probably one of the most frustrating parts of the season for me. I’ll never forget opening day when Curt Schilling got mildy pounded here in Kansas City in Gil Meche’s debut as a Royal and I was made fun of mercilessly at work. I personally went from person to person after the Sox won the Series just to remind them of who had the last laugh.
The point is because I’m a fan of a team in a city I’ve never lived in (although I’ve been there), I get some heckling every now and again. If I show up at Kauffman Stadium with a Sox hat or shirt on someone usually has something nice to say. It comes with the territory of liking a team that has been near the top or on top for the past five years. But I can tell you, before all the success, I got many a question on why I would follow a team ruling the kingdom of loserdom.
But here I am, gladly taking the title of fairweather fan on the chin. I got this quite a bit as a 49ers fan in the 80′s and early 90′s. Of course, when I’m sporting my Ronnie Lott jersey these days no one says a word. Or when I seriously ask people what their opinion is on Vernon Davis panning out in the NFL, it gets met with confused looks.
I have no idea what this post was supposed to accomplish. All I know for the first half finale Josh Beckett will take the mound against the hapless Bruce Chen. If they can’t win tomorrow, I know it’s God punishing me for getting to mass tonight with 10 minutes left.
