Men claim there's no such thing as bad sex...just sometimes it’s better than others. It works that way with the Red Sox and their various seasons too! A Red Sox season sometimes starts out with incredible chemistry and endless possibilities, but all too often turns limp and impotent after the seventh inning stretch or during September when it really counts. But sometimes on a good day when the moon is in the seventh house and the Jupiter is aligned with Mars, a season gets burnt into the Red Sox Nation’s memory so all other memories pale in comparison. I've got to admit win or lose like sex, all Red Sox baseball is good and winning is great.
Maybe it's that arrogant cockiness of knowing something great is about to happen that makes a fan breathless in anticipation of what comes next. As with any memorable interlude that starts out with maybe a look across a room and ends with a night of fiery passion with someone you just can't seem to get enough of, the Red Sox command the same type of passion with its fans. The whisper of a sweet nothing between lovers translates into "I don't believe in curses" and ends with doing the impossible. Oh My God! The Red Sox won the 2004 World Series by doing just that...the impossible.
So we, the Red Sox Nation act like puppies in search of yummies. Year after year the fans have been subjected to unsatisfying quickies and performance anxiety. We continually hear what seems like, “not tonight honey, I have a headache” yet year after year we remain hopeful. We chose monogamy when going elsewhere for satisfaction would be easier and much less frustrating. We keep hoping that hanging in there long enough the Red Sox might stumble onto the right combination of moves so a real explosion will occur. As with sex, so goes baseball...the chemistry has to be there and every step, every move has to be taken in unison and when the climax finally occurs, the game is won and the fans go wild in the stands and in the bars and in the streets everywhere across the nation.
I remember the first moment I knew the Red Sox were going all the way. The Yankees gave the Red Sox that memorable ass-kicking in their own house during the 3rd game of the 2004 ALCS, but the Sox came back to beat them in Game 4. That was when I knew! I told everyone, but no one believed me. Most people laughed, but I knew that they had finally blossomed and was ready to be deflowered. While I believed, most of the world thought the Yankees would be the team once again going to the World Series. Everyone loved pointing out that the Red Sox would peter out like a frustrated old man with erectile dysfunction and never quite bring it all home like they always do. Those doubters were wrong! The Red Sox beat their nemesis, the New York Yankees and as I watched the last minutes of game 4 of the World Series against the St. Louis Cardinals, I held my breath...I couldn't breathe...I wouldn't breathe! My son looked at me and told me to breathe or else I'd pass out, but I hear oxygen loss heightens the climax! Could it be possible that the Red Sox would sweep the St. Louis Cardinals?
How could I explain to him the moment at hand was a moment I had waited my entire life to see? A moment I had truly thought I may never see happen, but there it was happening right before my eyes. While other teams have moments like this often and fans cheer them on, The Red Sox waited 86 years to have a gushing multiple orgasmic moment that not only rocked the world, but made people everywhere believe anything is possible. I hate to sound greedy, but 86 years to remain celibate is a little much for anyone! But once their virginity was lost, the Red Sox learned to play like champions and win like the champions we all knew they could be! Now, here we are 9 years later, 2 World Series later and once again the Red Sox Nation is hungry. We lust for more as we once again play the Cardinals. And once again the Red Sox ask, “Will you still love me tomorrow?”