For those of you who don't know, October is serious business at our house. In 2003, Robert and I took a lovely trip to the Northeast in October where we went to Providence and took in Water Fire, and then to Salem since it was around Halloween, Boston, and everywhere in between. Those were the days when the idea of a vacation was to actually go somewhere for a week or ten days and not just home for Christmas. We ended up in Kennebunk, Maine where we had dinner with George and Barbara. Ok, not really but we did stay at a lovely B&B right on the beach. Oh, did I mention that my husband is a fanatic Red Sox fan? Did you see Fever Pitch? That's Robert. Had he thought to be a teacher to have his summer's off to watch every game, he would have. During the games last week when they were actually winning, everyone had to recreate what they were doing night after night. Taylor had to sit in a certain chair with her Red Sox hat turned sideways, and wasn't allowed to move. Finally, at 9:45, I insisted she had to go to bed. They lost. All because of some vast cosmic influence that Taylor's hat has over the Red Sox's destiny.
So, we were in Maine and I guess I hadn't really caught on yet that we had to watch every second of every playoff game during vacation and the outcome might determine the mood of the trip. Call me crazy, but I'm just a happy-go-lucky gal glad to be out of the rat race for a minute in a place where my Blackberry had sketchy reception. They were 5 outs away from victory in the 7th game with the Yankees and they end up losing. I know that was anti-climatic but I went through enough drama at the time that I don't really care to re-live the outcome. Suffice it to say that the trip was ruined. For those of you who relate, I made the ULTIMATE rookie mistake by saying, "It's just a game." That is the equivalent of, "It's just a lung," or "It's just a little dent." I now avoid trying to plan vacations in October in case they make the playoffs, which they did this year for those of you not totally obsessed. Night after night we watch. Lately, we seem to watch them lose. Last night, there is a huge discussion tirade about how before it was just a disappointment when they lost. I mean, they had been losing since 1918 so I can't really see how you could do anything but expect them to lose, but apparently you can be really disappointed. He went on to say how his Grandfather or his Mother never got to see them win a World Series after being disappointed fans for so many years. I get that. This year, however, is different. Everyone knows they can win since they've done so twice now in the past 3 World Series, so this time it is not disappointment but rather anger. Hmmmmmmm. Anger?? Really?? I like sports just as much as the next person but when my team loses, I'm disappointed for about 5 minutes. Never angry. Where do you focus this anger? The players, the coaches, the oh-so-delicious General Manager, or perhaps the hot dog guy?
I'm begging you to please join your cosmic forces for tomorrow night's game. If you watched a game where they won, please recreate the scene. What you were wearing, where you were sitting, how you had your hat, etc. Please. For me. October is almost over.
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