Philocrites

This fan is still speechless.

by Philocrites

How do I know I could never be a sports writer? Let me count the ways!

1. I have learned that sitting on my couch for four to five hours a night in front of the TV cheering the Red Sox is an unsustainable way of life. Sure, it's satisfying — when they win! — but it crowds out everything else. Which partly explains why I've only sat through a handful of games all year. (Gasp! It's true: I read about regular season games in the next morning's Globe, but only went to Fenway once all season. And without cable TV, I couldn't have watched most games even if I had wanted to. Damn you, Fox 25!)

2. It's exhausting: Wake up late; rush to work; talk about game; work; hurry home; watch game; envy late-night carousers on TV from the comfort of home; fall into coma; repeat! I don't even have time to form my own thoughts about the game, much less think of clever things to say about my other pet topics. How do sports writers come up with whole articles an hour after the game ends? I thought about blogging after the game ended, but it was too compelling simply to sit there watching the crowds on TV. (I did amuse my wife by impersonating one of the guys who ripped off his T-shirt and whirled it around from a bar rooftop to stir up the already frenzied crowd. She wouldn't let me drive the car around the neighborhood honking the horn, however.)

3. More importantly, though, last night's victory left me with almost nothing to say. During the second inning, when Damon transformed the mood from hopeful to triumphant, I realized that outright jubilation — winning the game that really mattered, not just the game that sets up the game that really matters — isn't a Red Sox emotion. It's a great feeling, but also a bit thin. I don't recognize it. Victory started to feel inevitable — interrupted briefly by panic, oh familiar feeling!, when Pedro gave up some runs. Positive inevitability? What kind of Red Sox fate is that?

Nonetheless, Mrs Philocrites and I are happy campers. I picked up some John Kerry-Red Sox buttons at the Quincy Market Kerry store today (they say: "I gotta feeling this is our year!"), and a brand new "B" hat to retire my grungy one on a glorious day. We fell asleep last night listening to our fellow citizens honking their horns and shouting at the bars a few blocks away; strangely, people were still doing it here and there this morning.

I can't tell you how grateful I am for two days without a game to watch. Mrs Philocrites wants Houston to win tonight; I fear a cosmic showdown of Texas and Massachusetts. So we're going to ignore the National League game and just take what comes.

Copyright © 2004 by Philocrites | Posted 21 October 2004 at 5:13 PM

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