I hate to cry, but I cried that weekend. I cried when I got to Yawkey Way. I cried when the entire stadium stood on their feet, threw their arms around one another and began to sing "Take me out the the Ballgame" and "Sweet Caroline". And I cried when they played "Dirty Water" on Sunday after we won. And I cried the hardest when it was time to leave.
I stood in awe when all of the Bruins threw the first pitch to the all of the Red Sox- it was like a supernatural experience- these two teams that have the praise of such a loyal fleet of fans. And I jumped to my feet and screamed my lungs out when Youk hit that home run on top of the monster Sunday afternoon. I clapped until my hands hurt when I got to see Wakefield retire batter after batter back to the dug out. When I looked at the scoreboard on Sunday and saw we had SIX runs in only the first inning, my heart filled with such a joy. And I sang at the top of my lungs and swayed from side to side with my Daddy when "Sweet Caroline" came on. It was all so amazing. I've never been in a building that made me feel like I was walking through history, I felt like I was walking on holy ground. Ha, I felt closer to God in that building than I have in almost any church I've been in- but don't tell my mom that- it would be heresy to her. And I was fortunate enough to get to see all of this with one of my favorite people ever.
My Dad and the Red Sox go hand in hand for me. When they beat the Yankees and went on to reverse the curse in 2004, words cannot express that feeling I had when we hugged and celebrated. When I was away at school I would call home and when the small talk was done with we would talk about the Red Sox. When they won the 2007 World Series we were both so excited, I almost cried when I called him to talk about it. When we went to games at other stadiums this man made the baseball experience for me. Going to Fenway with my dad has been one of my dreams since I was about 10- I fell in love with the Red Sox when I was about 8 (when I started to really understand the beauty of having a team) and even a team that hadn't won in so long. They taught me so much. They taught me loyalty even when they crushed your heart. They taught me that patience is rewarded.
When I decided a while back I wanted to make my pilgrimage to Fenway, it was only right that my first time there HAD to be with him- the man that taught me to love them. The guy that would smile and quote the players, the guy that would teach me the phrase "stinkin yankees" (might as well had been cursing)- That guy took me there this year. I've begged him a number of times. I've had the opportunity to go a few other times too, but he wasn't up for the trip those other times. I thought we would never go. This year that changed and waiting for this weekend couldn't have been a better thing. I wouldn't have been able to experience that electricity that shot throughout the crowd when the Stanley Cup was being hoisted over our heads at the parade. I wouldn't have been able to hear the screamed chants and cheers of the crowds when the team took to the warning track in the Duck Boats. I wouldn't have been able to shout at the top of my lungs "WE WON THE CUP" every time they showed the highlight plays on that board in center-field. I wouldn't have been able to clap when they played the Bruins bullhorn and song every time the Sox got a run. And that was just the hockey stuff. I was just speechless in that city. A city with four teams that have all brought home at least one championship in this last decade for their fans. The pride in that city made you want to be from there. It made me want to stay there forever. Boston you stole my heart.