I grew up listening to baseball games on the am radio. It was a constant source of noise in my home. We’d help my dad in the garden and the radio would sing muse with a static crackle. My dad was a walking encyclopedia of baseball stats. His team was the Chicago White Sox, but he watched and listened to all the games. I can’t help but think of my dad when I think of baseball. And my grandma knew more about the Cubs than most men her age.
I never really took to baseball. Sorry folks, but it bores me. I love listening to a game though — the noise like music. I do have to say though that there is a beauty to the game. Something soft and American pure. The sound of a baseball game on the radio is just as pure for me as songbirds in a park. I wish I could talk to my dad about this series and every one that has passed since 2003.
I am lucky to have married into a beautiful Boston sports family. My mother-in-law made a cake for the first game of the World Series. My brother-in-law made homemade meatballs and pasta sauce. I am sure my sister-in-law and brother-in-law had their own Red Sox gathering. My husband has every Patriots and Red Sox shirt ever made. I love this about my husband’s family. I love Boston sports fan. Nobody can touch them. They are fierce.
One can not help but cheer for the Red Sox. Fenway is a magical place. I love the energy there. I remember going to my first game there with a friend from college. It was on her insider tour. She now works for the Red Sox. We sat in the Green Monster seats and ate Fenway hot dogs. We may have had a beer or two.
This photo of Matt Damon and me was taken at Fenway. It was on Father’s Day. I took my mother-in-law.
Go Red Sox. That is who I am cheering for.