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Marcelo



Last Updated: 7/8/2009

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Gender: Male
Status: Engaged
Age: 30
Sign: Cancer

City: Waltham
State: Massachusetts
Country: US
Signup Date: 7/15/2004
Friday, June 02, 2006 
The following article is from the Boston Herald



Hey fake fans: Make like Damon and leave
By Tony Massarotti


They show up like every day is Christmas, and you know what that means: You just lost your seat at church. You have shown up week after week, year after year, and now you have to stand behind the last pew because of some lady with an obnoxious pink hat.

The Red Sox are trendier than a Louis Vuitton handbag these days, more than three years removed from their last baseball-free October. The championship season of 2004 extinguished years of agony and decades of self-doubt, and it rewarded long-suffering loyalists who knew what it meant to hurt. Unfortunately, it also gave birth to an entirely new generation of wannabes, a nouveau riche that shows up at Fenway Park and acts like Paris Hilton.


The rest of us? We are starting to get a little tired of it all. The Red Sox will open a three-game series in Detroit tonight against the rejuvenated Tigers, and there are certain to be Red Sox socialites in the seats at Comerica Park. Most Sox newbies couldnt distinguish between a baseball and a coconut, but they flaunt their allegiance to the Olde Towne Team like a pair of cheesy sunglasses.

Look at me. Im a member of Red Sox Nation.

Before anyone interprets this as an indictment solely of women, lets make something clear: The men are just as bad. There was a minority of New England males who knew nothing about the Sox before the 04 run, but at least they knew to keep their mouths shut. Now the newbies feel compelled to speak because the Sox are hotter than the iPod, so they tell you how great it is that Kevin Youkilis is Greek.

Its funny, isnt it? Before the Sox won, before they shed 86 years of wretched and leaden history, the masochists told us the opposite would happen. They told us that a Red Sox victory would kill the local spirit, that the Sox were proof it was all in the chase. We would all wake up the day after the parade, they assured us, and there would be a canyonesque void in our pointless and pathetic lives.

There would be nothing to look forward to.

And there would be nothing to complain about.

Now the opposite has happened and we can only wonder: Which is worse? Before this phenomenon, before the Red Sox became an international fad, we were enjoying ourselves just fine. October 2004 was one hell of a party, one we would never trade for the world. And it was fun right up until Opening Day last year, when the frauds refused to go home.

And so now, somewhat sadly, the Red Sox have gone global. They do not belong to just us anymore. You can bet that the weekend flights to Detroit were filled with newbies, some wearing Sox hats decorated with sequins. They board airplanes like they own them and they cause quite a stir, and you wonder where they were when Butch Hobson piloted the plane.

Of course, many of them were in middle school. Red Sox Youth is now a privileged lot that sits behind home plate and talks on cell phones, and you cannot help but wonder if any of them ever played the game at all. And when you ask them if they did, they proudly show their blisters from the PlayStation hand control.

On the field? Thankfully, those games have not changed. The Red Sox win some and lose some, though they succeed more than they fail. They still stir the passion in most of us and they still fill the summer, and they leave us wanting for more. And while the newbies prance around and act like theyve never been there, the rest of us do the only thing we can.

We wait to get our seats back.
10:41 PM
 
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