Today I Miss Boston

The Red Sox won. I can’t believe it.

I kept waiting for badness to happen, but it never did.

I went to class last night and couldn’t pay attention, because I was excited about baseball. After class, the kid on whom I have a friendship crush from class was chatty, and I had to be like “I’m sorry, I have to run and watch the baseball game.” I don’t know what’s come over me. Apparently my Boston-Red-Sox-gene has been activated in response to living somewhere other than MA.

(Sidenote 1: class was awesome again! We talked about The Fantastic Four and how and why it was revolutionary, and how it’s symbolic. Also there was a new kid, who makes the entire class, including the professor, feel awkward, because he’s read every comic ever made and because he is your quintessential having-no-social-skills-eyes-going-in-two-directions-gross-dungeons-and-dragons-playing-awkward-not-funny-but-thinks-he’s-funny-and-talks-all-the-time-nasty dude.)

I got to Riviera Café at about 8:30. There was a crowd of Red Sox fans outside watching the game. It’s actually a good set up because the walls of the bar are glass (like a green house) so you can be part of things without actually being in the bar. The place had been filled to capacity as of 3:30, so I didn’t have a chance of getting in. What with the job.

I was by myself and didn’t really know what to do, so I was thrilled when two girls suggested a movement to take over a Yankees bar. Fabulous idea! The three of us rallied some other people, mainly others who were there by themselves, to descend upon this bar around the corner.

When we walked in en masse, there was a murmur of people saying “Those are Red Sox people! Grumble grumble.” We picked the right place because their martinis were on sale two for $10! I spent time with these two adorable chicks, one of whom was from Newton. They are probably 22, but I love them anyway. They want to hang out and take me to a vegetarian restaurant nearby.

(Sidenote 2: SuperFly was in town and drunk again, and the girls felt bad for me when they saw him. One of their friends said “Why do you even know that guy?” and I started explaining how I met him after college when I was on the rebound and this same girl interrupts me and says “Look, I have to ask you something – are you like 22 or 32 because seriously you can’t tell at all. Seriously. You like can’t tell. Seriously.” And then the others nodded. Didn’t know how to take that. Did she really think I could be 32!?!??!)

The game was exciting. I am not concerned with details. You saw the game. You know how it was. I don’t remember the details because the martinis were on sale. The Red Sox fans were rowdy with martinis. The Yankees fans were mostly silent.

I met a lot of transplants. People from different places in MA – I met someone from Ashland. I met someone from San Francisco. A bunch of people from Chicago. I would say “And you’re a Red Sox fan?” and they’d say “No, I just hate the Yankees.” We are all united against a common enemy, against the Evil Empire, against arrogance and big mean bullies. Many people in New York hate the Yankees, because they are “the man.” The represent money and all that is wretched.

By the bottom of the 9th things seemed safe, so I suggested we head back to The Riviera to celebrate with the other folks on the street. It was chaos. Police in riot gear. People jumping up and down, screaming, crying. Total happiness, aside from this one lone man in the crowd who was a Yankees fan and kept yelling “You should all just move back to Boston!” He should have watched the game at any one of the 8 million bars in NYC with Yankees fans. He was amusing, though, when he said “The Yankees fans look stressed. Like about-to-deliver-a-baby stress.”

Once it was official, the crowd was officially nuts. I couldn’t stop smiling. I chanted “Yankees suck!” I hugged everyone. I cried a little.

I hung out on the street for a bit to soak it all in, to enjoy happiness, and eventually decided to head home. When I opened the door to the cab, I said “Will you take us to Williamsburg?” In response, the driver said “You a Yankees fan?” and I was like “Hell no!” He said “Then I won’t take you.” I said “Are you serious?” and he said “Yes, I am.” Very stern. Started driving away. I was like “You’re serious?” He said “Are you a Yankees fan? Say you like the Yankees and I’ll take you.” I said I liked the Yankees and then proceeded to say "I can't believe the Red Sox won!" for the entire ride home. The driver was pissed. Whatever. I don’t care. He’s just an evil big bully. I gave him a huge tip because I felt bad for him and his defeated big bully ways.

I couldn’t stop giggling once I got back to The Loft.

I couldn’t stop giggling, but I also felt really sad, because there was nobody there to enjoy it with. Alone again.

All night I had half-awake dreams of baseball and antibodies and Coyote Ugly (no idea!) and Spiderman-shaped-Spiderman-decorated birthday cakes and when I was mostly awake felt nauseous and sad and elated.

Today I miss Boston for the first time since I moved. I miss that everyone on the T had shit-eating grins. I miss that everyone was hungover. I miss being able to go into work late or not at all and that people would understand. I am sad that I can’t say “The World Series is coming to Fenway!” and have people know why that’s exciting. I am sad that I can’t watch the games with friends.

But mostly I am happy, because the Red Sox won!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!