Sox Win Series- Life is Great Before we burn him at the stake (or flame broil him at Burger King), lets think back to how money this guy was in October So this is what it feels like.  Its like hearing recovering drug addicts describe the intoxicating feeling of the first time they mainlined heroin.    We are the World Series Champions.    The Nation is now re-defined, the tables turned on previous stereotypes of tortured souls desperate for just ONE title to stop the pain and snickers from other fans.    Now it’s the Cubs that will bear the burden, those lovable losers.  Now it’s the Spankees, the hateable chokers.  Or the Mets, the miserable ugly stepchild of New York franchises.  No longer is it us.  To quote Tony Montana, “Never me!”   Find someone else to chide.  All we ever wanted to do was love baseball, which will never change.  Others outside Sox Nation never really understood that.  They liked viewing us as a caricature, a distant relative of the soccer fanatics who become enrapt in the emotions and misfortunes of their team to a fault.    Well, no matter how many pitches Foulke leaves over the plate this year, or how many GOD AWFUL Bellhorn backwards K’s we witness, lets not jump off any bridges this year.  Lets all take a step back and realize that the negative angst, the perpetual prognosticated pain that was being a Sox fan has disintegrated.    This is the equivalent of having an incurable disease disappear in a moment’s notice, never to return.  Its like winning the lottery and getting a date with that hot chick you’ve always coveted.    Kids won’t grow up angry.  Winters won’t be a glum recollection of what could have been and what will go wrong.   Lets just walk around with this glow, enjoying the cultivation of a farm system, the rational decisions of a non-robotic GM, and the awe-inspiring at bats of D.O. and Manuel Ramirez.    And do yourself a favor- next time Embree gives up a bomb to blow the lead, spare yourself the knee jerk reaction, get yourself a big-ass picture of The Trophy, and smile!  We are the reigning World Series Champions! Even the crankiest of people lighten up when they win the title- so should you!! Editorial 8/20/04- Another summer is upon us- we have survived the June swoon of the Sox and the inevitable groveling between mayors and unions, court rulings and right wingers.    But there is something that may push me to the brink of sanity, and possibly over the crazy cliff: this friends, is what people call the wave.   As a frequent attendee of Sox games in the bleachers, there is nothing more annoying than the wave.  Usually the wave is started by one of the following types of people:   1)       The annoying drunk fan- this guy has had too much to drink (not that there’s anything wrong with that).  Much like the false confidence one has when intoxicated and approaching a woman out of his league, annoying drunk fan thinks everyone likes him.  The reality is that he is a slobbering flatulent mess whose antics disgust the fans who paid money to cheer or jeer the Sox.  To make matters worse, his delivery is sloppy and the fans have trouble interpreting his alcohol-slurred directives.   2)       The annoying sober fan- at least annoying drunk fan has an excuse.  This guy is usually shirtless, possibly wearing body paint, and definitely a tool.  His actions are usually in attempts to impress the group he came with, or a girl he is courting.  This is ironic because he is probably a virgin.    3)       The bleacher slut- typically wearing a tight pink Johnny Damon shirt, and usually the most tolerable of the wave starters.  The bleacher slut is seeking recognition, and probably is coming off a series of relationships where she was neglected by her Masshole boyfriend.  While sometimes nice “eye-candy,” a general obnoxiousness can override this benefit and become a turnoff.   Origins of the wave are unclear.  The following website provides more wave theories than a confused oceanographer:  http://www.faqfarm.com/Sports/5561  -but one thing is for sure.  Like a terrible STD, nobody cares where it came from, they just don’t want to be exposed to it.   Some say, lighten up whats the big deal?  Well, for the occasional fan the wave seems harmless, even enjoyable.  Its like riding a carousel with that organ grinder music- one trip around is fine, but that 16 year old who works there is tortured by it when falling asleep every night.    Stand up, hands over your head, shrilling voice.  Is this a baseball game or a Madonna concert?  And then there are the fans who boo when the wave dies out around the box seats at the infield.  ”boooooooooooooo.  What are those people, too good for the wave?”   Guess what folks, those people are usually smart enough to have a job that pays enough so they can afford to sit there.  Which means their brains are not on auto pilot doing mindless group activities.  Which means they fortunately aren’t “into” the wave.  And yes, they are better than you.   Am I rambling?  Do I need to continue?  Most of the Massholes will give me an amen, and I am sure this diatribe is mostly preaching to the converted.  But please, for the love of Frozen Ted, send this to a wave fan if you are unfortunate enough to know one.