The Tribe invades Fenway Park tonight (and the Blue State Blogger will be there in person, lucky girl), and in case there is any doubt, I'll be pulling for the Red Sox.
Three years ago, on the first day of the Red Sox/Indians three game series, I dutifully wore my Indians cap to my tennis clinic. At breakfast, I kindly informed my husband that while I loved the Sox, my loyalties had to be with Cleveland. Afterall, I'd grown up going to Municipal Stadium with my dad, the all time greatest Indians fan going (he can still list the starting line ups of every Cleveland team during the 1950's and 1960's and he can still remember specific games and innings from those decades). As a kid in the backyard, I was Gaylord Perry, the greatest junk ball pitcher of all time. I dragged my best friend to a dive bar in Manhattan in a driving rain to watch the seventh game of the Florida/Cleveland World Series (that would be the series that nobody watched--as evidenced by the empty bar). I was an Indians girl.
That night, during the middle of the third inning, my husband quietly said, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were rooting for the Sox." And I realized that he was right. I desperately wanted the Sox to win. I don't think I qualify as a fair weather fan because that was before they won the World Series. Rather, my unrealized to me, my loyaties shifted the year before when Boston lost that ALSC, that heartbreaking seven game series of 2003. I was a Mainah then and I felt that loss, deeply (not as deeply as my husband, who could literally not get out of bed the next morning).
My father hasn't quite forgiven me and I still pull for Cleveland when they play anyone else. But tonight, my heart is a Dirt Dog and I'm a proud member of Red Sox Nation. Here we go Red Sox.
Oh, and welcome back Trot. Good to see you in Fenway.