Boston Red Sox

I went to my first Boston Red Sox game when I was 3 years old. I still have the ticket stub. My dad has taken me to at least one game a season, every year since then. He and I have never been to a losing game together.

This year, I moved back to Virginia before I got the chance to go to a game. I probably wont be able to see them Sox play this year. I can't even watch them on TV, because the games don't air around here.

This breaks my heart more than I can reasonably explain. These games mean a lot to me.

It means spending an awesome day with my dad, without worrying about work. I love spending time with my dad.

It means spending a great day at a place that is magical. Anyone who has been to Fenway Park knows it. That place is just..... you can't be unhappy at Fenway. It just doesn't happen.

It means connecting with strangers. The love of a team turns the strangers sitting beside you into your best friends for a few hours. As someone who has a hard time talking to people I don't know, this is wonderful.

It means watching baseball. I just really enjoy the sport. I've never been good at playing it, but I love watching it. Give me any teams, and I'll watch. In person or on TV.

It means watching my team win. Cheering when whoever is pitching strikes someone out. Jumping up out of my seat and leaning forward, trying to see through the crowd, wondering if whoever is running will make it home. It means being a little anxious when the opposing team gets a few runs ahead (because this happens in every game I go to). It means breathing that sigh of relief when we finally catch back up (in the 7th inning. Always in the 7th.) It means singing Sweet Caroline in the 8th, and listening to Dirty Water after they win.

It's tradition. I'm a sentimental fool and love traditions.

Typing this out helped me. I'm not crying anymore.