For 24 years of my life I was a fan of the Baltimore Orioles.  I’ve attended a countless number of games with my dad, grandfather, sister (and occasionally, Mom) at Memorial Stadium and Camden Yards.  My grandfather once caught a fly ball hit by the Twin’s center fielder (we were sitting in right field when he snagged it with his ball-cap).  Every time I hear the Star Spangled Banner, I want to yell “OOOOOO say can you see” midway through the song. 

But alas, I met and married a Red Sox fan.  Call me a traitor, tell me I just love the underdog (which they were when I met Justin in 2002)… assume that I am a chameleon and wanted to connect with my guy.  Any of those statements might be true.  However, I have a pretty clear memory of October 27, 2004 because that was the night I felt in love with the Red Sox.  How could you not that night?  Furthermore, irregardless of how you may feel about them now, in 2004 they deserved to win and it was such a thrill to watch them.  Standing in front of the tv  in my Watson Hall RD apartment at Syracuse University that evening, crossing my fingers with all my might, I never could have imagined that we would move to Boston  9 months later.  

Yet, here we are living in Boston nearly 4 years later. Moving to Boston was a huge turning point in our relationship and we’ve taken some pretty major steps (like marriage) in our time here.  Our first apartment – - all whopping 400 square feet of it was less than 1 mile from Fenway park.  On summer nights when we had the windows open, we could hear the game and see the stadium lights through the tree branches.  At that point, we had such a small amount of money that we balked at spending more than $40 a week on groceries (for two people!).  But somehow, we found a way to make it to the Red Sox games that year.  Times have changed, but not that drastically, and we still find ourselves making room in the budget to attend games on a regular basis.  And though we have moved several times in the past 4 years, we are still within walking distance to Fenway Park.  

We’ve been to some pretty memorable games over the past four years.  Like the one when rookie pitcher Clay Buchholz threw a no hitter (against the O’s).  Or the night that they hit four consecutive home-runs against the Yankees.  Then last year we were given tickets to game 4 of the ALDS which was Justin’s first ever post season game.  And, I could go on and on about the game that we attended the weekend that Justin proposed to me.  

My point is – - I’ve officially converted to full Red Sox fandom.  I now own somewhere between 4-5 Red Sox shirts, hats, bags and other paraphernalia, know all the words to “Sweet Caroline” and as of next week… will have had my face posted on the Fenway billboard (but that is another post altogether). 

A big part of being a Red Sox fan is loving Fenway park.  Though not the original ballpark for the Red Sox,  it has been in existence  since 1912, even surviving a major fire that destroyed the area around the left field line.  I have a great deal of respect for the Red Sox owners for keeping the park in it’s 97-year old location and for finding creative ways to add seats in order to accommodate the ever-growing population of Sox fans.  Seeing the Sox play on the their home turf is one of the most exhilarating experiences I can think of, particularly if they are winning.  

Though being a Sox fan outside of Boston sometimes lends itself to being the target of nasty looks (since we are no longer viewed as the underdog), it is worth it to be a part of the crowd singing along to “Dirty Water” by the Standells after a victory.   Here we are at our first 2009 home game together last Sunday: 

LET'S - GO - RED -SOX!!!!

In case you were wondering…. we won that night.