Defending the Raven

Bisexual. Married. Man. Open. Read On.

Baseball Widower

It begins again. Despite the fact that yesterday I had a HUGE work event (lots and lots of star gazing — might report on that another time. Though I have a crazy fantasy going on involving me, SR, Carla Gugino, Bradley Cooper, and Jane Krakowski) the fact that it was the Red Sox first official game of the season did not pass me by. And thus begins another baseball season. Another six (but hopefully seven) weeks of nail biting and Yankee hating.

Now for those of you who have been reading the whole time and reading carefull I’ve probably mentioned offhand that SR grew up in the heart of Red Sox Nation and is a wicked rabid fan – her whole family, especially her brother, included. And for those of you more in the know you will know that I was willingly sucked in during the 2003 season – just in time to be baptized as a true Red Sox fan and having my heart broken by Aaron “freaking” Boone. But, at the same time, I’m not a true Red Sox fan because I only needed to wait one season to feel the glory of a World Series win (now, I’m not saying it was all me, but funny how they won a World Series the first full season I was fan — hmmmmm…). And living in New York City there is a great pleasure (though it does come with some pain) in being a Red Sox fan.

However, while I will count myself as a strong fan I’m not sure I’ll ever become the rabid fan SR is. Hence the title of this post. SR becomes consummed with baseball. Reading everything she can get her hands on. Riding the roller coaster of the ups and downs of the season. Hating them one day and loving them the next; In many ways she’s the typical guy. Dealing with my brother-in-law’s tyraids of hate when anything goes slighty wrong (he does admit to rushin to extreme generalities). Thinking that even when I’m disappointed in how something went I’ll never be as upset as SR because to me, at the end of the day, it’s just baseball.

BUT… there is something incredibly fantastic about it too. Knowing exactly where I was and who I was with (Westside Brewery on the Upper West Side of Manhattan with SR and my brother-in-law) when the Red Sox won the World Series after 86 years. My father, the Yankees fan, having a new respect for me because I’ve become a baseball fan and can talk sports with him. I do enjoy a day at the baseball stadium (even if it is nasty Yankee Stadium the worst baseball stadium in the world. I don’t care if it’s the House that Ruth built and has seen so much great sports history. Fine I accept that, but as baseball parks go… it’s still a parking garage with some grass.). And I TOTALLY get off on watching a guy’s reaction when SR says she’s a baseball fan and they give her the “Suuuuuure. Aren’t you cute” look because she’s a girl. Then see the hard-on that happens when she actually starts talking about teams and stats and not who looks cutest in uniform. And then I get to give him the look of “Yeah, that’s my wife.”

So I guess while I’ll call myself a Baseball Widower… I’m ok with it because it does have it’s up sides too.


April 4, 2006 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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