For the first eight years of my life, oblivious to most of my surroundings. Eight years where memories disappeared quickly and were either faded into mush, or happened to leave my mind completely. Well, during those eight years, I was a Red Sox fan.
But then in 1989, the Giants, led by Will Clark and Kevin Mitchell made a trip to the World Series to play the vaunted Oakland A’s. The A’s swept, rather easily–even for a sweep. But my cousin became a temporary Giants fan that season. And since he was a fan, I “chose” to be one as well.
So I adopted the Giants as my new team. And the following season, as Griffey was bursting onto the scene, I became a Mariners fan as well. One team in each league. Soon, in just a few years, I would be cheering for the two best players in baseball (Griffey and Bonds). It was very good at the time.
But my heart was never in it. Never fully anyway. Sure, I liked the Giants. And sure, I really liked Griffey. I browsed the standings in USA Today each and every day, as my Dad brought the paper home from work, checking to see how Griffey did, how the Giants fared. And along with the standings, I looked through the additional box scores and league leaders as well. Something I anticipated doing each day.
Skip forward a few years. I had moved to Florida, but was visiting New Hampshire, and was doing so for well over a month. Nomar was breaking out, and I was watching, diligently, each and every day. If I was busy, and couldn’t watch the game, then I’d wait for the evening news. If not the news, I would check the paper. But mostly I would just watch it, and wait until Nomar came up, again, each and every time.
He was the next best thing. Sliced bread was the greatest thing since Nomar, well before it was the greatest thing since Matt Wieters. And boom! I was again where my heart wanted me to be. I was a Red Sox fan.
78-84 was the record that season, but it was an exciting ending, a conclusion breaming with optimism. It is the kind of season that I miss, personally. Right when one knows their team will be good the following season, they know that next year may not be the year, but it in fact WILL be the year. They have gone from down in the dumps, to up in the clouds, dreaming of glory the following year.
Nomar Garciaparra simply made me a Red Sox fan again. And without him, I don’t know that I would have gone back.
So one can imagine how much I am looking forward to tonight, as Nomar Garciaparra returns to Fenway for the first time. It shall be glorious.
Good for you. I suspect the careers of Pedroia, Youk, Bay, Ellsbury, Lester, Papelbon, Buchholz, Delcarmen and others are having similar effects on a variety of young Red Sox fans around the RSNation.
Thanks, Gerry.
For you Joe it was Nomar, in my case, I was a foreign student curious about the tradition in Boston, my freinds there introduced me to Baseball by taking me to Fenway to watch the greatest pitcher of all time Pedro Martinez “dealing” and I still have goose pumps when I think about the magic of that day of summer 1999! Gracias senor Pedro and all Red Sox players who gave me all those memories (Lowe, Nomar, roberts…)
I am glad Nomar brought you back to the Red Sox. Man he was something special to watch. The excitement he brought back to Fenway was amazing.
With that said his last two years with the team he was a miserable (expletive) and the exact reason we never won before he left. His me first attitude would have brought down the 2004 team had he not been shipped out the door.
My lasting impression of him is sitting his but on the bench in an extra inning game at the Old Stadium while his whole team stood on the top step cheering teammates in a pivotal game.
Sure he brought lots of joy but as soon as A-Rod and Jeter signed there big deals he pouted for more money and when he didn’t get it he became negative. Much like Roger and Boggs he cared solely about himself and not the Red Sox.
I for one am looking forward to his return and hope Fenway boos him. They won’t though they would rather Boo Johnny Damon (a guy who gave 100% everyday he put on the uniform). Makes no sense to me.
Growing up, I was never a baseball fan. When I was in the 10th grade, my father got the family tickets to a Sox game, against the Mariners, I didn’t really care who won. The Mariners jumped out to an early lead, and kept it for most of the game. The sox tied it in the 7th, and got men on Second and Third in the 9th, with Mo Vaughn up. With a former MVP at bat, they decided to walk him, and pitch to Nomar. Nomar hit it into the screen, and ever since, I’ve been a Red Sox fan…