Red Sox Nation

Contrary to popular belief, the true Red Sox experience does NOT begin at Fenway. It actually begins long before the national anthem has been sung or the opening pitch has been thrown. The real beginning of a Red Sox game is on the green line of the subway headed to the game. Bostonians are notoriously brash but when headed to a game they turn into polite... almost genteel neighbors while cramming together on the train. The mood is always upbeat and there's an undeniable sense of optimism and excitement. If you are the lucky holder of a ticket to a seat at Fenway, your fortune is indeed bright. Mostly everyone piles off the train at the Kenmore stop and heads towards the exit. Before you can reach the exit however, there are a handful of individuals asking if you're selling tickets. Once you're up on the street there's another handful of individuals asking if you're buying tickets. I've always wondered why they don't all just get together and make a business arrangement.

From there you turn the corner and walk the bridge that crosses the Massachusetts Turnpike. With the cars speeding below your feet you encounter the guy selling programs, then the guy with the sandwich board telling you the end of the world is near. There's usually the guy playing the plastic containers turned on end as makeshift drums. You walk past the Cask N' Flagon where alcohol has intensified the excitement. One last turn onto Lansdowne Street to find your gate and you are met with the overwhelming ballpark aroma. Soft pretzels, bratwurst and nachos oh my! In spite of my efforts to avoid the fattening Fenway Franks and soft serve in a mini-baseball helmet I immediately salivate at the smell. "When in Rome..." I think to myself.

Brent has Liesel in the snugli. For the occasion we have her dressed in her onesie that says, "There's No Crying Unless You're a Yankees Fan" along with her Red Sox hat. Everyone and I mean EVERYONE is making comments. "Oh how cute!" "Look at that baby!" "First Red Sox game?" "That's how to raise 'em!" We go through security and I joke with the man checking our diaper bag that if he confiscates her diapers I'm bringing her back when she's dirty. He smiles at me, barely looks in the bag and puts a bright, green sticker on it meaning we're a go. Eventually we find our seats and sit back for an evening of entertainment brought to us by the likes of Jason Varitek, the newly acquired Jason Bay and of course Big Papi. This is Red Sox Nation.


My love affair with the Red Sox began many years ago. When I moved to Boston it was immediately apparent this was a baseball town. Coming from Iowa where football is the flavor of choice when it comes to sports I had to learn all about the Red Sox and their history. Why the Yankees were so hated. What the "curse" meant and why not to mention the name Billy Buckner in mixed company. Who Ted Williams was and why there's a tunnel named after him in the Big Dig. Like so many before me, I too wanted to be a part of this story and began to follow the team. As my time in Boston continued, frustrations with my dating life did too. I always had dates, but finding my eternal companion had eluded me as much as the World Series Championship had eluded the Red Sox. I found a parallel in that no matter how hard we tried, it seemed in the end something was against us.
After a particularly bad date I was having a conversation with God. Okay, I didn't need to be married RIGHT then. I didn't even need to know the guy. I just needed to know if it was ever going to happen. Ultimately that would alter some of the decisions I had facing me in my life at the time. I just needed a sign "Heavenly Father, if the Red Sox win the World Series this year, I'll know that I'm going to get married." At the time, I thought my chances were about as good as the Red Sox's were.

A few months later the Red Sox made it into the playoffs as the wild card. Okay Heavenly Father... you caught my attention. They beat the Angels in game after spectacular game. I'm listening Heavenly Father... with rapt attention! After humiliating losses to the Yankees they rallied in game 7 of the playoffs for a 10-3 win. Not only did it secure them a place in the World Series, but it has been called the greatest comeback in baseball history. Wow Heavenly Father, you really DO hear prayers! By then the locomotive was in motion and was not to be stopped. The Red Sox didn't just win the World Series. They SWEPT the World Series, reversed the curse, went down in history and became world champions; all on my birthday, October 27th of 2004. You may think it sounds ridiculous but it's almost as if Heavenly Father was saying, "Okay Danika, this one's for you." Oh yes, I became a believer.

Interestingly enough I didn't marry the guy I watched this momentous event with and was dating at the time. Less than two years later, I married someone infinitely better for me. Going back to Fenway with my fabulous husband and adorable baby was almost a spiritual experience. I had my family, and my Fenway frank too!