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How can you not like what this team has done so far? With a pitching rotation that has been less than brilliant, the Red Sox have been getting it done with offense, and some great bullpen work. 42 years young, veteren knuckballer Tim Wakefield has been the anchor for this staff going (as of May 6th) 3-1 with an ERA of 2.91. Lester and Beckett have struggled early on, but there is no doubt that these two uber-talented pitchers will find their way and win games. Brad Penny has been up and down, and with the exception of his last start in Tampa, Justin Masterson has been great. And the bullpen? It has been absolutely superb through the early going this season. Ramon Ramirez and Manny Delcarmen have been nearly lights-out, Papelbon (despite allowing more baserunners) has converted all of his save opportunities, and guys like Oki and Saito have added depth to an already strong bullpen. The offense has been doing great despite a slumping David Ortiz. At the top of the order, Jacoby Ellsbury has done a good job of getting on base and getting into scoring position and Dustin Pedroia has continued to be himself; batting over .300 and continuing to show us why he is the reigning AL MVP. Kevin Youkilis has been unbelivable, batting close to .400 and his power numbers have continued to go up. Jason Bay has more than filled the void left by “that other left fielder” and has supplied us with some huge hits (First game of the season series with the Yankees…remember that?). Mikey Lowell is in my opinion one of the biggest parts of this offense. Coming off that hip surgery, no one really knew what to expect from the third baseman. And all he’s done is come in and bat over .300, lead the team in RBIs, and play great defense. Nick Green has provided us with some offensive punch in the bottom of the line-up, and Tek has hit some important homeruns. All in all, you’ve got to like the way this season is starting, and it could be that the best is yet to come. Oh and opening the season 5-0 vs. the New York Yankees? That’s just icing on the cake.
My name is Mary Fields I am 43 yrs old and this is my Red Sox story. My future is uncertain with my health, finallcial and personal problems. I have lupus, fibromialgia, PTSD and a lump in both breast so before this story is lost I want it told. This is a true story and I want to share it to give hope to others and to let people know the Boston Red Sox are more then just a team to me and always have been. I can be contacted though my e-mail address or at http://www.myspace.com/Redsoxfanalways8 or http://www.facebook.comRedsoxfanalways8
HAVE FAITH DREAMS DO COME TRUE
I been waiting for the mail one day in March of 2005. Something special was to arrive today. It seemed like I waited all day. Yet it was only about 1:00 pm when the mail finally arrived. I searched through all the mail, there it was, and I was holding one of my lifetime dreams in my hands. I slowly opened the envelope. I was a bit couscous I did not want to rip the tickets and I was still in disbelieve that this was really going to happen? I peeked inside the envelope and very carefully took out the tickets. Now I held in my hands tickets to Fenway Park. Finally I was going to Fenway Park to see the Red Sox beat the Yankees. Joy over came me and for a few moments I was happier then I had been in years. Then reality hit me and I started wondering what was going to get in my way of going on a life time dream.
My life had never gone as planned or as I had dreamed it would turn out it seemed that disappointment was just around the corner waiting for me. I came into this world just 13 months behind my brother. An unplanned pregnancy, too early for one parent and the other just did not want me at all. The abuse started very young by the age of 2 not only was I being physically abused but I was also being sexually abused. It was spring of 1971 when my grandmother found me head to toe with bruises. As she rocked me in her rocking chair she promised me it would not happen again. That promise held true for three years. The next three years where the happiest years of my life. I spent it in a foster home with loving wonderful foster parents, Arthur and Thema Owens. After 2 years of my mother not seeing me they positioned the courts to adopt me. My mother did not want me but my father did so to spite him she took me back.
In the summer of 1974 my life was shattered I knew what I was going back to, how could I survive? What would I do? When I returned to my mother?s home it was made clear to me that I was not wanted there, I was not good and a waste of a life. Not only was I being tormented by my brother and sister but the physical and sexual abuse started again. I was so scared to do or say anything. I was told if I told the social workers anything I would be taking away again and put in a mean foster home and I would never have a family again. I wanted to be apart of a family more then anything, so kept my mouth shut, and most of the time I just cried myself to sleep.
Something magical happened at my Great-Grandparent?s house. Mom did not hit me or yell at me like she did at home. Gram and Gramp did not yell at me or hit me they even spent time with me like I was someone important. Two things Grandpa did a lot of it play cards and watch baseball. I played cards with him a lot too, but I loved to watch baseball. I could sit for hours and watch the Boston Red Sox play. I was Gramps baseball buddy none of the other grand kids would sit and watch the ball games with him like I would. I was nine maybe ten when baseball and the Red Sox taught me a very valuable survivals skill. I learned something so powerful that it helped me escape the emotional and physical pain of my abuse.
I learned to escape the pain by being somewhere else in my mind. Although I had never been there, I just loved to go to Fenway Park. I just knew someday I would get there in real life. Those were the dreams that kept me going I loved playing catch by myself. For hours I would throw a ball to a wall and catch it. Those were the times I treasured because I could be any one I wanted to be. I could be smart not stupid. I was pretty not ugly. I was loved by many even my mother. The pain of being a ?bad? and abused child washed away. I was no longer beat because I was bad, I was always good. But most of all I could play baseball even though I was a girl and I was rather good.
On those long nights that my mom would make us stand in the hallway until one would confess to doing something wrong were the worst. I hated standing there usually when it was me that did something wrong we did not even make to the hallway punishment I was busted right away. I just was never a good at lying to my mother she could always tell when I was lying. I hated standing in the hallway for what seemed endless at the time. So I went to many places but the place I visited the most was Fenway Park. There were many nights I thought I could not stand one more minute I would disappear to Fenway the pain in my legs was no longer there for standing in the hallway but there because it had been a long game and I was out in the field with my favorite player Carl Yastrzemski. Sometimes when my mom was not looking I would crouch down into catcher?s position because Carlton Fisk was teaching me how to catch. I would even get to catch for Dennis Eckersly. Sometimes those nights would not end until 2:00 am or later on a school night. Yes, I went to school the next day. But being at fenway seemed to make things a little brighter.
Most of the time I was just in the stands at Fenway Park watching the game. I loved to watch the ballgame weather it was on TV or in my head. There were those days that I had bruises or I hurt from being beat not only was I at the ball game but I would pretend I was hit with a ball while trying to make a catch in the stands. Oh! I still hurt but now I hurt because I was doing something fun not because I was ?bad? again. One time that stands out more then any other is July 4th 1978. I loved the Fourth of July, almost as much as the Red Sox, the parade, the picnic, the carnival and the fireworks what a great day. But this fourth was different. A nickel was missing from my mother?s dresser. I knew I did not take it, I thought I was safe. But I was wrong. My mother and her boyfriend came at me. It was one punch after another, when I tried to escape I just got thrown against the wall. I don?t know how long it lasted but when it finally did stop I hurt so bad I could hardly move. I got out of the way and hid in my room just in cause it was not over. When I knew it was safe I went into the bathroom. As I looked in the mirror bruises had already appeared on my face. My jaw hurt so bad I could barley open my mouth. As I looked at myself I thought of a story of what to tell everyone what happened. I was good at making up these stories of my beatings and nobody really ever questioned it. Sometimes I thought it was strange, these stories that were lies were coming from a kid that could not tell a lie with a straight face. I never truly understood why I could tell the stories so well and not any other kind of lie. The rest of the day went on as planned. I wanted to tell someone but I convinced myself that I was bad and I deserved it and in some way I felt I had to protect my mother but I was still not sure why. Once again I was convincing and my lie was believed. The picnic was no fun I could barley eat. Then off to the carnival, it was just not fun this year, something seemed wrong.
At night the blanket was spread out for us to sit on to watch the fireworks. As I sat on the ground waiting for my favorite part of the Fourth to start. I just could not focus, I wanted to cry but I knew better, I did not want any more trouble. I had to get out of here before the waterworks started. I stared at the sky as if I was waiting for the show to start then I slipped of to Fenway Park. It was a great night to be at the ball park. There was Yaz, Pudge, and the Eck with all the rest of Red Sox. Just in time the game had just stared. I waved to Captain Carl out in left field. On the mound was Dennis Eckersly and of course catching for him was Fisk. Easy one two three for Eck. Now it our turn to bat. The sky was exploding with color. I still stared at it I did not want any one to know I was not there. BOOM it was the crack of the bat. Yaz hit a long one and it was coming right to me. Not thinking I stood up on my chair reached my glove into the air as the ball got closer I jumped to catch it. Instead of landing back on my chair I landed sideways and hit my jaw on some seats. Then I took a turn and landed on the concrete hitting the other side of my jaw while I landed. Before I knew it there were people all around me and there was Yaz. He even rode in the ambulance with me. Soon the whole team was there with me at the hospital. By the time the fireworks ended that night the pain did not seem so bad, after all I caught a home run ball hit by Cary Yastrzemski himself.
In July of 1979 we move from Mass. To PHX, AZ. I did not get to watch as much ball. No major league team in Arizona at the time so the Red Sox were not on TV that much. I missed Yaz?s 3000hits and 400 home runs. I sure missed Grampa, Grandma, and the Red Sox. I did get to spend some summers with Grampa before he died in 1985 at age 86. (Maybe he was trying to tell me something. After all he died just 10 days short of his 87th birthday) those were great summers I was away from my mother and I had Gramp, Gram, and the Sox. Yaz retired other players moved on to other teams. Then Gramp died and baseball just did not seem the same. It was so hard to watch. It had been so good too me in the past years. Now it hurt so badly because the real pain was coming out. The players that seemed to always be there for me where gone or on other teams. Times were changing people were moving on and once again my life was changing.
High school years were hard but I seemed to find other thing that I could do. I joined track, cross country running and band. I was never really that good at any of them but I had the one thing many admired in me a no quit spirit. There were many days I would get picked on but I kept going. Band seemed to be the hardest I just could not seem to get the rhythm right a lot of the times which was not a good thing because I was a drummer. There were a couple of kids that would really give my a hard time and I almost quite several times because of it but then I would think what would Carl do? He would keep going and so did I. Besides keeping going at school and the things I likes was the easy part, going home and living though that mess was the hard part. So I could not quit at school I just had to keep going and maybe someday things would get better.
As time pasted baseball was no longer enough to make my pain go away, It was hard to watch at times because I missed Gramp. At times I missed the game, but I just had too much going on. It was no longer enough to escape to Fenway. I just wanted to escape life. High School was over and I married what I though to be my prince charming that he was not instead he was an abusive alcoholic. Not only did I have myself to worry about but soon after I married I had a daughter, Eileen and three and a half years later a son, Andy. It was so hard to keep us ?safe? at times. Through my children and a program called AWANA I discovered what the church, Jesus and God had to give me. After many prayers and 15 years of struggling through a very abusive marriage my husband left me for someone else. Even though life was a struggle raising two kids on my own I knew God would get me through it after all he freed me from many years of abuse.
Slowly baseball came back into my life. It did not hurt any more. Oh! Sometimes I wished Gramp was with me, but now I had two new people to watch the game with Eileen and Andy. In 2004 a move took us from Las Vegas NV to Pennsylvania. Now I started to watch the sox more and more. What a great summer to watch red sox baseball. The series against the Yankees was great. It seemed just like my life, just when I want to give up something happens and get me back going again. That fourth game I just knew it was over, I had already said, just wait until next year. But something so magical happened and they came back to win over the Yankees in what is now being called the greatest comeback ever in sports. Then it was off to the World Series. The world?s series just flew by and when that last out was made for the Red Sox to win the World Series, I did not jump up and down like I always thought I would. I just starred at the TV in disbelieve I had hope for years they would win, I think I was just in shock, something I had always dreamed about came true. But there was another dream I had for many years, to go to Fenway Park to see the Red Sox play in a game. In 1997 while visiting my foster family my foster sister took me to Fenway Park on a tour it was awesome but we were unable to see a game. So there and then, as I stared at the TV in disbelief I made it a top priority to see the Red sox in 2005 play in Fenway. I know I will probley never get my ultimate dream, meet the players and throw the first ball out in a game one dream I think many people have, But I was determined to get my dream that drove me for years to go to Fenway and watch the Red Sox beat the Yankees.
Then there I was, on that March day, as I held the tickets in my hand. I just could not believe I was really going. As it got closer to the day of the game April 14th I prepared myself just in case something went wrong. To my disbelief all went as planned except we got a little lost but we made it in time for the game. There I was it was a Thursday night third home opener game of the 2005 season at Fenway against the Yankee?s. Fenway Park was more then I ever could imagine dreamed of hope for. As I sat in the seat watching the game with Eileen and Andy I knew Grampa and Gram was there too. I felt honored to be there where all the greats of the 1970?s played. All the great players that helped pull me through a bad child hood. The game held so much excitement, it was so AWESOME! Yes dreams do come true. Not only did I get to Fenway but the Sox also beat the Yankees. I got to see all the greats of today. I even got to go to the next night?s game and the sox won that too. Thank you to all former and present day Red Sox players, managers, coaches and all those behind the scenes people that make baseball fun and help dreams come true. Even though you did not know it Thanks for helping me and all the abused kids like me by just being you!
One of my favorite Red Sox moments was going to Fenway and getting there early for batting practice and running into Howard Cosell in the stands. He was warm and funny and my brother did the best imitation of his voice. This was when Yaz was hot so I would have to say it was around ’82 or ’83? I have great memories of the “green Monster”. I now live in Minnesota (for the past 25 years) but I am still a Bosox fan at heart.
My name is Mary Fields I am 43 years old and this is my Red Sox story. My future is uncertain with my health financial and personal problems, I have lupus, fibrimailgia, PTSD, and a lump in both breasts so before this story is lost I want it told. This is a true story and I and to share it to give hope to others and to let people know the Boston Red sox are more then jus a team to me and always have been.
HAVE FAITH DREAMS DO COME TRUE
I been waiting for the mail one day in March of 2005. Something special was to arrive today. It seemed like I waited all day. Yet it was only about 1:00 pm when the mail finally arrived. I searched through all the mail, there it was, and I was holding one of my lifetime dreams in my hands. I slowly opened the envelope. I was a bit couscous I did not want to rip the tickets and I was still in disbelieve that this was really going to happen? I peeked inside the envelope and very carefully took out the tickets. Now I held in my hands tickets to Fenway Park. Finally I was going to Fenway Park to see the Red Sox beat the Yankees. Joy over came me and for a few moments I was happier then I had been in years. Then reality hit me and I started wondering what was going to get in my way of going on a life time dream.
My life had never gone as planned or as I had dreamed it would turn out it seemed that disappointment was just around the corner waiting for me. I came into this world just 13 months behind my brother. An unplanned pregnancy, too early for one parent and the other just did not want me at all. The abuse started very young by the age of 2 not only was I being physically abused but I was also being sexually abused. It was spring of 1971 when my grandmother found me head to toe with bruises. As she rocked me in her rocking chair she promised me it would not happen again. That promise held true for three years. The next three years where the happiest years of my life. I spent it in a foster home with loving wonderful foster parents, Arthur and Thema Owens. After 2 years of my mother not seeing me they positioned the courts to adopt me. My mother did not want me but my father did so to spite him she took me back.
In the summer of 1974 my life was shattered I knew what I was going back to, how could I survive? What would I do? When I returned to my mother?s home it was made clear to me that I was not wanted there, I was not good and a waste of a life. Not only was I being tormented by my brother and sister but the physical and sexual abuse started again. I was so scared to do or say anything. I was told if I told the social workers anything I would be taking away again and put in a mean foster home and I would never have a family again. I wanted to be apart of a family more then anything, so kept my mouth shut, and most of the time I just cried myself to sleep.
Something magical happened at my Great-Grandparent?s house. Mom did not hit me or yell at me like she did at home. Gram and Gramp did not yell at me or hit me they even spent time with me like I was someone important. Two things Grandpa did a lot of it play cards and watch baseball. I played cards with him a lot too, but I loved to watch baseball. I could sit for hours and watch the Boston Red Sox play. I was Gramps baseball buddy none of the other grand kids would sit and watch the ball games with him like I would. I was nine maybe ten when baseball and the Red Sox taught me a very valuable survivals skill. I learned something so powerful that it helped me escape the emotional and physical pain of my abuse.
I learned to escape the pain by being somewhere else in my mind. Although I had never been there, I just loved to go to Fenway Park. I just knew someday I would get there in real life. Those were the dreams that kept me going I loved playing catch by myself. For hours I would throw a ball to a wall and catch it. Those were the times I treasured because I could be any one I wanted to be. I could be smart not stupid. I was pretty not ugly. I was loved by many even my mother. The pain of being a ?bad? and abused child washed away. I was no longer beat because I was bad, I was always good. But most of all I could play baseball even though I was a girl and I was rather good.
On those long nights that my mom would make us stand in the hallway until one would confess to doing something wrong were the worst. I hated standing there usually when it was me that did something wrong we did not even make to the hallway punishment I was busted right away. I just was never a good at lying to my mother she could always tell when I was lying. I hated standing in the hallway for what seemed endless at the time. So I went to many places but the place I visited the most was Fenway Park. There were many nights I thought I could not stand one more minute I would disappear to Fenway the pain in my legs was no longer there for standing in the hallway but there because it had been a long game and I was out in the field with my favorite player Carl Yastrzemski. Sometimes when my mom was not looking I would crouch down into catcher?s position because Carlton Fisk was teaching me how to catch. I would even get to catch for Dennis Eckersly. Sometimes those nights would not end until 2:00 am or later on a school night. Yes, I went to school the next day. But being at fenway seemed to make things a little brighter.
Most of the time I was just in the stands at Fenway Park watching the game. I loved to watch the ballgame weather it was on TV or in my head. There were those days that I had bruises or I hurt from being beat not only was I at the ball game but I would pretend I was hit with a ball while trying to make a catch in the stands. Oh! I still hurt but now I hurt because I was doing something fun not because I was ?bad? again. One time that stands out more then any other is July 4th 1978. I loved the Fourth of July, almost as much as the Red Sox, the parade, the picnic, the carnival and the fireworks what a great day. But this fourth was different. A nickel was missing from my mother?s dresser. I knew I did not take it, I thought I was safe. But I was wrong. My mother and her boyfriend came at me. It was one punch after another, when I tried to escape I just got thrown against the wall. I don?t know how long it lasted but when it finally did stop I hurt so bad I could hardly move. I got out of the way and hid in my room just in cause it was not over. When I knew it was safe I went into the bathroom. As I looked in the mirror bruises had already appeared on my face. My jaw hurt so bad I could barley open my mouth. As I looked at myself I thought of a story of what to tell everyone what happened. I was good at making up these stories of my beatings and nobody really ever questioned it. Sometimes I thought it was strange, these stories that were lies were coming from a kid that could not tell a lie with a straight face. I never truly understood why I could tell the stories so well and not any other kind of lie. The rest of the day went on as planned. I wanted to tell someone but I convinced myself that I was bad and I deserved it and in some way I felt I had to protect my mother but I was still not sure why. Once again I was convincing and my lie was believed. The picnic was no fun I could barley eat. Then off to the carnival, it was just not fun this year, something seemed wrong.
At night the blanket was spread out for us to sit on to watch the fireworks. As I sat on the ground waiting for my favorite part of the Fourth to start. I just could not focus, I wanted to cry but I knew better, I did not want any more trouble. I had to get out of here before the waterworks started. I stared at the sky as if I was waiting for the show to start then I slipped of to Fenway Park. It was a great night to be at the ball park. There was Yaz, Pudge, and the Eck with all the rest of Red Sox. Just in time the game had just stared. I waved to Captain Carl out in left field. On the mound was Dennis Eckersly and of course catching for him was Fisk. Easy one two three for Eck. Now it our turn to bat. The sky was exploding with color. I still stared at it I did not want any one to know I was not there. BOOM it was the crack of the bat. Yaz hit a long one and it was coming right to me. Not thinking I stood up on my chair reached my glove into the air as the ball got closer I jumped to catch it. Instead of landing back on my chair I landed sideways and hit my jaw on some seats. Then I took a turn and landed on the concrete hitting the other side of my jaw while I landed. Before I knew it there were people all around me and there was Yaz. He even rode in the ambulance with me. Soon the whole team was there with me at the hospital. By the time the fireworks ended that night the pain did not seem so bad, after all I caught a home run ball hit by Cary Yastrzemski himself.
In July of 1979 we move from Mass. To PHX, AZ. I did not get to watch as much ball. No major league team in Arizona at the time so the Red Sox were not on TV that much. I missed Yaz?s 3000hits and 400 home runs. I sure missed Grampa, Grandma, and the Red Sox. I did get to spend some summers with Grampa before he died in 1985 at age 86. (Maybe he was trying to tell me something. After all he died just 10 days short of his 87th birthday) those were great summers I was away from my mother and I had Gramp, Gram, and the Sox. Yaz retired other players moved on to other teams. Then Gramp died and baseball just did not seem the same. It was so hard to watch. It had been so good too me in the past years. Now it hurt so badly because the real pain was coming out. The players that seemed to always be there for me where gone or on other teams. Times were changing people were moving on and once again my life was changing.
High school years were hard but I seemed to find other thing that I could do. I joined track, cross country running and band. I was never really that good at any of them but I had the one thing many admired in me a no quit spirit. There were many days I would get picked on but I kept going. Band seemed to be the hardest I just could not seem to get the rhythm right a lot of the times which was not a good thing because I was a drummer. There were a couple of kids that would really give my a hard time and I almost quite several times because of it but then I would think what would Carl do? He would keep going and so did I. Besides keeping going at school and the things I likes was the easy part, going home and living though that mess was the hard part. So I could not quit at school I just had to keep going and maybe someday things would get better.
As time pasted baseball was no longer enough to make my pain go away, It was hard to watch at times because I missed Gramp. At times I missed the game, but I just had too much going on. It was no longer enough to escape to Fenway. I just wanted to escape life. High School was over and I married what I though to be my prince charming that he was not instead he was an abusive alcoholic. Not only did I have myself to worry about but soon after I married I had a daughter, Eileen and three and a half years later a son, Andy. It was so hard to keep us ?safe? at times. Through my children and a program called AWANA I discovered what the church, Jesus and God had to give me. After many prayers and 15 years of struggling through a very abusive marriage my husband left me for someone else. Even though life was a struggle raising two kids on my own I knew God would get me through it after all he freed me from many years of abuse.
Slowly baseball came back into my life. It did not hurt any more. Oh! Sometimes I wished Gramp was with me, but now I had two new people to watch the game with Eileen and Andy. In 2004 a move took us from Las Vegas NV to Pennsylvania. Now I started to watch the sox more and more. What a great summer to watch red sox baseball. The series against the Yankees was great. It seemed just like my life, just when I want to give up something happens and get me back going again. That fourth game I just knew it was over, I had already said, just wait until next year. But something so magical happened and they came back to win over the Yankees in what is now being called the greatest comeback ever in sports. Then it was off to the World Series. The world?s series just flew by and when that last out was made for the Red Sox to win the World Series, I did not jump up and down like I always thought I would. I just starred at the TV in disbelieve I had hope for years they would win, I think I was just in shock, something I had always dreamed about came true. But there was another dream I had for many years, to go to Fenway Park to see the Red Sox play in a game. In 1997 while visiting my foster family my foster sister took me to Fenway Park on a tour it was awesome but we were unable to see a game. So there and then, as I stared at the TV in disbelief I made it a top priority to see the Red sox in 2005 play in Fenway. I know I will probley never get my ultimate dream, meet the players and throw the first ball out in a game one dream I think many people have, But I was determined to get my dream that drove me for years to go to Fenway and watch the Red Sox beat the Yankees.
Then there I was, on that March day, as I held the tickets in my hand. I just could not believe I was really going. As it got closer to the day of the game April 14th I prepared myself just in case something went wrong. To my disbelief all went as planned except we got a little lost but we made it in time for the game. There I was it was a Thursday night third home opener game of the 2005 season at Fenway against the Yankee?s. Fenway Park was more then I ever could imagine dreamed of hope for. As I sat in the seat watching the game with Eileen and Andy I knew Grampa and Gram was there too. I felt honored to be there where all the greats of the 1970?s played. All the great players that helped pull me through a bad child hood. The game held so much excitement, it was so AWESOME! Yes dreams do come true. Not only did I get to Fenway but the Sox also beat the Yankees. I got to see all the greats of today. I even got to go to the next night?s game and the sox won that too. Thank you to all former and present day Red Sox players, managers, coaches and all those behind the scenes people that make baseball fun and help dreams come true. Even though you did not know it Thanks for helping me and all the abused kids like me by just being you!
My family and I have been loyal, dedicated Red Sox fans for a long time. Our grandfather, George “Snook” Hungerford from Woodbury, CT was a loyal Red Sox fan. He past away in 1997 and never got to see them win the World Series again in 2004 and 2007. However, we thought of him when the Red Sox won the 2007 ALCS Championship on Oct. 21st. That was his birthday and he would of been 80 years old on that day. We will never forget that day.
My oldest daughter, Angelina was born in the year 2004 when the Red Sox won that series and my second daughter, Olivia was born in the year 2007 when they won that series. When I was pregnant with my son in 2008, I really thought they would win that World Series, but that’s okay, there is always next year. We still “BELIEVE”!
Someday, I would like to go to Fenway and watch a game. I’m 32 and I’ve never been to Fenway yet! Hopefully, I’ll be able to visit there soon.
Loyal Red Sox fan.
Jaime (Young) Bernardi
My Red Sox story spans 3 generations. I grew up in the South Shore with a Red Sox Fanatic Dad during the 60’s and the Carl Yastremski era. He sat on his Archie Bunker recliner and bit his nails to the quick screaming, “You Red Flops!”. I was a child but I knew these Red Sox must really mean quite something for my Irish Fire Captain Dad to get him so riled up. Of course I grew up loving our heart breaking Sox thru all of you know what. I moved to California and was sooooo ridiculed for my Red Sox Fanatisism. My son, Jake was a California boy thru and thru. All of his buds were Oakland A’s or San Francisco Giant fans and could not understand why he wore my dad’s Red Sox hat and would only cheer for “our” Sox. My Dad died in 1985. My Jake was born in 1988. He must have inherited the Red Sox Blood. Well, Jake and I got to see the mightly Sox rise and he got to laugh at all of his California friends, and I know that in Heaven my Dad was no longer biting his nails to the quick and the “Red Flops” were finally our Red Sox Nation. Jake, well, he’s a Dolphin’s football fan (his Dad) and I can’t change that but for as long as my Jake is alive, he is a California part of the Red Sox Nation. Louise Merrick