I grew up in Boston and cut my teeth on the Celtics, Bruins, Pats and Sox but left in the late 80's for college and have never managed to return except for visits. Boston sports has become part of my core, my nostalgia and my anchor as I've moved around the world. And as much as I pull for the first 3, the Sox will always be the epicentre of that core - Boston has been a baseball town for well over 100 years despite 17 Celtics championships (and the only ones I was old enough to experience growing up), despite the miraculous transformation of the Patriots from the Patsies to the only dynasty of the free agent / salary cap era and despite the deep love of hockey that runs through the region that no one outside of Canada and Minnesota will ever understand (in North America at least - my Russian, Finnish and Swedish friends would argue that last point with a passion). The Red Sox are Boston - the heart and soul and every kid in the region's first love. You never forget your first love and for me it was the 77 and 78 teams of Lynn, Rice, Fisk, Dewey, Eck, Remy, Burleson, Scott, Stanley and Hobson. Bucky Dent was my first heartbreak which was finally going to be made right by Clemens, Hurst and Hendu... until it wasn't. In the mid-90's I was half-scared that they'd win it when I was unable to watch while deployed on a submarine under the Pacific - but that proved to be as unfounded a fear as any - Mo and Roger weren't enough to mount a serious threat.
The emergence of Nomar and arrival of Pedro changed things however and that Cleveland Series in 99 rekindled the dream that had flickered out 13 years before - but Jeter would get the calls in the ALDS and the penance of being a Sox fan, a Bostonian, continued.
I watched the Tuck Game from a off-season resort in Georgia and Super Bowl XXXVI from a random bar in the Bahamas and neither seemed real to me. I was thrilled to death of course but as soon as the game ended my thoughts went to Spring Training and whether Lowe could make it as a starter. Those Pats were a wonder but what Pedro had been doing those past 2 years was far more important. Signing Johnny Damon just before Christmas was a much bigger headline than the Pats clinching a playoff berth.
The indignity of the 2003 ALCS (Grady Little was the last Sox manager I hated - BV was amused contempt but Little and MacNamara were hatred) followed by the off-season loss of A-Rod when it seemed like we were getting the final piece we needed (Pedro and Schilling starting with Manny, Nomar, A-Rod and that new 1B/DH lefty was going to be unbeatable) was another gut shot.
But Papi took us away from that all. When it looked like yet another wasted season and the indignity of a MFY sweep he turned things around. From that point on it was Papi's team and the success he brought was unprecedented. He transformed the culture of the team that defined the culture of a community and did so in a way that made you feel like a kid again. Just think - he was called by Henry 'the greatest clutch hitter in Red Sox history' in 2005 - before winning a 2nd Championship in 07 and before taking the team and city on his back in 13. For the past 13 years he has been the heart and soul of the team that is the cultural centre of Boston. Brady is a phenomenal talent but Papi is something greater.