You know, I guess it started that October day back in 1978. I can still remember so clearly rushing home after 5th grade from St. Pius Elementary. My plaid skirt flying, I was full on running by the time I hit the driveway, to catch The Game. It was a one game playoff between the Red Sox and the Yankees. Of course, it ended badly for the Sox, but nonetheless, I was hooked. The drama! The passion! There is no turning back, once you fully realize your innate calling as a super dedicated Boston sports fan. It comes with the territory, literally, of Massachusetts.
From there I moved on to the Celtics, where, with my father, I watched virtually every game of every season from 7th grade until the year I left for college. Sure, there are the funny stories. Like the day my grandmother kicked us out of her house during a raucous playoff game or the time my Dad broke the cable box after a tough loss. But the best thing of all is the gift of quality time that I spent with my Dad—all while I was a teenager no less! We are still close to this day as a result. It is our bond that will never break.
Admittedly I lost my way back in the 90’s, losing interest in Beantown sports as the distance in the rearview lengthened. But after a prolonged bout of homesickness, it kind of dawned on me. This is my connection, my natural path to my family, my roots and the very essence of my being. We all need that, the grounded, safe feeling of familiarity. By 2001, I was back in action, fully revved just in time to hit the floor kneeling, euphoric tears running down my face, exulting “The Patriots won the Super Bowl!” over and over as my confused friend just looked down at me wondering how someone could get this hysterical over a sporting event.
So I explained to her, in Massachusetts, amidst crowded towns and crappy weather and even crappier roadways, sports is the unifying force that ignites us all. It is a fierce loyalty toward a singular goal. Success. Do you live in a great sports town? Let’s hear it!
–Carla
