fear the beard

I love baseball, and I really love October. 162 games all lead up to a best of 5 series, which leads to a nail biting best of 7, which leads to the World Series...I can hardly handle the stress. I find myself yelling at the tv, heart racing and fists clenched. I love three teams: the Red Sox, the Giants, and whoever is playing the Yankees (I am currently a HUGE Texas Rangers fan).

our first Fenway date, 2007

My husband introduced me to Red Sox Nation--he took me to my first game at Fenway Park the summer we started dating. He paid entirely too much for seats about 40 rows deep in the right field bleachers. They lost to the Blue Jays, but never have I been to a more mesmerizing game. I drank a Sam Summer, ate a Fenway Frank, and donned a rally cap when we were still losing 4-2 in the bottom of the 8th. Fenway is like baseball heaven.

Derek has been a Red Sox fan since he was 5 years old...it was the 1986 World Series, when the Sox were playing the Mets. His uncle Brad got him from his room and told him to come watch the Sox win the World Series. Moments later, a ball trickled through Bill Buckner's legs. Game over. Series over. Mets win. That was the first inning--first PLAY of baseball little Derek had ever seen. He was born a Red Sox fan into great heartache. He made the profound decision as a 5 year old that the Red Sox did not have to win in order for him to love them.
He honestly cried when Keith Foulke underhand tossed the ball to 1st base, securing the final out of the 2004 World Series. He still gets goosebumps when we talk about it, or see replays on tv. He still gets nervous watching those replays, because he thinks he just might make an error, drop that ball, or throw it into the dugout. But no, they still win, every time.

I hope the Giants can pull this one out--its been one heck of a nerve wracking series. Honestly, I think my favorite part has been Brian Wilson's beard.