Daily Loaf

Last July, I typed for ages about a profound personal crisis: I was losing my identity as a sports fan. My beloved Boston Red Sox had become winners, and their pink-hat-wearing clan had become cocky. This made me uncomfortable, as I had known only pain as a fan before the Red Sox won the World Series in 2004. (Some of you may have been too busy crankily copy-editing to remember.*)

Back to the story: So I was lost last summer. Unsure of how to proceed. My Red Sox were on their way to a second championship, but success felt dirty somehow, like I was cheating on my manic-depressive childhood sweetheart with some chick on Xanax. I needed some down-on-their-luck, underpaid, hardscrabble ballplayers. Loveable-loser types. I needed the Rays.

I tried rooting for Tampa Bay, even went to Fenway and got shit-talked in the bleachers by an 8-year-old. It was a fun little experiment, but in the end I concluded that the Rays were too hapless. To wit:

“But 10 years into their existence, the Devil Rays still seem decades away from a title — or anything close to a decent following.” — Max Linsky, July 25, 2007

OK, so I was wrong. Dead wrong. The Rays have put together an (insert superlative here) season. Longoria, Pena, Kazmir, Maddon — these guys have been brilliant and loose, clutch and fun-as-sin to watch. But predicting decades of futility at the Trop was not the only thing I got wrong in that story last July. First off, I implied that Ron Paul would have trouble getting a bandwagon following. More importantly, I focused on my history of being a fan. I thought I needed to get back to my losing roots.

Turns out it was just growing pains, Osgood Schlatter for the sports fan. The Red Sox weren’t becoming winners. They were becoming villains.

And guess what: Villainy is fun as hell.

The Patriots? Clearly evil. The Celtics? Garnett’s no Belichick, but the Ubuntu squad had their haters on the way to this year’s NBA championship. And the Red Sox? They might as well be the Yankees to anyone off the bandwagon. We are hated. We are despised. We are rich and smug and, if David Tyree hadn’t made that fucking catch, we’d be the current champs in every major sport. O, the arrogance we could have rained down upon thee!

Still, I’ll take two out of three. And I’ll take three of the last five World Series, too. Because when the Rays open the ACLS tonight against the Sox, I will have no crisis of conscience. Your frugal squad represents all that is good in the world: overcoming odds, winning as a team, stupid mohawks. They’re a wonderful bunch, and I hope they get stomped.

Of course, I haven’t lost all of my Red Sox sensibilities. We may be evil and overpaid, but that doesn’t mean we’re not still chokers at heart. Prediction: Rays in 6.

*Sal, you remember that, right? The Yankees were up 3-0, remember? You guys were golden! Then Dave Roberts happened. And Papi. And bloody socks, and three straight opening-round losses, and then this year, well, at least A-Rod got it on with Madonna — that was kinda cool, I guess, in a puke-in-my-mouth-a-little kinda way!

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