As my four-year college career heads unfortunately toward its end, I can’t help but think about how things have come full circle. I still love grilled cheese; I still attend Elie Wiesel’s lectures and now, again, I have to watch Red Sox Nation turn into a bunch of hooligans and contemptible heathens.
During my freshman year in 2004, I had to walk ever so carefully through shattered glass, ripped-up newspapers and rolls of police caution tape. The windows of the Citizens Bank in Kenmore Square were destroyed, the Pizzeria Uno maimed. The thousands upon thousands of morons who went out there spurred police to fire rubber bullets, and an Emerson College student was killed in the mayhem.
Sunday night, the not-so-beautiful sounds of shouting, sirens and helicopters distracted all those trying to recover from midterms. Thankfully no one was killed this year as the same generation of idiots streamed down to Fenway Park and then had the audacity to complain about the police presence and say it inhibited the celebration.
It’s enough already, and frankly, it’s the most disgusting display of fandom I’ve ever seen — and I’m not a Yankees fan!
I’m not even a New Yorker. I was born in Ohio!
Red Sox Nation should pride itself in a team that has handily erased any hindrance of the Curse of the Bambino. Twice the Sox have come back from seemingly insurmountable deficits and twice they’ve rescued and redeemed the hearts of every fan who cringes upon hearing the name Bill Buckner.
But instead of fireworks there has been tear gas, and instead of parades there have been police escorts and 37 people arrested.
Is this what winning is all about?
Juxtaposed with the images of flowing champagne and fervent celebrations in the Red Sox locker room was a nightmare scene at home: plexiglas shields, shinpads and wooden clubs.
Boston, you’re looking like a chaotic, lawless city of hedonism — hardly the image of your Puritan ancestors. Thanks to you, they’re probably turning in their graves.
And then I saw another thing. The Daily Free Press reported that as part of the “celebration” on Brookline Avenue, “fans” set Yankees apparel on fire. Set it on fire – as if these were uniforms of a fascist military enemy!
On TV, all I could hear were “Yankees Suck” chants and violent calls for the fall of the Yankees Empire.
As far as I know, the Yankees had no part in the World Series. They actually played no part in the American League Championship Series. I don’t recall them even facing the Red Sox in the playoffs this year.
And it didn’t start there. In 2004, after the Red Sox beat St. Louis in the World Series, police arrested people for tipping cars with New York license plates.
At a Dave Matthews Band concert at Fenway Park last year, the crowd shouted “Yankees Suck” in between songs. It’s bad enough DMB doesn’t play baseball, but why not invigorate the scene with a proactive ”Let’s go Red Sox” cheer?
And finally, just last week, I walked down Beacon Street and saw a woman in a Red Sox shirt with her two dogs also wearing Red Sox apparel. I jokingly said to her, “Yankees fans, huh?”
Her response? ”I’d rather put them down than dress them in Yankees stuff.”
Maybe the Sox should be called the Boston Yankees Suck, because honestly, it seems more people hate New York than they love Boston.
What a culture.
It’s funny, when the Yankees beat the Sox in 2003, I never heard of any reports of riots or setting cars with Massachusetts plates on fire. Aaron Boone hit that home run, the city celebrated and then it was back to work the next day.
And during those title runs in 1996, 1998, 1999 and 2000? Those classy New Yorkers refrained from selling vulgar anti-Boston apparel or chanting “Red Sox suck” at any of those four tickertape parades.
South Florida played on the beach in 2003. Chicago partied it up safely in 2005 and St. Louis brought out those snazzy Budweiser Clydesdales to lead a victory march.
I’ve really always been wary of you, Red Sox Nation. For 86 years, you endlessly complained, moaned, cried and wailed about Boston’s ineptitude and starvation for a championship. Like a poor middle child, you craved attention and empathy.
Meanwhile, you ignorantly turned a blind eye to the marvelous Bruins of the ’60s and ’70s, the magnificent Celtics of the ’80s and the more recent Patriots dynasty. For some reason, Bucky Dent seemed so much more important than Cam Neely, Robert Parrish, Larry Bird and Tom — Brady, is it?
You call the Yankees the Evil Empire when now the Red Sox have the second highest payroll in the league at $143 million, with the gap ever closing.
You boast of Manny’s brilliance and such a high-powered offense and I can only imagine that you’re thinking Colorado would be nothing without that high altitude. Lest you forget that your beloved Sahx play in a sandbox of a ballpark in which J.D. Drew is all of a sudden your homeboy.
Listen up, Boston, and listen good: Stop destroying your city and reputation. You resemble a culture of hate, not a fanbase of support.