Damn it feels good to be a Sox Fan

By Enrico Giamondi

MUSKEGET, MASS. -- I came in to work the day after the sox beat the Yankees so overjoyed that I forgot I was supposed to be interviewed by a news crew. I showed up in jeans, my Sox T-shirt, my Sox cap and my lucky UMass baseball jersey. Oops. Everyone asked if I was happy. Happy? Are you shittin' me, cuz? All I could say was, "The whole world has changed."

Remember watching those sledgehammers hit the Berlin wall? That is what it felt like to watch each run that Johnny Damon added to his RBI column. I felt like an age of good has just come over the world. I felt like a caveman who watched the Ice Age end in four hours. The sun has shone brighter. Enzyte actually works. Mikey didn't really die from eating Pop Rocks and drinking Coca-Cola. The Supreme Court didn't really hand Bush the election based on complete bullshit. Godzilla came and ate Katherine Harris and Glenda Hood and Theresa LePore.

The Yankees may have 500 world series victories or whatever those douchebags have, but not a single one of their pennant victories will match up with this. The two longest games in post-season history. The only team to ever come back from 3-0. One of those three was the second worst loss in post-season history. The Sox took it from them in their house. Red Sox fans were running laps on the field in the house that Ruth built. We sowed the fields with salt that night. This is the payoff for so many decades of heartache. Damn it feels good to be a gangsta!
Do I want a series win? Yeah. I really do. But am I proud as all hell to be a Red Sox fan? Yah brotha. I'm wicked proud. The tea has been thrown into the harbor. The shot heard round the world. Oh brotha.

Damn it feels good to be a Sox fan.