While looking at my previous blog post, which was about the new baseball season, I remembered that there’s a lot more I can talk about when it comes to the Red Sox more specifically. So here’s that.
I was always a huge fan of the Red Sox. I liked David Ortiz, Manny Ramirez, Dustin Pedroia, Curt Schilling, and players like that. I remember wearing a Pedroia jersey to school one day. I can’t remember his name, but there was a left-handed, curveball pitcher who I liked too. I remember the dinky TV in my old bedroom that I would watch Red Sox games on, and I remember the framed poster I had hanging up on the wall of their 2004 World Series win, with ticket stubs from the games I had gone to. I remember when Daisuke Matsuzaka was signed to the Red Sox, and that was a massive event at the time. I remember when we won the World Series in 2007, and I remember arguing in Facebook comments afterwards about the use of the word “we” when discussing a sports team as a fan. It was a petty and meaningless argument.
When I was in 6th grade, I remember playing my one season of little league baseball. It wasn’t t-ball; this was the big leagues, figuratively and metaphorically. I remember playing under the “DiMartino Home Improvement” team, which my dad sponsored for the year. Unfortunately, it was the first and last year we sponsored a team, and we didn’t make it through the first round of the playoffs anyway. It was a pretty miserable season, to say the least. I only looked forward to the hot dogs we would get from the stand after our games were over. I played in the outfield, usually left outfield, and my throwing hand sucked so I never made it from the outfield to home base with my throws. I made a valiant effort, though.