Why I Hate the Red Sox
October 21st, 2008 at 09:56pmThe title of this post is misleading. I don’t really hate the Red Sox. At least, not in the same way that I hate that other AL East team. With the Yankees, it’s easy to hate just about everything: the players are old, pricy, underachieving prima donnas; ownership is outspoken, nepotistic, and incompetent; management destroyed a farm system through reckless free agent signings; and a significant chunk of the fans act like entitled jackasses. Not to mention the annoying non-stop coverage by the national and local media, and the pretentious sense of history and accomplishment that the Yankees organization shoves down people’s throats (as evidenced during this year’s All-Star Game and at the closing ceremony of Yankee Stadium). All of these things make hating the Yankees easy; it’s something every non-Yankees fan does, and it’s the natural order.
The Red Sox, at least for me, are more complicated. I like most of the players and coaches on the Red Sox, especially now that Manny’s gone. Curt Schilling has his own video game company, and listens to many of the video game podcasts that I listen to. Dustin Pedroia and Kevin Youkilis are good, young, home-grown players that are fun to watch. Same with Jon Lester, except with the incredible side-story of beating cancer and coming back to throw a no-hitter. David Ortiz is probably the funniest and most gregarious player in baseball, and all of the stories about him indicate that he’s a genuinely good person. Terry Francona is a smart, eloquent, and level-headed man, and perhaps the best manager in baseball.
I have a great deal of respect for the ownership of the Red Sox, a group that managed to revitalize Fenway Park and install a top-notch baseball operations staff headed by Theo Epstein. The principal owner, John Henry, is a long-time diehard baseball fan and a student of sabermetrics (it’s little wonder then that he tried to lure Billy Beane from the A’s after taking over the Red Sox). Unlike the Yankees, the ownership and management of the Red Sox understood that establishing a stellar farm system was the key to the team’s prolonged success, and their work has paid incredible dividends during the past couple of years.
Even long-time Red Sox fans are generally likable people. Sure, the large amount of obnoxious townies provide a pretty good reason to hate the Red Sox. But every city has its particular group of dumb, annoying fans. The baseball-savvy Red Sox fans are just like hardcore baseball fans in any other city. People who understand the simple elegance of the game. People who understand the cruel paradox of following a team through the ups and downs of a grueling, six-month, 162-game season only to see one’s championship hopes evaporate in the blink of an eye in the postseason. People that remember the life-long, generation-spanning torture of the 86-year championship drought. And these are the people that I felt genuinely ecstatic for after the 2004 championship, because they deserved it.
With all of these feel-good things about the Red Sox, you’d think it would be easy for me to root for them, or at least be indifferent about their success. This might have been true when I moved to Boston for college in 2002. Now, I constantly root for the Red Sox to fail. I was so ecstatic after their loss to the Rays in the ALCS this year that I almost felt like the A’s, my own team, were going to the World Series. This feeling felt right, but I couldn’t justify it to myself in coherent terms. However, after thinking about it for a couple of days, I feel like I now have a decent answer. Read the rest of this entry »

