texts: Because I can't bear to watch. When they lose, I die inside. It's like some little person named Steve just crumples up and dies. I wait for the scores. I still die, hearing the scores, but it's over in a second. I can't survive the game pitch by pitch, inning by inning. I've done it too many times. And I can't do it anymore.
labels: I was six years old the day Pesky hesitated throwing home and Slaughter scored all the way from first. That's when I knew the Red Sox were my team. Pity and terror.