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The Diary of a Fantasy Virgin – Week 7

To all football fans I apologize.  But since the World Series is over, one last mention must end this year’s folly.  Then next week its back to the Virgin articles…old school.  But in the meantime, since this is a diary, an entry must be made.  When you witness something like what has happened in the last 10 days, words actually do it no justice.  And all the words in my arsenal cannot describe what happened last night in New England at the end of a Lunar Eclipse.  It has taken 86 years to write this article.  86 years passed down from one Davoll to the next. 

Why Like The Red Sox?

I still don’t know why I liked the Red Sox so much as a youngster.  Every kid on my street loved the Yankees.  But growing up in Eastern Connecticut meant one thing.  We were closer to Boston than New York City.   So maybe it geographically appealed to me.  I remember also listening to Red Sox games on the radio with Curt Gowdy underneath a Mighty Oak tree when I was really young.  Why didn’t that radio get in another team? It could have been my Uncle who took me to 3 or 4 Red Sox games that won me over.  Those moments and the emergence of Wade Boggs into a very talented hitter most definitely won me over.  This was then followed by becoming best friends with a Red Sox season ticket holder…7 rows behind home plate.  We can be seen in Game 6 of the 1986 ALCS in a blowout win over California.  Or maybe it’s the human spirit of loyalty that we get conditioned to a certain team and we stick with them through thick and thin.  I didn’t care that the Red Sox didn’t win a World Series.  They were my team.  Much can be learned by this my friends, for eventually, there will be remuneration.  Even the Tampa Bay Devil Rays can win the Stanley Cup…and the Red Sox can win the World Series.     

The Boston Red Sox vs. The St. Louis Cardinals

Much like the Finland to the United States hockey team after a monumental win over Russia, St. Louis was outplayed and next to fall in this baseball passion play.  Now, all is forgiven.  All curses have been laid to rest and a media story that seemed all too real when combined with game 7 losses in 1946, 1967, 1975, and 1986 wilted away.  An 86 year burden has been lifted and we are witnesses to its destiny.  New England has a very far and reaching Red Sox fan base.  Now that New York team may have ½ of Connecticut, but the rest of New England belongs to the Sox.  Red Sox nation is nothing more than the result of a very poor 20 years of economic results in New England forcing its inhabitants to flee to other environs.  But the old inhabitants of this puritanical based culture never took their eye off of their Red Sox.  Now, with satellite packages, everyone in the country can follow any of their old teams with zeal and zest.  Information has tied us together and it appears that from sea to shining sea the smiles and glee has made us better.  This means that they will probably cart these gentlemen out for 25th/50th/60th reunions of the team that captured New England’s hearts on an Old Timer’s day.  That snap you heard was the brace holding up the monument to that curse.  It now lies asunder exposed by the light of a dawn that is entirely different than those that came before.  And we are the stewards of this time and we can pass on to the next generation the story of this journey and smile in disbelief.      

Football? Really What Football?

Football is occurring; I can sense it and The New England Patriots are still undefeated.  That is not the story this year so far.  Please see the first ½ of the article if you are confused as to what is happening in New England.  Still then we play the games…so shall we?  Well week seven is an odd number so what does that mean?  Yes it means a loss and I seem to be nonplused about the whole thing.  But we will try to get it back with some pickups and some trades.  So what did the Captain do this last week?  He still was not paying attention.

Captain’s Log – 10-25-2004 – 11:00 PM

I heard the rattling of the door and Artemis was tryin’ to enter me cabin.  I was drinkin’ the finest rum from the Lesser Antilles and musing over the next update from the Sports Radio Free Pigeon Courier.  Artemis was screaming for me but I was not payin’ him no mind.  I still was gettin’ me scores from my Sox d’ Rouge via Sports Radio Free Pigeon Courier.  At that moment a thunderbolt hit the ship and cracked the early evening sky.  Our obstacle was an electrical storm that was tryin’ to interfere with me communications connections.  And when the last pigeon brought the last out and delivered the news, I wept like a little baby.  Not very manly of course to be probably the only cryin’ Captain blubbering in the Antilles but in anticipation of this moment, I locked Arty out with the crew and endured a bit of solitude.  So as the crew ran amok and I wept, the Demolition listed through the waters falling further behind the others on this journey.  I knew we needed a change and one more mishap would bring the boatswain closer.  Me spirits were lifting for the opportunity to get out of this stuffy cabin.  For the future was here on the ship with me solace and comfort.  Lets see if we have a second half run in us.

Master D.

Tim can now be reached at and welcomes your opinions on the Diary of a Fantasy Virgin Articles.



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