It’s 6:47 AM in Los Angeles, and I’m already awake. I’m also already crying, thanks to the video the Red Sox posted today:
October starts now. #WinAdvanceRepeat pic.twitter.com/AFexTFsCIk
— Red Sox (@RedSox) October 5, 2017
This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten emotional about my team; it happens about once a day. In fact, it feels extremely fitting that this is how I’m starting my morning on the day of Game 1 of the ALDS.
I moved to Israel when I was twenty, in September of 2013. That’s right, 2013. I was separated from my team by oceans, a 12-hour plane ride, and a 7-hour time difference, but none of that stopped me from watching every single postseason game. Most of the games started around midnight in Tel Aviv, so I’d pull all-nighters and sleep through the day; for about a month, I became nocturnal for my team. The day we lost Game 1 of the ALCS, my best friend came home from class to find me crying, eating pita and hummus and watching the 2004 World Series DVD (my go-to on bad days); I was worried that by abandoning my team in this year when a win would mean so much, I’d doomed us all. I took my baseball so seriously that month, even though I was the only Red Sox fan around. And on October 30 (already October 31 in Israel), when Koji threw that final out, it was about 6:35 in the morning, and I screamed in my sunrise-filled room and then went to sob in the shower so I wouldn’t disturb my roommates. If you’ve never watched a baseball game at sunrise, I highly recommend it.
The first thing a lot of people asked me when I told them I was moving to California was, “But you’re a sportswriter and your team lives here in Boston.” Trust me, I know. It wasn’t an easy decision; I miss my team all day, every day. I miss being able to walk to Fenway. I miss the music, the sounds, the crowds of drunk people gathered together to root for the thing that unites us all, in the best city in this world. But if you think I can’t love them, root for them, follow them, cover them, from a measly 6 hours away, 3 hours behind, you don’t know me at all. When it comes to the Red Sox, absence has only made my heart grow fonder.
I love you, Red Sox. Let’s go.
