One Little Victory

There was a time where I wasn't as ashamed to say this as I've been for the last few years, but it's still a fact nonetheless.

I'm a born and bred New Englander, which means I'm a guy who likes sports, especially when the hometown teams are winning.

The reason why it feels a little shaming to me is because a lot of the people I know aren't sports fans. They're young, sophisticated, educated people who spend their time immersed in pop culture, literature, music and other stuff.

Admitting I'm such a rabid follower of the Red Sox, or Patriots, or Celtics...or Bruins...gives me the impression of being an uneducated cro-magnon who just likes being part of the mob.

But my beloved Sox won another World Series last night. Their third in the last ten years. When I was a kid, I was like every other loyal fan who dared hope beyond hope that somehow, some way, THIS would be the year Boston did it. And every year, they came up short.

When they finally did it in 2004, I cried, like a lot of other people I know back home did. That may sound really silly to those not attuned to the world of sports, but for us Boston faithful it was the culmination of a lifetime of shared and passionate hope capped by unbelievably frustrating disappointment and heartbreak. But ultimately, our collective faith in a group of men we hardly know and will likely never meet, who represented us in the game we'd all played as kids on sandlots and Little League fields all over New England and across  the country was finally and gratifyingly rewarded.

And in that moment, we all knew what the sweet taste of victory finally felt like.

The crazy thing is that it's not just the Red Sox who've been to the top of the mountain either. Every major team with it's roots in my hometown has won at least once in the last 15 years. In the matter of proper context, that is truly unheard of for one city to be on such a hot streak. If it's not the Sox, it's the Patriots. Not the Pats then it's the Celtics or the Bruins. I have often said and will forever cling to the proposition that if the Boston College Eagles, whom I've followed since a little guy named Doug Flutie threw the mother of all Hail Mary's 30 years ago, should ever win a National College Football Championship, then I'm done.

I will issue my retirement papers and gladly walk away from ever being a sports fan again, because I will have achieved the equivalent of total nirvana.

But what I couldn't help but think about last night, while I listened to the celebration on the radio and pined for being back home in the thick of it (with the jovial, civilized people and not the idiot rioters), was wondering how it felt for the Sox themselves. The 25 guys who six months ago started this journey which culminated in being rewarded as the best. Knowing that all the hours of work put in, both on and off the field, the sacrifices which were made was worth it at the end, because no one can ever take away from you the fact that you were the last ones standing while everyone else tried like hell to take you down.

I can be a fan and live vicariously through my teams and feel like I somehow contributed to and earned the right to celebrate along with them, but I've never really known what that euphoria must feel like. To know, beyond any hesitation, that you've achieved and earned everything you've ever set out to do in this life.

I hoped that feeling would finally come three years ago when I finally earned my two college degrees, ten years later than I should've had to get it. I wanted it. My whole life I'd known I wanted it and I'd eventually figure out a way to get it. And for as great as it felt to finally have it in my hands and be able to proudly display them on my wall, the victory was both short-lived and painfully hollow because of what followed in its wake.

And as I sit  here and write this out tonight, I can't help but think about how I would feel if I could ever reach the point where I actually got everything I ever wanted. The thing is, I never wanted to be rich or famous. I just want to be happy with my life and I wanted someone special to be happy with. I still do...very much.

Just once, I would like to know what a victory like that would feel like. To have all the hopes and dreams I have for myself finally come together. I'd like to think that after the frustrating setbacks and painful heartbreaks I've gone through in this life, that's not a whole lot to ask.