Bringing the Heat: The Boston Red Sox

Even though he broke my heart, broke my crock pot, and eventually left me for a woman who wears slouch socks, my last boyfriend gave me something that I’ll cherish forever: bitterness. Bitterness and the opportunity to see my beloved Red Sox win the 2004 World Series.

On the night that the Sox beat the Yankees in the ALCS, completing their historic comeback and putting them in the Fall Classic for the first time since watching new episodes of 227 and Amen made for a sweet Saturday night, we had the following conversation:

Him: So tonight was pretty important?
Me: Hells yeah! The Sox won the ALCS!
Him: Isn’t that what Lou Gehrig had?
Me: No, that was Lou Gehrig’s disease.
Him: Nevermind.

(Ok, so I don’t think I really said “Hells yeah” but my actual comment was most likely littered with profanity and there’s a good chance that I repeatedly called him ‘Dude’, but the rest of it actually happened.)

BUT the important part was when he said that he was going to give me my Christmas gift early–in the form of World Series tickets–because he knew that seeing the Sox win would be the happiest day of my life. And then he paused and waited for me to disagree with him.

I still have no idea how he snagged the tickets, but on October 27, 2004 I was in Busch Stadium, wearing my “UnFoulke-in’ Believeable” shirt and UGG boots (Don’t you dare judge me…) watching as the players celebrated their sweep and realizing that they did it, holy shit, they did it! The Sox won!

My smile only got bigger when I realized that those effing ‘curse’ comments Sox fans had endured for years were now rendered meaningless. And “1918” had finally been stripped of any importance. I mean, other than that whole “end of World War I” thing, but Yankees fans rarely punctuated any games with chants of “Kaiser Wilhelm Sucks!”.

Tears fell on my UGGs when the scoreboard flashed “Congratulations Boston Red Sox” and as I felt the limitless joy of finally–FINALLY!–having my faith rewarded, I realized that he was right. It was the happiest day of my life.

Now about those hotties…

I considered just putting a picture of the 2004 team, because there’s no way that could be any sexier. Unless maybe former relief pitcher Mike Myers was replaced with Hugh Laurie.

But have you seen the 2007 Sox? They are so smokin’, they cannot be sold to anyone under 18. They may cause birth defects. They make RJ Reynolds blush.

Josh Beckett, Pitcher

Clay Buchholz, Pitcher

Image credit: Kelly O’Connor, sittingstill.net

Jon Lester, Pitcher

Jonathan Papelbon, Flamethrower

Image credit: Kelly O’Connor, sittingstill.net

Doug Mirabelli, Novelty Catcher

Jason Varitek, Captain

Coco Crisp, Webgem

Dustin Pedroia, (I’d Like to Get to) Second Base (With Him)

Image credit: Kelly O’Connor, sittingstill.net

David Ortiz, Designated Papi

And finally, finally, sweet Baby Jesus, finally…

Jacoby Ellsbury

Image credit: Kelly O’Connor, sittingstill.net

And what does it say about me that when I look at this picture…

All I can think about is this…

Note: This is an artist’s interpretation (read: my own dirty little thought) and does not represent any time that Jacoby Ellsbury actually spent wrapped up in my sheets. Although I sure as hell wouldn’t kick him out for eating Cakesters in my bed, if you know what I’m saying. Actually, I wouldn’t kick him out if he was eating a human baby.

You’re welcome.