Unbelievable, Unfathomable, Unforgettable

. I haven't said much about the Red Sox out of fear of the jinx. At work the big joke has been my stinky sweatshirt which I have worn every night since game 4 of the Yankees Red Sox series. Tonight I came home and put on the sweatshirt and hunkered down for a night of baseball with my dogs. My husband was at work, which was good since he had been cheering for the Cardinals, just to get my goat (which has nothing to do with that OTHER curse of the Cubbies). I called my little brother in Florida, who was also home alone because his wife and kids were in Birmingham, Alabama with his in-laws. We spoke a few times during the course of the game, nervously joking about what chaos a victory tonight would bring about, not just at Fenway, but in the world, since the whole balance of the world depends on the Loser mystique of the Red Sox. We talked about my mom, who is gone now for nearly 4 years. When we were kids, we would load up into the hearse (the black Dodge Coronet station wagon) and head out to Fenway Park, starting in the cold early spring games, through the late September games, sitting in Section 29 on the left field line, and yell what we thought were obscenities to Jim Rice, and we were sure he could hear us. I remember the Sox of the 70's: Carlton Fisk, Carl Yastrzemski, Denny Doyle, Rick Burleson, Butch Hobson, Fred Lynn, Jim Rice, Dwight Evans, and pitchers like Luis Tiant, Bill Lee, Dennis Eckersly and more. It would all culminate in a 4th of July weekend or double-header with the Yankees. (Have I ever said that we were bred to HATE the Yankees?) In the cold of April's pouring rain, we endured defeats by Cleveland, 19-9 one time I remember. We were loyal though. There would be close games, where I remember the stress would get my mother wound up so tight she couldn't watch. Well...that was me tonight. In my sweatshirt, I had the hood on and pulled tight a la Kenny of South Park fame. I was pulling dogs tails and watching in disbelief as the Sox shut out the Cards! It's still unbelievable to me. In the 9th inning, bottom of the 9th to be exact, one out -- Ira called me on the phone and then got my dad on the phone. With the three of us on the line simultaneously, we watched history being made. The Rex Sox win! Anyhow, the sweatshirt is in the washer right now. It has done its job and now the rest of the world no longer needs to suffer. I'm sure there are Sox fans all over the world saying the same thing about their loved ones who have passed, but this win was for my mom. It would have driven her crazy, but she would have shared in the joy that we're feeling now. Mom, we did it!