On Obsessions

So I've recently picked up a book that I'm rather enjoying. And mind you it's not a book I have to read for any class or application to any master's program -- I'm reading it for fun. Anyway, more of you are probably familiar with the movie, but I assure you the movie pales in comparison. Not that the book is fantastic, but the movie was terrible.

I haven't done as many film reviews as I wanted to in this space. And I won't review this movie. I will only say that it bastardized a very special moment in my life -- that the third thing I saw when the ineffable happened was two hollywoodland lunatics celebrating with my team. It still invokes ire from me so I'll stop here. And I'm not mentioning the title, figure it out yourself.

Well, the book is much more my cup o' tea. It's about a man's obsession with a English soccer team (Arsenal if you're interested). It's funny. It captures exactly what it's like to be an obsessive sports fan. Wait -- you didn't know I was an obsessive? Well let me share some evidence that will greatly alter your opinion of me.

During the '04 MLB playoffs, I was heart broken. Crushed after the 19-8 drubbing that Saturday night (incidently, what lifted my spirits was Damien Rice on Austin City Limits, an artist I now have this inextricable bond with because of what followed). Co-workers tried to console me but they knew better. The next game, they won. In the most dramatic fashion imaginable. But in that 9th inning, I decided that if the Sox were going to lose, I'd at least want to hear Jerry and Joe tell me, not idiot Joe Buck. So I put the game on the Internet and listened and I still have trouble believing it. I mean, everyone knew he was going to steal second, and he still did. Anyway they went on to win. For the next few nights, the game, while also on my tv, was also on my computer, a full 30 seconds behind (sorry, who has attention problems?). Also, I sat in the exact same spot on the couch. I wore the exact same clothes. So did the Mrs.. Funny thing, I didn't even ask her to, she just did out of her own passion for the Sox. You know what, they went on to win it all -- so don't you judge me.

For the Patriots, it's a much different story -- but perhaps it's more appropo right now considering yesterday dismantling in Foxboro (what a great game!). Since the 96-97 Superbowl season, I've refrained from wearing any Patriots gear during the regular season, though I've got plenty of it. The only time that year it happened was when my father (I'm taking money back for this mention) decided our superstitions were foolish and wore a Patriots jersey -- revealing it to us dramatically at half-time from underneath his shirt. We lost that game. Anyway, since then, I've carried on that superstition despite several bad seasons and despite losses. For the Sox, once they lose, I change my approach. For the Patriots, the games are a different animal I suppose my technique is also different. And as far as not wearing Patriots gear, it extends to burying shirts in drawers and hats in boxes -- I don't want to even see or touch any of it during the season. But I can talk about it -- again, something that doesn't work for the Red Sox.

There are more to these obsessions with Boston-area sports teams. But you get the idea.

My poor kid right?