[In one of my Red Sox books—available HERE (shameless plug)—I depicted a variety of archetypes for Red Sox fans, including “the ostrich” which I mention in this entry. The entry was featured as part of an anthology called “Red Sox and Philosophy” which itself was a part of a series of books crossing pop culture and philosophy. For my work, I received no money, but I got ten copies of the book. Jealous? Enjoy!]
Former UCLA head football coach Red Sanders, once said in referring to a contest against rival USC, “It’s not a matter of life and death; it’s more important than that.” Thus is the thinking of the typical Red Sox fan when pondering a meeting with the hated Yankees.
Depending on which language you are speaking, the term “typical Red Sox fan” has two totally different connotations. If you are speaking Yankee, it means “a fan who constantly whines about something he knows nothing about.”
Yet, if you use a Fenway dialect, the meaning is more positive – a typical Red Sox fan is the type of fan that is intelligent about not only the Red Sox, but other teams as well; practices exceptional ballpark etiquette like when to start the wave and when to let it die; is always fearful of the “other shoe” that can drop at anytime; and leaves no opportunity to berate the Yankees unfulfilled.
Looking closer, though, a clarification of part of the term is needed. “Typical” based on what, a comparison to other fans? Impossible, for Red Sox fans are nothing like other fans. Or are we referring to a representative sampling as matched up against other Red Sox fans? Well, even then it is a broad term and is tricky to explain.
If you look at the composition of a Red Sox fanatic’s brain, they are unique only to their own kind, yet in a uniform manner. The brain contains centers that shape the collective personality. In their case, they have overly pronounced emotional centers which make it ultrasensitive to the slightest divergence from the status quo – both positive and negative.
Take, for instance, the example of the radio talk show that speaks of the team’s recent win streak and the return of Dustin Pedroia to the team from witnessing the birth of his first child:
Radio talk show host: Beckett’s turned it up a notch, Youk is hitting .400 in August, Pedroia’s back . . .
Typical Red Sox fan: OH NO! What’s wrong with Pedroia’s back?! [he sticks his head in the oven]
Then there is the perception center which controls how an event is perceived. First of all, a Red Sox fan’s perception center is noticeable smaller than his emotional center. This presents a “confused” perception much of the time, which is the basis of the majority of issues they find themselves experiencing.
In essence, they possess more pinhole vision than other fans would. Look at it as you would a spectrum. Whereas, there are seven colors, a Red Sox fan only sees one – red.
Use this as a reference point when considering how a Red Sox fan reads the daily newspaper. (Or, for those of you who have never read a newspaper, let’s say “how a Red Sox fan views the Internet.”) When the headline reads:
“Snow Storm Paralyzes City for a Week,” the Red Sox fan sees “Papelbon Out for Season.”
“70% Chance of Rain for Fireworks Celebration on Hatch Shell,” the Red Sox fan sees, “Sox not given much of a chance versus Yankees.”
“Killer Swans Descend Upon Public Gardens; Mayor Issues Curfew,” the Red Sox fan sees, “Ortiz Leaves Eight Runners in Scoring Position; Manger Considers Benching Him.”
Yet even in these standard deviations, there are different variances in the actions taken revealing several subsets of the typical Red Sox lover.
For one, there are the pink hats. A Pink Hat believes that all games end with a reality dating show such as “Sox Appeal,” wonders why the crowd constantly boos Youk (they’re saying, “Yooooooouuuuuuk!”), and doesn’t necessarily wear those pink hats. However, whatever they do wear, it’s creaseless.
A more passionate breed, the Dirt Dog may be the most selfless, true-blue fans in all of Red Sox Nation. They will keep track of the outs for everyone around them – “Okay, two away! We need one more, people.” – they know the right chant and when to start it, they’ll wear the same clothing, right down to the skivvies, during a winning streak and burn their entire wardrobes during any losing streak exceeding three games, and they won’t let you celebrate before the late-night talk show hosts start having Red Sox on as guests.
I, myself, am of the Ostrich variety of Red Sox fan. My kind disappears during tense game moments. Do not let that fool you. We are among the most loyal of Red Sox fans. We’re doing it for the good of the team; for we believe good things won’t happen if we’re there to see it. Anecdotal evidence has proven this to be true in the three no-hitters Tim Wakefield has taken into the late innings that I’ve ruined by tuning in just in time to witness one of the next two batters get a hit.
Our motto is “it hasn’t happened if you don’t watch it happen.”
So though not all Red Sox fans are alike in every regard, there are generalities that indicate them as such. In a nutshell, a typical Red Sox fan sets every alarm in his house to 7:05 p.m., owns at least one shirt that says something bad about Derek Jeter, has a pet or family member named after a current or former player, can name every player on the roster, yet can’t remember his sister-in-law’s husband’s name, pulls a hamstring when one of the player’s does, and experiences anxiety, shortness of breath, the shakes, dry mouth, dry heaves, ringing in the ears, rabid heartbeat, palpitations, vomiting, blurred vision, uncontrollable sobbing, depression, euphoria, anger, love, vertigo, pride, dismay, ennui and, in rare cases, paralysis, all during the singing of the National Anthem.
In short, being a typical Red Sox fan is anything but typical.