...We couldn't wait "till next year".
Now it's the month of March, with spring due to arrive on the 20th. That's when the days are already longer, and becoming warmer at last. You're lucky! The winter is over for you - while, as I am sitting here writing, the temperature is a cold 14 degrees, with a minus-10-degree chill factor outside, and I have an appointment this afternoon on the other side of Melrose. So when March finally comes for me, instead of shoveling snow and scraping the frost off my windshield, I'll be at the Melrose Mirror, talking about baseball and praising our beloved Red Sox.
Ah, yes; our beloved Red Sox! Every year, even before the baseball season starts, we cheer each other up by saying once again "Maybe this year ... " And every fall, as the season ends in disappointment, we try to cheer each other up by saying "Wait until next year." We've been loyal to the Olde Towne Team since 1918, when Babe Ruth's contract with the Red Sox was sold to the New York Yankees - and we haven't forgotten, and we haven't won a World Series since!
This Red Sox loyalty is often passed on from father to son to grandson. I never knew about my Granddad's interest in baseball until years later. Granddad owned a business in Boston, (the family lived in Melrose), and sometimes he'd leave the shop for lunch, saying he'd be back late. No problem with that; he'd often have business to tend to, leaving his three sons in charge.
Remember, though, this was all before my time. I picked up the story piece by piece over the years. And here it is: Granddad had been skipping work and going to the Red Sox ball games!
Well, you can imagine what happened. One afternoon Granddad was at the Red Sox ball game, and looked over to his right and there was his second son, John, who also skipped work and went to the same ball game. What's more, John happened to be looking to his left while Granddad was looking to his right, and they saw each other! According to the story, they stared at each other for a moment, then each turned away and made believe the other was not there.
But how did the rest of the family find out? Well, it seems the third son, Albert, had skipped out, too, and he saw the whole thing.
Well, What happened next? Not much. The word got around through the family and it was all kept very quiet. So until the day he died at the age of 104, Granddad knew that we knew, and we knew that he knew that we knew. And nobody ever let on.
March 2, 2001