June 27, 2011
June 25, 2011
June 25, 2011
June 21, 2011
With my mother's family hailing from Maine, I was raised in a strict Red Sox household in San Jose, California, and force-fed my Clemens cheers and my Gedman grousings early on. Vivid memories of the '86 Series - my earliest clear sports memory - haunted this Idiot until, well, you know.
As I was coming into my own as a Red Sox fan in the mid-to-late '80's it only seemed right to adopt Larry's Celtics despite the fact that my mother was no basketball fan. I never could get behind the Patriots because of their goofy uniforms, or my transplanted parents' favorite team the 49ers because even as a child I sensed how obnoxious the white wine-sipping Niners fans were during the Montana years. So I chose the Vikings, the Rams, and the Bengals as my teams around the age of nine because THOSE teams had cool unis. Unfortunately a true story.
I occassionally really get behind a period team: a team that I normally would never root for but the specific makeup of that club calls to me like a sweet siren. The Fab Five were one such team and Jalen Rose to this day is one of my favorite players (how no NBA GM ever attempted to maximize C-Webb's potential by hooking those to up together again is beyond me) ever. The Messier Rangers were another such team. Those guys were hard. I also root for the San Francisco Giants as a secondary favorite because of my love for the Will Clark/Kevin Mitchell/Matt Williams-era Giants. But I couldn't enjoy last year's championship all that much because I have little respect for Brian Sabean, the "Accidental Genius" as I call him.
My love of family and love of my profession are the only threats to my enjoyment of sport. I live in San Jose with my 3-year old daughter Mila who is thoroughly enjoying her Sox/Celtics brainwashing (a treat to watch a game with Daddy, a second treat only after victory). Her favorite player is Rajon Rondo, or "Swiper" as she aptly named our point guard thief after the Dora the Explorer character. Kevin Garnett, aka "Wet Guy" in my household, comes in a fairly close second. She also enjoys screaming "Youk!" during Sox games. This year I think she'll grasp the concept of laser-show. She is almost as tall as Pedroia after all...
I am a real estate agent by profession, and I love the juice I get by helping clients maximize their sales price or find their dream home. I actually find the rush to be similar to playoff baseball: urgent, tension-filled drama culminating in a powerful moment of relief coupled with ecstatic pride and hope. So if you know of any sports fans looking to buy or sell in the Bay Area, send them my way as long as they don't cheer Yankees or Lakers!