"I Told You I Was Freaky"


Dear Red Sox--

I have a confession to make. I've been cheating on you. A lot. Since June. It's unwise, it's torrid, and it's Freaky.

You know how these things happen. One night you're sitting in a bar, and you're just trying to drink your beer and watch the game in peace, but then you start eying the other team. I know they caused you serious injury and took down half your roster. I was sorry when that happened, I really was.

I thought it was just my excitement to go on vacation to San Francisco that was causing these thoughts. I tried to ignore them. But you know how it is. You're in another time zone, and one day you're striking up a conversation with a stranger because you're both wearing a Sox cap, and the next thing you know you're out with The Kiwi wearing a panda on your head and eating garlic fries.


I made a lot of excuses. It doesn't count if they're in another league. It doesn't count if you're in another area code. It doesn't count if they're in another time zone.

But don't blame The Kiwi for this. It would have happened anyway. And it's not because they're younger or better looking (even though they are). Things haven't been great for us in the postseason since 2007, and let's face it, we never really recaptured the magic we had in 2004.

I'll always love you, Red Sox, as much as I ever did, and I'm not leaving you. But maybe it's just not natural for a person to be committed to one team for her whole adult life. Maybe a woman's got to do what a woman's got to do, even if it's in California.

And we'll always have hating the Yankees.

Love,
Manda