Baseball was at the beginning of our relationship. Shortly I
moved to New York in 2007 to take a job as a professor at John Jay College,
CUNY, one of my colleagues—a Red Sox fan—invited me to go to a Red Sox bar in
the middle of Manhattan to watch Yankees- Red Sox. And Erin, another new
professor in our political science department, was also a Red Sox fan, so she
was going to come with. Sounds great. The first colleague got delayed, so Erin
and I took the subway to the Red Sox bar, had a great time, had our first two
beers and great conversation before our other colleague got there.
Earlier that summer, I looked the schedule and found out
that the Astros had a September series at Shea Stadium. I bought two tickets
before I got to New York, figuring one of my new colleagues would want to join
me at a ballgame. And since the Red Sox
fan was single, a woman, and into baseball, it seemed obvious to invite her.
And by the 4th inning, I knew I wanted to ask Erin out on a formal
date.
I did soon after. That date went well. So did others. Erin
& I married in 2010, had our son in 2012, and have lived happily ever
after…except of course, when the Red Sox and the Astros meet in the playoffs.
Like they did last week.
* * *
An
aside—Our son is now 9, and his big love in life is music—classical, opera,
he’s been in a Broadway phase for a while now. So even though he doesn’t have a
big interest in sports, his loyalties were decided for him. Erin and I negotiated
his sports allegiances before we got married. He would be an LSU fan like me
(Geaux Tigers!) and a Red Sox fan like my wife. Of course, when I negotiated
this, my silent position was that he could cheer for the Astros in the NL
playoffs. So if you think you hate Bud
Selig…
* * *
In
2017, the ALDS games were played in the afternoon, so we were usually in
different places as the games were going on. As a result, we did not have a lot
of tension.
In
2018, things were of course very different. The Red Sox won 108 games, the
Astros won 103, and our teams clashed in the ALCS.
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| Our House Divided Flag. |
My
memories of that series were mostly of constant frustration. The Astros seemed
so close, yet the breaks kept going against them, in no small part because of
the Red Sox talent. So I’m pretty sure when I congratulated Erin after the last
out of Game 5 of that series, I didn’t seem too sincere. My words were “congratulations” but my body
language spoke louder—I was storming out of the living room as I said it.
The
2021 ALCS once again brought our teams together and created tension in our
household. The tension is not omnipresent, but it is still real. And something
that is easy for others to note. When we went to an event last weekend, Erin
wore her Red Sox cap, and I wore an Astros pullover, and that inspired many
comments from our friends here in New Jersey. Red Sox fans wished Erin well.
Mets fans enjoyed the contrast. The many Yankee fans we know—you’ll be happy to
know they proved how unhappy they were by telling us they were rooting for a
meteor.
“Hey,
you look like you’re still talking to each other,” said one friend, a big Cubs
fan.
“Well,
for 20 hours of the day we are,” I replied.
And
that was a true statement. We kept to our normal routines for most all of the
day. We’d talk about the mundane but important stuff about running a
household—who would take the kiddo to which activity, what needed to be added
to the grocery order, etc. We talked about more serious stuff. For much of the
day, we’d look like we did every other day of our marriage.
The
biggest adjustment I had to make in my daily routine: we own Tervis tumblers
with both Astros and Red Sox logos. On every other day, I don’t care what glass
I use. But last week, I checked every time what glass I was picking out of the
cabinet—LSU and flower patterns are fine; Astros great; Red Sox, move it aside
and find another. Editor’s note: Erin
wants to note that she does this every day; she’s never used the Astros glass.
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| Our collection of Tervis Tumblers. Choose wisely |
But
other than that, our lives were the same. Until the game started. We’d sit on
opposite sides of the living room. For the beginning of the game, our son would
sit with Erin on the couch. We both had our phones with us so we could
communicate with the people we wanted to communicate with—our friends who were fans
of our team. We’d only talk to each other when it was time to start the kiddo’s
bedtime routine. After that, it was back downstairs to the living room, and
back to not talking to the person on the other side of the room, but
electronically communicating with sympathetic people hundreds of miles away.
The
tension increased as the series moved on. Some of that for me was the despair
brought on by the Red Sox blowout wins in Games 2 and 3. I watched most of
those games waiting for it to be over. Erin did what any fan does when here
team is ahead in playoff game. She sweated out each plate appearance.
But
as the series moved into Games 4, 5, and 6, we got closer to the end. And of
course, the series turned in the Astros favor. I was happy; Erin was not. I
thought my cheering was tempered; she did not.
By
the end of Game 6, she had left the living room to listen to the radio broadcast.
It felt like a repeat of the end of the 2018 ALCS, expect with our roles
reversed. One of us happy; one of us frustrated by the results.
* * *
We
returned back again to normal the next morning. Well, there was some silence
when we first woke up. But we quickly started talking again. About the things
we usually talk about. Mundane stuff about our plans for the weekend. Serious
things about the world. Fun things about what made us laugh.
In
the end, baseball is just a game. It’s important to me because I spend so much
time on it.
It’s
important to Erin because she is just as attached to her team as we are to
Astros. But in the end, nothing actually improves in the world because the
Astros won this ALCS or lost that one back in 2018.
A
baseball game is entertainment. It is something that can help bring two people
together for a lifetime. It’s not something that can keep us apart.
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