I’ve been a Red Sox fan since June of 1967. That was when my fifth-grade teacher took our class to Fenway Park for a night game. I don’t remember who the Sox played that night, but I remember that the game went into extra innings and that Tony Conigliaro hit a home run in the bottom of the tenth to win it.
I also remember that the picture of Tony C. in the program was about the cutest thing I’d ever seen in my life and my first real crush was born.
As was my life as a Red Sox fan.
If you follow baseball at all, you’ll know that the Boston team used to be famous for its inability to win. Year after year, we Sox fans would cheer ourselves hoarse in the spring and cry ourselves hoarse in the fall.
That all changed in October of 2004 when the Sox finally overturned the curse that had plagued them for 86 years. They won the World Series.
All of New England celebrated that victory. We were beyond thrilled, beyond excited, beyond proud. You would have thought that every one of us had pitched in the playoffs!
What made things even sweeter for us was that in order to make it into the World Series, our beloved boys had beaten the despised New York Yankees.
All year long, all through the 2004 season, and for several years afterward, everyone in New England talked about how much we hated the Yankees.
I remember how everyone talked about the two teams. Our guys were “The Idiots”; the Yankees were the “Evil Empire.” We adored the relaxed, fun feeling of our team. So they drank in the clubhouse, so what? We were charmed by the antics of Johnny Damon, chuckling at the image of his naked pull-ups.
And we all knew, deep in our very souls, that A-Rod was weak, whining and pitiful. We loathed Derek Jeter, who we considered to be cold, emotionless. An automaton with no soul. Don’t even get me started on what we thought of Joe Torre, a manager as sour as our own Terry Francona was sweet.
Curt Schilling? Our brave hero!
Mariano Rivera? A fool.
And on and on it went. It was kind of fun, you know? Our shared adoration for one team and shared hatred for the other gave us a sense of belonging. It gave us a feeling of safety and security. It gave us a sense that we were a clan, protected by our loyalty to ourselves.
It was only during one of the off-seasons that it occurred to me that we were being a little closed-minded. I listened to an interview with Derek Jeter on XM Radio. I was surprised to realize that the man was articulate, intelligent, warm and funny.
And then I was surprised at my own surprise.
I am embarrassed at how long it took me to realize that just because a guy wore a Red Sox jersey, I couldn’t assume that he was a prince. The whole “team” thing was really only about baseball games, not character.
When all was said and done, Curt Schilling turned out to be someone I wouldn’t want to sit next to on a bus, while Derek Jeter is a guy I’ve truly come to admire.
So what does all this have to do with politics, you ask?
It’s the whole “Vote Blue No Matter Who” thing, that’s what. It’s the way that we immediately write off anyone who watches a different cable news channel than we do.
I know it can be fun to laugh at those memes about how stupid the “sheep” are because they can’t “think for themselves.” But this stuff is only funny when “our” side is saying it about “their” side. When the barb is turned around and aimed at “us”, we bristle and comfort ourselves by saying how hateful the other side is.
Here’s the thing: I have really strong political views. I’m a far-left, progressive, Medicare-for-all, tuition-free-public-college, hippy snowflake. It would be really easy for me to pick a team.
But I’m no longer willing to assume that every other liberal thinker is a saint and every conservative a sinner. “We” aren’t smarter than “they” are. “We” aren’t kinder, or more gentle, or more deserving.
And we are NOT a team.
I don’t think of the political parties as teams. I don’t think of their followers as teams. I now realize that everyone who wears my favorite uniform isn’t a good guy and everyone who wears the other jersey isn’t criminal. I am no longer willing to vote for a candidate just because there is a D next to their name.
I have finally realized that I won’t be pitching in the playoffs. In fact, I know now that this isn’t actually a game and that I’m not bound by clan loyalty to help one team come out on top.
Because we live (at least theoretically) in a democracy, I am free to cast my vote for whichever candidate I prefer.
Thanks to Derek Jeter for helping me to evolve.
Originally published at http://momshieb.blog on December 31, 2019.