This week, I returned to Amherst after having spent last semester abroad, away from the Pioneer Valley, for more than eight months. Somehow in that time, I had forgotten the diehard dedication of all Boston sports fans that—to an outsider like myself—can come off as a bit intense to say the least.
Before we go any further, I should come clean and admit that, as a born and bred Washington, DC suburbanite, my Mike Green jersey (Washington Capitals #52) doesn’t hang in my closet but lives on the back of my desk chair, so that I can admire it every day. The Redskins magnet on my car for has been there for so long that it no longer shines maroon but reflects a sort of hazy pink. Having grown up without our own proper baseball team, we were raised an Orioles fan if your parents loved the game or were local, or like myself, totally apathetic. By the time the Nationals came into being, I was a bit too old to dedicate my attention to a new sport or team.
Then I came to UMass and learned that apathy is the one thing you are not allowed to feel towards sports, especially when it comes to baseball. An hour after I arrived for my New Students Orientation, so many summers ago, all the girls staying on my floor were asked to go around and introduce themselves. My turn came and I stated my name, where I was from, and my intended major. Almost before I could finish, a short brunette across the room stood up and loudly announced, “Welcome to Red Sox Nation!”
I was shocked. I had not mentioned baseball, or sports. Had I said something wrong? Or were the people up here simply that serious about their sports teams? I knew the Yankees-Red Sox rivalry was arguably one of the most fierce in all sports, but I had said I lived outside of Washington, DC. Certainly this passion couldn’t extend past the ninth inning or apply to all Boston teams.
Well, I learned my lesson the next evening when the Celtics beat the Lakers for their 17th World Championship title. Orientation sessions ended early so that students could watch the second half of the game. The moment the final buzzer sounded, I experienced my first (but far from my last) Southwest-sports-related-uproar. It sounded like the entire state was cheering.
A group of boys ordered the largest number of wings that can be delivered and lead several hundred freshman on a walk around Southwest that—in true UMass fashion—included an unrelated jeer of “Yankees suck!” and then culminated in the singing of “Sweet Caroline” under the bridge. The pure joy on all of my classmates’ faces was exhilarating and somewhat foreign.
That was the night I learned that Boston sports fandom isn’t just a form of pride, but the basis of a social community—and not just for people who grew up in Massachusetts. I’ve been amazed how much Boston fans want everyone to feel the same way as they do, especially when they celebrate their teams. Everyone is welcome to join in the fun, even the girl in the Mike Green jersey.
Rachel can be reached for comment at [email protected]
