Should I raise my son to be like me?

               As I watch this world series play out, I can’t help but wish that the Red Sox were involved.

                Even though I have never been anywhere near Boston, I have always been a die-hard Red Sox fan.  My dad (who also has never been to Boston) is a die-hard Red Sox fan. 

                In fact, just last night as I watched the final innings of game 6, I became irate when they showed the Buckner play.  That always makes me mad.  For one thing, the Red Sox lost that game, and the World Series that year.  Another thing is that Buckner’s name was vilified for years over that.  Yeah, he made a mistake, but that game was not on him.  How about Bob Stanley?  Or the host of other Sox who made mistakes?  I digress.

                The point is that now I am a father.  When you see your child for the first time, your life changes forever.  All of a sudden, it’s not all about you anymore.  You want everything for your child.  You want them to always be happy and you never want them to experience heartache.  I have a deep passion for sports that I hope to share with my kids.  This past summer, before putting him to bed, I would sing to my son..,..

                Take me out to the ball game.

                Take me out to the crowd.

                Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jacks

                I don’t care if I never get back

                Let me root, root, root

                For the RED SOX!             

                If they don’t win it’s a shame

                For its one, two, three strikes you’re out!

                At the old, ball game!

               

                And obviously that’s where the Red Sox come in.  Recently, I have been thinking about raising my son as a fan of another team besides the Sox.  I know, I know, it sounds blasphemous and in a lot of ways it is.  But I just don’t want him to experience the almost yearly heartache that comes with being a Red Sox fan. 

                Take this year for example.  We were running away with the wildcard, we had a seemingly insurmountable lead.  Even with a handful of games left, the oddsmakers said that we had a 90+% chance of going to the playoffs.  We lost a slew of games to the Baltimore freaking Orioles. 

                I get it, it’s just sports, but I can’t help it.  I don’t want my son to have to watch as his team collapses like that. 

                But the more I think about it, the more I realize I just can’t do that.  This boy will be a Red Sox fan.  At least I’ll sure try to have it that way.  If I really want the best for my son, I’ll allow him to face some hard times, because then he will be able to appreciate the good. 

                And those good times in Boston have been great.  The 2004 comeback is still probably my favorite moment in baseball.  And 2007 was sweet as we came back against the upstart Indians to get into the WS.  It was so fun to watch all the clutch hits, the defensive gems, the thrill of home runs and strikeouts to finish the other team off.  Life as a Red Sox fan is pretty darn good. 

                The sun will come out tomorrow, the world will continue to go, and the Red Sox will once again rise to the top.  Then, all the heartache will be worth it.