You've Got to Grow the Passion

I've told my kids countless times, "It's all about passion." No matter what you do in life, you have to have passion. And as a Red Sox fan, that's a given. You can't be a Red Sox fan and not be passionate about the game, about the team. They go hand in hand like a hot dog and a bun.

Sox fans are not born. They are made. They are cultivated. In Boston, it starts the seconds after a baby leaves the womb.

Don't believe me? Ask the thousands of babies born at Boston's Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center who are given their first Red Sox caps before they're weighed and measured. Take a quick survey at Bob's or the Yawkey Way Store to see how many Red Sox rattles, bibs, t-shirts, blankets, socks, and binkies are sold each year. Search for Red Sox baby videos on YouTube. We start the indoctrination at a very early age.

My kids were no exception. My daughter Erin was three weeks old when we took her to Fenway for the first time. Patrick was a little older, five months, but hey, he was born in February, not April, so we had to wait for the season to begin. I have photos of myself at age two in a Yastremski sweatshirt holding my brother's hand. I have photos of my Dad at age eight with Ted Williams in Fenway Park. Growing Sox fans has long been a Boston tradition.

You've got to teach passion. It's about teaching your kids to love a team and being there for them through thick and thin, through 86 years of hardship as well as the World Series celebrations. It's about loving every aspect of the game and loving every aspect of the Fenway experience.

Perhaps no better example of a passionate Sox fan exists than Mike Schuster. To me, he is the ultimate Sox fan, and he's not afraid to show it. Mr. Schuster, as he professes, is Boston's #1 fan, wearing his heart on his....um....belly (not a 6-pack ab but a kegger ab, as he's pointed out.) There's no doubt that you have to have passion to put on a complete Red Sox outfit and paint your belly red, white, and blue with the Sox logo. I'm sure he'd tell you that he didn't start out as "passionate" as he is now. It was cultivated along the way.

And cultivating the passion has been one of my parental goals.

My son has a Red Sox room. Not just the walls painted green with a poster or two. No, this is a young Sox fan's dream come true. My friend, Dave Laabs, a talented wall muralist (see http://www.theairbrushshack.com/) created the view of the Green Monster from our season ticket seats in pure airbrush perfection. Add the retired numbers, signed baseball cards, framed posters, a Red Sox comforter and pillows, a stuffed Wally, several Sox hats, and a framed photo of his grandfather with Ted Williams (after he won the 1939 greater Boston Little League batting championship - my father, not Ted) complete the room. It's an environment to instill the passion or at the very least encourage it a little.

This past off-season, when Patrick's birthday rolled around, we even had the kids play "Pin the Tail on the Yankee," blindfolding them, spinning them around, and having them try to pin a devil's tail on a poster of Derek Jeter. (see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XsgyYln_Pzk)

All in good fun, but let's face it, growing a fan who will be dedicated to a team over the span of eighty championship-free decades takes hard work, creativity and passion as well!

It's more than simply buying your kid a Red Sox t-shirt or taking them to a game at Fenway. It's about teaching them all of the great moments in Red Sox history. It's about letting them stay up to clinch the penant or the series (or waking them up so they won't miss it.) It's about telling them about the first time you went to Fenway or the first game you remember watching on TV with your Dad. It's about letting them embrace all the wonderful things that make Sox fans the best fans in the world. It's about teaching them all the words to Sweet Caroline. It's about taking them into Fenway Park and helping them understand in an instant all the tradition, heartache and excitement that lives in the walls, on the field, and in the stands. It's about teaching them to love baseball and love the Red Sox with all their heart and all their soul.

And maybe, just maybe, if you do your job right, they'll paint their bellies some day.

Are Foam Fingers Really Necessary?

Last night I sat in Section 94 watching the Sox eek out a win against Toronto. The Sox scored the first two runs from an error at the plate, although I didn't actually see that happen.

Across the aisle sat a typical family - mom, dad, boy, girl - all decked out in Red Sox gear. They were so cute in their matching Ortiz jerseys, chowing down Fenway Franks and cheering for the team...until in a moment of weakness or whining, the parents caved. Seconds before as I saw the vendor huffing it up the stairs toward our section with an armful of foam fingers, penants, and $30 rally monkeys, I knew we were in trouble. Sure enough, they bought two $10 foam fingers. You could hear the moans from the season ticket holders who sat behind them. They knew we were all in for a rough game.

It takes all of about thirty seconds for a kid to realize all the "amusing" things they can do with a foam finger:

1. Pick their nose with it.

2. Pick their sibling's nose with it.

3. Try to pick their mom's nose with it.

4. Try to pick their dad's nose with it (then having it grabbed out of their hands and given back only when they whine a little then promise not to do that again.)

5. Pointing the foam finger as though it was a gun and trying to make believe they're shooting people walking back up the aisle with their beers and $10 Hilltop steak sandwiches (a much better choice for spending ten bucks if you ask me.)

6. Trying to goose people walking back up the aisle with their beers and $10 Hilltop steak sandwiches (until Dad grabs it out of their hands and gives it back only when they whine a little and promise not to do it again.)

7. Waving the finger incessantly during the play of the game, completely oblivious to the other 37,842 Red Sox fans behind them who are trying to watch the game.

8. Affixing the foam finger onto their brand spanking new Sox caps then turning their heads left and right to purposely hit anyone within a three foot radius.

9. Using the foam finger to poke the people sitting in front of them in the back of the head then hiding the finger so that when the annoyed fan turns around they see nothing.

10. Using it as a pillow after the sugar high of Cracker Jack, Kettle Corn, fried dough, ice cream, candy and cotton candy has worn away.

A little advice to you parents who actually think that a $10 foam finger is a good investment and can't for some reason or another convince your kid that the same ten bucks would be better spent on a steak sandwich: Please, please, make sure your kid doesn't wave that stupid foam finger during the play of the game. There are other fans who have paid top dollar to watch the game, not to watch your kid try to pick his brother's nose with a foam finger or to watch your kid use the time when there are two on base and Papi at the plate to stand and show their support for the Sox and their newly acquired foam finger. Teach them a little fan respect. Or better yet, don't buy the foam finger in the first place. Honestly, where do you think it'll end up a few months from now? And don't get me started on $30 rally monkeys...