Life As A Red Sox Fan

Wearing a Red Sox hat at UVM makes you cooler. That’s exactly the lesson I learned this past week after I was forced to wear a Red Sox hat.

To start off with, I am a Yankees Fan. I’ve been going to Yankee’s games my whole life. Since as far back as I can remember, I’ve always been a Yankees fan. You know, a New York born, a New York breed, loud-mouthed, cocky, boisterous, stereotypical Italian Yankees Fan. Well actually, I’m not that bad, that’s just what a Yankees hat seems to mean to people here at UVM. I became a traitor to my team as a result of a bet, a bet that involved copious libations and sense of loneliness immediately following game three of the ALCS Championship. I was riding high and sure a sweep of the Red Sox was forthcoming. An intense game of beirut eventually came down to a two-sided last cup do or die. Between the alcohol and the New York dominance of game three, I decided it was time to press my luck. The bet was that I was either being burdened with a Sox cap for one week or I would be taking an ever enchanting woman out on a date (which by the way was straightforwardly denied because of my allegiance to the Yankees earlier on.) Despite my best effort to relate the ying-yang balance of the universe (i.e. opposites coming together) to the Sox and Yankees, it seemed my only chance at getting a date was to go along with the wager.

It should be rather obvious what happened, the conclusion involves me borrowing a Sox hat, which immediately lead to the loss of my soul. Those were the circumstances of the bet that would inevitably change me. Change me in the way I was perceived throughout the UVM and Burlington community. Suddenly, people that would normally be launching stones in my direction were giving me high fives.

Instead of Boston fans walking past me with the astonishingly witty heckle of “Yankees Suck,” they were actually stopping to talk to me rather than judge me solely on my hat choice. Boston natives were buying me drinks down at the bar, when if they really knew my true New York roots, they would probably buy one just to spill it on me. Not to mention the fact that multiple female Sox fans pointed out that my attractiveness peaked when wearing the hat. If anything came from this whole experience, that was definitely a plus.

People’s reactions to me were friendly no matter what, as long as I had the hat on. It was amazing; I must have made about thirty to forty new friends based merely on the fact that my physical appearance symbolized a deep seeded resentment towards A-Rod. However, once I explained the circumstances involving the hat, their countenance quickly changed like an old school werewolf transition montage.

Eventually, I just stopped explaining myself and just kind of blended in like a chameleon. Going around saying that Derek Jeter swallows actually got me invited to a few parties (oh the complex and unpredictability of a Red Sox fan’s mind.) To become part of the pack I simply re-used some past jabs at the Yankees that I remembered and utilized them for my situation and to my advantage. I can’t even recount how many times the expression “Go Sox,” came flowing from my mouth, seemingly natural at times.

As ruthless and hardheaded as I found some of the Sox fans to be at times, the experience was actually fun. The Yankees/Red Sox rivalry gives this campus an atmosphere of euphoric chaos during the series. The amount of drunken revelry peaks, as sleepless nights multiple in an effort to get that paper done at the last minute as a result of the energetic emotion everyone experiences.

Well, by the end of the week I had successfully single-handedly taken down the Yankees. Now you may just think that I’m being paranoid, but most Sox fans are not much different. Whether they are plagued by “The Curse of the Bambino,” have a special jersey they have never washed before, or always wear their lucky vest during a Red Sox playoff game they would be able to sympathize with me in this regard. How was I supposed to feel when the Yankees went 0 for 4 from the moment I placed that wretched hat upon my head.

I didn’t get the date or the girl, but at least I learned what it felt like to walk around UVM in the hat of a Red Sox fan. Though many Sox fans tend to claim that it is “easier to be a Yankees fan,” I actually discovered that the opposite was true here at UVM. People will tend to hate you before they even know you, prepare themselves for a fight with you before they even know you, and reluctantly try to get to know the true you before they even know you because of a hat.

The next time you decide to throw a bottle at a Yankees fan with the intention of causing an injury, I challenge you try to wear a Yankees hat around for a week. Experience the life of a Yankees fan at a university full of World Series deprived Sox fans.