Comments on: Birth of a new Nation http://www.deadissue.com/archives/2005/07/01/birth-of-a-new-nation/ At home drawing pictures of mountaintops Tue, 07 Sep 2010 08:22:23 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.0.1 By: Chris Austin http://www.deadissue.com/archives/2005/07/01/birth-of-a-new-nation/comment-page-1/#comment-2745 Chris Austin Sun, 03 Jul 2005 12:43:15 +0000 http://deadissue.com/archives/2005/07/01/birth-of-a-new-nation/#comment-2745 82 years...by game 4 of the series with the Yankees I had all but given up hope, but it really wasn't at all that positive...really more like hope wasn't warranted due to history and all. We'd all become conditioned to know it would happen like this, like it always did, and sometimes when feeling especially depressed for whatever reason, maybe that special on HBO on the Curse of the Bambino would be on and the voice of Ben Affleck would spark up on the speakers, as a Boston fan watching suddenly heads for the medicine cabinet and doesn't stop until every last pill is in the belly...then it's off to the place where the booze is kept, and the last thing that runs through their mind before the lights go out is 'that goddamned Affleck made money off of it even, the bastard, front row box seats w/ a PERSONAL MINISCREEN and he's making money...ugh, oh, ughhhhh......______ It's a sad thing the Sox suicides. They never seemed to be a guy hopping out in front of a bus, or hurling themself off the top of a building...no, it was always like they wanted to savor the actual suffering, the end had to be drawn out in order to run that extra memory of whatever bullshit play we all in Red Sox Nation defined ourselves by, so the poor bastard would bake a batch of brownies with the rat poison and over and over lament over how stupid John McNamara was, or whatever...just running through them one after another, washing them and the laced brownies with milk. Luckily I'd never sunk that low, having somehow found a way to detach myself emotionally and become one of those people who wasn't insane. Sure. Down 0-3 to the Yankees almost seemed better than a close one...they'd figured out how to just get it over with...until! 82 years…by game 4 of the series with the Yankees I had all but given up hope, but it really wasn’t at all that positive…really more like hope wasn’t warranted due to history and all. We’d all become conditioned to know it would happen like this, like it always did, and sometimes when feeling especially depressed for whatever reason, maybe that special on HBO on the Curse of the Bambino would be on and the voice of Ben Affleck would spark up on the speakers, as a Boston fan watching suddenly heads for the medicine cabinet and doesn’t stop until every last pill is in the belly…then it’s off to the place where the booze is kept, and the last thing that runs through their mind before the lights go out is ‘that goddamned Affleck made money off of it even, the bastard, front row box seats w/ a PERSONAL MINISCREEN and he’s making money…ugh, oh, ughhhhh……______

It’s a sad thing the Sox suicides. They never seemed to be a guy hopping out in front of a bus, or hurling themself off the top of a building…no, it was always like they wanted to savor the actual suffering, the end had to be drawn out in order to run that extra memory of whatever bullshit play we all in Red Sox Nation defined ourselves by, so the poor bastard would bake a batch of brownies with the rat poison and over and over lament over how stupid John McNamara was, or whatever…just running through them one after another, washing them and the laced brownies with milk.

Luckily I’d never sunk that low, having somehow found a way to detach myself emotionally and become one of those people who wasn’t insane.

Sure.

Down 0-3 to the Yankees almost seemed better than a close one…they’d figured out how to just get it over with…until!

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