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Boston Strong' and sharing it together

POSTED October 31, 2013
BY Rick Wilson
Twitter: @scribewilson


                                            `Boston Strong’ and sharing it together

 

            It was long past bed time on a school night. Hours past the time he should have been sleeping in another world. But deep into the late October night, Jonathan was living the dream not dreaming the dream. This was a wonderful reality.

            Jonathan’s smile was a Christmas smile, the kind only the young can seem to conjure up when they are in the world of special. The living room floor rocked; there was an ecstasy far beyond the world of happy.

            In one sense it probably wasn’t totally unique. I suspect he was far from the only one in New England and Red Sox Nation that wanted to rock the late Oct. 30 night for forever.  But, it was an extended moment that you carved out a permanent place in the memory banks for.

            Jonathan is my son, a pretty personable 13-year old 8th grader (if I do say so myself). He is a three-sporter in participation and will pick up the golf club when we choose to head out to the fairways. His seasons never end; they just morph into one another or overlap.

He loves his English Premier League Soccer, the Celtics and the Giants. But man, he wears Red Sox on his heart. He knows Yaz and Jim Rice despite his years. He loves Big Papi and is now, at the very least several years before shaving, on the beard bandwagon.

He loves Fenway and the sausages, clam chowdah and the atmosphere that comes with it. He eats up `Sweet Caroline’ and belt it out with the best. It doesn’t hurt that my wife’s name is the same and he is under parental order to sing or face slave labor.

He knows the Drop Kick Murphys and his wardrobe is well-stocked with Red Sox wear

He has the unfailing belief that `Everything will be all-right’ unlike his constantly worrying dad. He is truly `Boston Strong’.

The Red Sox World Series triumph belongs to so many but this was his moment and in turn my moment because it was his moment.

Bedtime is usually 9 p.m. or so on school nights. Our house’s own Big Papi (that would be my wife) told him for this he could stay up until the end. Sorry school teachers but on this night `Boston Strong’ overrode tired eyes and classroom charisma.

The Red Sox eliminated the drama early, opening up a 6-0 lead. Actually a good thing in one way because Jonathan’s eyes starting closing a little after 10:00.  The night now took on some torture with it. The type where you know what is in that special present under the Christmas tree but you can’t open it until it is time.

Jonathan said to me, “Dad, please wake me up at the end. Promise.” Off he went into the land of the unconscious on the couch, I’m sure one decorated with beards, choruses of `Sweet Caroline’ and a bunch of bearded people in red outfits. He might think Santa is actually a Red Sox player if you think about it.

I woke him up when the jubilation clock hit about 11:15. He had the smile when his eyes opened and it just kept growing bigger and bigger, almost covering the entire living room as the night stretched out and we landed over the rainbow.

We watched the 9th inning and he couldn’t stay still. At 11:22 when Koji Uehara struck out Matt Carpenter, the Wilson house rocked. He jumped up and down, rattling the floor. He knows the history. He hadn’t experienced the history. In 2004 he was too young. Of 2007, vague memories.

This was his time. I watched him soaking it all up, knowing that this was so many fans’ night, but it was his night. My smile was almost as long-lasting and almost as big as his. The Red Sox had been fun to watch. But watching him and the reaction - my moment too.

 

He hopped all over the room. He wanted to go wake up his mother and I asked him if he had a death wish. As we soaked up the post-game coverage he had his phone out, taping Big Papi, things on the field, all things Red Sox. At midnight, Oct. 30, 2013 life didn’t get any better.

For a half an hour we lived in the moment and Jonathan couldn’t stop bubbling about it all. Finally at 12:15 the body started to give out and he went up to bed. I know he slept well.

I woke Jonathan up at 6 a.m. Thursday morning and he didn’t miss a beat. He still had that grin and gave a fist pump. Back downstairs to watch Sports Center and continue on the feel good trip of a lifetime.

It was also Halloween. Jonathan wore his costume to school. All his Red Sox uniform dress with a great big black beard to go with it. `Boston Strong.’ Ridiculously happy.

It will continue, today, tomorrow, next week, next year well down future’s road. Call it Boston hooked. He has been a member of Red Sox Nation since he was a tadpole. He will always be a member of Red Sox nation.

I sat there Wednesday night and felt the special. The Red Sox were really cool, beards and chemistry, big hits and Big Papi. Pitching rich and blessed with the ability to produce big moments.

But it was just as much fun and just as special watching Jonathan. So happy, so special, at the top of his 13-year-old world. The Red Sox didn’t belong to our house Wednesday night. But the moment sure did and does.

Jonathan will always remember it and dad will never get it.  Thanks to the Red Sox for making our special moment. In the middle of late New England October night, life was perfect in our world. As a moment it was a keeper.

 Boston Strong and sharing it together. So cool.

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