A rally for a Division Title? Who are we, the Phillies?

Die-hard Spx weenies gather downtown to rally for ALCS playoffs (?!)

Die-hard Spx weenies gather downtown to rally for ALCS playoffs (?!)

By Ryan Thomas

Look, I understand that the Red Sox have finished second in the AL East for twelve consecutive years and that topping the Yankees for the first time since “Saved By the Bell” was popular is sort of a big deal, but please spare me the City Hall Plaza Rally hosted by Tina Cervasio, Tom Caron and what’s left of The Monkees.

When the Red Sox won the World Series in 2004, it changed the collective train of thought of all who have lived and died by the Red Sox for so many years. If 2004 didn’t happen, this rally doesn’t happen. Don’t get me wrong; obviously there would have been celebrations by the fans, and by the players as well. The Lowells, Timlins and Papelbons are not the ones to blame here. They didn’t schedule the rally.

What we have to look at here is how 2004 changed the way Red Sox fans think and how “Pink Hat Nation” has grown exponentially.

When I was asked to attend the rally, I didn’t want to go. It was for a division title for Christ’s sake. If I was a Phillies fan and my team hadn’t made the playoffs in thirteen years, then I think I would be able to justify getting that excited for a division crown. But the Red Sox have now made the playoffs four out of the last five years. Gimme a break.

What bothered me the most about the 2007 Rally Extraordinaire was the crowd and who it was made up of. I take a lot of pride in being a true Red Sox fan. When they weren’t a great team, when they didn’t spend $160 million-plus each season and didn’t have the Brain Trust of owners they have now, I was there. I remember Dan Duquette. But do the Pink Hats remember?

Just for fun and because colors excite me, I decided to keep a tally of how many Pink Hats I saw at the rally. I was there for roughly an hour and a half and I spotted 20 Pink Hats. Now, these people don’t necessarily have to be wearing pink hats, they just have to fit the criteria of a Pink Hat, which is any pink Red Sox paraphernalia; albeit a hat, a visor, a t-shirt, a beanie, a baby bib or backpack. Sometimes, it can just be an over-indulgence of the color pink combined with Red Sox swag. These people are also card-carrying members of Red Sox Nation, they TiVoed the Red Sox Nation presidential debate, will buy Sox Appeal on DVD come Christmas time and they think that the Red Sox are winning 5-7.

My point is that this rally was terrible for the true Red Sox fans like myself. We go to a rally for a division crown that means nothing, watching Tina Cervasio’s futile attempt to start a “Let’s go Red Sox” chant and wait for the real act to come on stage: local boys The Dropkick Murphys.

The crowd was by far it’s loudest when the Dropkicks were introduced (a close second was when NESN showed footage of the Varitek/A-Rod fight in 2004) and it didn’t let up until they finished their last song, 2004’s “Tessie.”

If not for the Dropkick Murphys, the rally turnout would have looked similar to a meeting of Red Sox Nation members, a.k.a. every fan that jumped on the now over-flowing bandwagon after 2004’s championship.

I am officially ashamed of myself for attending a rally that means absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things. I know it’s harsh, but I think you have to take my Sox Nation membership card away now.