little anecdote.
dropped into a downtown l.a. wine bar saturday to watch the game. a place i'll drop by after work once in awhile for an arrogant bastard. anyway, i stopped by to watch saturday's game, not yet knowing how friday night's game had ended. when i watched the replay of the comeback i was pleased, to say the least. so, saturday's game starts and we're a few innings into it when i group of twenty-somethings walk in. they're behind me, on the other side of shelves of wine, so we can't see each other. i can hear them and they can can see the big-screen. they mutter about the game that's on and the owner, at the register, calls out asking me what channel it's on. staying seated, i give him the information. then one of the guys who's come in - they've grabbed some wine - remarks loud enough for me to hear, on purpose, because for some reason he believes he's found a sympathizer, "last night's game was a complete disaster."
i stand up, sox cap on my head, wearing the colors, and answer, "actually, i thought it went pretty well." the immediate change in their faces was, as the commercial says, priceless. i then raised my beer in a toast to a "great game." they began to murmur and were clearly unhappy with what had just happened. as for me, it made my day, no matter who'd won that game. they left, still muttering about "a damned red sox fan."
doh.