Another day in Boston. Another parade. This is getting old. (Not really.) Oh, Boston sports teams, why are you so suddenly and universally victorious?
For me, the highlight will forever remain the first Super Bowl win and the parade that followed. A frigid winter day didn’t stop thousands of fans from lining up around the Boston Common to express their thanks to the Pats, even if my fingers were numb from staking out my spot for hours and the cup of hot chocolate I was holding splashed into my hair and froze immediately. We were an excited bunch that couldn’t contain the joy and amazement at our luck.
The second Patriots victory was pretty exciting too: more hot chocolate and signs held aloft. By the third, I was content to watch from my warm cafeteria at work, which overlooked the route in the most convenient way.
The first Red Sox win in my lifetime: huge, and during a season more conducive to a parade, so we joined the billion people along the route where old people tears were not uncommon. The second one I was again perched on the windowsill waving at Manny like a fan all too comfortable with winning.
Now, the cheering has begun and the Duck Tour boats are about to rumble by, but seeing as I have no interest in basketball and watched only the second half of the last game, I know I’d be booted off the bandwagon if I even tried to jump on. So, I think I’ll just sit here as basketball fans approach the euphoria that I felt the first time my team won and reminisce.