Graffiti item in Fenway rest room: "Tired of waiting, gone to find Godot."

Welcome to the company of frustrated Boston sports fans. Maybe you who will be here for but a short while will prove capable of resisting the discrete charm of the city's professional athletic assemblages, which have shown an unparalleled ability to lurch from crisis to crisis in a manner reminiscent of the country's foreign policy makers. More likely, you, too, will fall prey to the lure of the Green Monster and the Sirens of Swat.

To unearth the roots of this angst, a little history is in order.

1967: The Red Sox cop the American League pennant in pre-playoff days, with Carl Yastrzemski winning the triple crown. But the Sox falter in the World Series, succumbing to St. Louis.

1975: In what many accredited members of baseball's cognoscenti call the best World Series ever, the Red Sox are edged in seven games by the Red Stockings of Cincinnati in a hosiery hoedown. Tony Perez (now with the Red Sox) wrecks Boston with a towering blast of southpaw and genius Bill Lee (now with the Expos), undoing the sixth-game heroics of Cartlon Fisk and the grace of centerfielder Fred Lynn.

1978: The Sox, who appeared destined for a title in the A.L. East, allow the despised Yankees to catch up with them down the stretch, forcing a dramatic one-game playoff. In a contest laced with unexpected twists--including a home run by Bucky Dent which turned the tide--the Sox fall, 5-4, as Yaz pops out in the bottom of the ninth with the potential tying run on third base.

The Sox, it seems, have been stranded on third for many years now. But no matter where you come from, it's impossible to dislike a team which fields Yaz, Perez, Lynn, Fisk, the incomparable Jim Rice, Rick Burleson, Butch Hobson, Jerry Remy and rifle-armed Dewey Evans, currently mired in a batting slump. And Fenway Park has a life of its own--like the hotel in Stanley Kubrick's latest flick, it "shines." Small enough to afford a good view of the action from any seat in the house. Fenway has a communal quality all too uncommon in these days of prefab stadia. One caveat, though: Fenway franks also "shine"; avoid them at all costs.

After a miserable start this season, caused mostly by anemic pitching, the Sox are back on track and will probably pose a threat to the streaking Yanks before the campaign concludes. The starting pitching trio of Dennis Eckersley, Bob Stanley and Mike Torrez at one point possessed a combined record of 3-13, but has recently gone 9-3. Rice and Burleson have regained their hitting strokes, temporarily missing in action. Fisk has rebounded from the latest in a series of debilitating injuries, while Lynn, Remy and Perez have provided impressive offensive production. Following the onset of an unsettling cynicism, hope once again burgeons in Boston; the Sox have emerged from the dark dugout, ready to give their devotees another taste of success--probably just enough to elicit the rising expectations which, when unsatisfied, cause that much more frustration. You have been warned--but remember, love of the Sox should be an unrequited affair.

The trials of the NFL Patriots, the tribulations of the NHL Bruins and the remarkable renaissance of the NBA Celtics are matters beyond the realm of concern this summer. There is one other big-league team around--the New England Tea Men of the North American Soccer League (formerly known as the Minutemen until purchased by Lipton, the present nickname can be attributed to the fact that "Cup of Soup Men" would presumably have been historically inappropriate). The Tea Men are locked into the Eastern Division of the NASL's American Conference, dominated by a pair of strong Florida entries from Tampa Bay and Fort Lauderdale. No one pays much attention to their plight.

You can see many Red Sox games on TV channel 38, which offers good camera work and Hawk Harrelson's witticisms. The Globe's Peter Gammons is arguably the top baseball writer in the nation, and his Sunday columns are special treats. If you enjoy the finer things in life, Wonderland is a good dog track, Suffolk Downs has thoroughbred horse racing and Connecticut has jai-alai. See you around the Hub, sports.