But poor calls and errors aside, I return to my father's advice not to place my life's happiness in the hands of the Red Sox. I've learned that lesson; this year I placed only my temporary happiness in their hands. And while I'm tired from staying up late night after night and cheering myself hoarse from the grandstand, while I'm sad that the hated Yankees are in the World Series yet again, I have to say that the Sox delivered for me. Their gutsy play and come-from-behind victory against Cleveland were inspiring; I won't soon forget O'Leary's two home-runs in Game 5. Watching Martinez mow down the Yankees one right after the other in Game 3 of the ALCS was a sight for the ages.
The Red Sox, in the midst of all the pain they've caused their fans over the last 81 years, have also brought us a great deal of joy. Just wait 'til next year.
Susannah B. Tobin '00 is a classics concentrator in Lowell house. Her column appears on allternate Thursdays.