Between Rivalries and Remembrance

**Update: Yankees lost

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The last remaining games of the Red Sox’s season had me checking the scores relentlessly, hoping the team would make a miraculous recovery and head to the World Series. It would be a sign that my late father, a die-hard Red Sox fan, is okay.

It’s almost been six months since he’s been gone, and I have so many things I wish I could say to him—so many questions and so many things I wish we could do together. Right now, I especially wish I could hear him talk about baseball. 

The Red Sox had a good start the first half of the season. They won the opening game against the Seattle Mariners, 6-4, and ended up splitting the series 2-2. They continued to win series in early April against the Oakland Athletics and Los Angeles Angels, ultimately concluding April with a 17-13 record, placing them in third place in the American League East. By the end of July, the Red Sox were still in third place and only two games behind the Royals for the third and final Wild Card slot within the American League standings.

My dad passed away in April, around the time the Red Sox were playing well. It gave me hope that the Red Sox could make it to the World Series this year and not blow it for the third consecutive year. Watching the Red Sox gave me comfort, more than any other year. It gave me a chance to feel closer to him. 

The second half of the season wasn’t so promising. The Red Sox were becoming inconsistent. I grew increasingly frustrated with the team. I hopelessly wanted them to play more games. 

When I attended one of their games against the Yankees on September 13th, I eagerly looked for a sign from my dad on the field. It was the infamous game where Aaron Judge broke his 16-game home run drought and hit a grand slam. The Yankees won that night, and Judge’s career continued to make history. So, no sign at all. My mom, a die-hard Yankees fan, was at least happy.

Not even two weeks later, on September 25, the Red Sox were officially eliminated from postseason contention after a 6-1 loss to the Toronto Blue Jays.

I never imagined that when the inevitable event of my father’s passing occurred, there would be days I actually forgot what had happened. Sometimes it still doesn’t feel completely real. There are moments when I can talk about it, and it feels fine, as if I’m discussing anything else in life. Then there are other moments when I think about it too much, and something so small—so innocuous—can cause overwhelming sadness. The Red Sox being eliminated was one of those times.

Grief is weird.

Time overall has felt different since, but not necessarily in a negative way.

Sports have always been a way to bring friends and family together—a way to share a love of a team over good food, drinks, and company. Throughout this MLB season, I have realized that sports have a unique way of intertwining our emotions with our loved ones, both in moments of joy and sorrow.

Now, instead of the Red Sox, the Yankees are heading to the World Series after a 5-2 win against the Cleveland Guardians. This is the first time the Yankees have a chance to play in the World Series since they won in 2009. My mom is certainly ecstatic.

The Red Sox season might not have ended the way I had hoped, but seeing my mom’s happiness makes me wonder if this is a sign that my dad is okay—maybe it’s a message to let her know he still loves her. Maybe I’m just desperately looking for something.

Regardless of whether there’s a sign or not, whether my dad is trying to give my mom a win, I am still staying loyal to Boston. There’s still no way I‘m rooting for the Yankees to win!!!

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