Last night, all travel came to a stop in this corner of New England. For those who hadn't realized it, most of my life revolves around a close identification with my sports teams. The Red Sox provide me with great sustenance in times of personal difficulty; they are also my delight in the high times. I have been a fan since 1967, but this year I have been a fanatic.

David Ortiz hit a homerun! And now we are waiting for the Yankees to finish up against the Minnesota Twins. Who will we play? The Yankees, of course. There is just no way that Red Sox fans can get interested in the pennant or the World Series if we don't have to go through the Yankees to do it.

This summer, while lying on a beach blanket on the end of Cape Cod, I heard a conversation between 2 men:

--I used to be a Yankees fan.
--You did not.
--Then I realized it takes more maturity to be a Red Sox fan.

None of my friends found this nearly as funny as I did, but I do think the guy got one thing right: Red Sox fans have to be able to surmount disappointment, and to keep the hopeful spirit exercised at the same time. I don't know if this takes any special kind of maturity, but it's a hell of double-bind to live inside of.

On Tuesday night, the first game of the 2004 Yankees-Red Sox series. Let the games begin. I can travel later.