This time, it was my turn, although it wasn’t as bad for me, not being a life-long Rockies fan (’cause, you know, I’m older than 15). Sure I wanted my homestate team to win but I would have settled for seeing them actually play baseball. Well, last night they did, and a little bit in Game 3.

In 2004, it was Dex who was cringing on the couch, watching his hometown Cardinals fall in a four-game sweep. And it was Edward who cheered and whooped and wore his Sox shirt with pride. He was five then, just old enough to get caught up in the excitement of his friends who are born and bred fans. That there was an 86 year history behind the sense of triumphant victory was lost on him. All he cared about was that his team were now the World Champions.

Edward likes baseball ok, but he’s far from obsessed with it. He’s just now really watching the games and getting interested in the plays. But he is a Red Sox fan. What seemed most galling to Dex three years ago was not so much that the Cards lost (which sucked, to be sure) but that his own son was reveling in his defeat. 

Edward asks why we hate the Red Sox. I try to explain that we don’t. After all, I tell him, one of mommy and daddy’s first dates was at a Red Sox game. And less than a week after I found out I was pregnant with Edward, we attended a game (different game, years later). So really Edward went to his first (and only) Sox game even before he was born. Hmm, maybe that’s why.

Or maybe it’s because, despite my and Dex’s allegiances to other teams - to other regions - born of our own senses of identity, Edward has his own sense of identity. And that identity includes being a native of Massachusetts.

Hopefully the next time the Sox go to the World Series, they’ll play the Braves or the Padres. One thing I know for sure, this year’s victory has clinched Edward’s loyalty for a lifetime.