We were finally going to beat the goddamn Yankees.Įventually, my parents divorced. It didn’t matter that tomorrow things would all go back to normal. Things were still tense, but no one had to walk on eggshells that night. The family, including my younger brother, who never really caught the baseball bug, watched together for the first time in years. One of my fondest memories is of Johnny Damon hitting that grand slam in Game 7 of the 2004 ALCS. We still rarely missed Red Sox games, but we watched in separate rooms. You never knew when you might find yourself on the receiving end of a drunken rage. Home, especially after 4 p.m., became a place of uncertainty. Then he lost two jobs in three years and started drinking heavily.Īfter that, there were no more trips to Fenway.
