The curse of the what?

With all of this baseball knowledge you might think I like baseball.  I do not.   Baseball to me is like watching paint dry.  Baseball was just the white noise in the background of my childhood.  I did not know the name of any baseball team, leagues or what a pennant race was.

That was when my husband, the guy who stayed in the Needham Sheraton while I schlepped the kids up from Jersey, told me about the Curse of the Bambino.    I had no idea what he was talking about.   For those of you who are in the same boat I was in, here is a quick run down.  The story goes that after the Red Sox sold Babe Ruth to the Yankees in 1919 they began their 86 year dry spell.  The Yankees, on the other hand, went from a not so great team to what is known in these parts as the Evil Empire.
I had just one question
"You mean you just moved me to a state where the people believe their baseball team is cursed?"   His one word answer, "Yup".

Yes, I had been transferred to a place where litttle boys wearing Yankee baseball jackets were subject to rude remarks and the people making those remarks believed their baseball club was cursed.  
You cannot make this stuff up.

Times have changed.  I no longer sign my christmas cards Still in exile.   I know the name of the Massachusetts baseball team is the Boston Red Sox and the curse has been lifted.  My son has long become a die hard Red Sox fan and cannot BELIEVE I ever put a Yankee jacket on him .  Although I still try to know as little about baseball as I possibly can.  However, that is pretty hard when you've lived in a place for 19 years where baseball is life and it's name is The Boston Red Sox.



Take me out to the ballgame on PhotoPeach

In the shadow of Yankee Stadium

I should tell you that I'm Puerto Rican.  My parents came to the US in the early 50's.  Most people think of Lady Liberty  when they talk about people comming to the United States.

                                                   

Not PRs... the Bronx is the Motherland away from the Motherland. 


                                             

Like all good Puerto Ricans my parents went to the Bronx, along with ALL of my aunts and uncles.  Later Mom and Dad moved to Long Island.  The rest of the family stayed in the Bronx where all things Puerto Rican could be found; language,  food, TV and of course sports.   Football and soccer are not important sports in Puerto Rico.  I truly doubt that a lacrosse team exists on the island let alone a hockey rink.  But baseball, now you are talkin'.   So you can imagine how excited my brothers were to be spending the summers at my aunt's apartment in THE BRONX.  Sure, all those other kids from Long Island got to go to summer camp.  They swam, camped, had fresh air.  We got to spend the summer in the shadow of Yankee Stadium in the Bronx.   This was the house that Ruth built.  Not the homage to capitalism built by Steinbrenner. 
                                                        

It was also the 60's.  The time of some Yankee greats like Mikey Mantel , Yogi Berra and his famous quotes like "If you see a fork in the road, take it" and "The towels were so thick I could hardly close my suite case.  And let' not forget Roger Maris and his 61 hits. 

                                   

Years later.......

With all that history you can imaging how happy my brother was to give his youngest nephew an cute little blue baseball jacket with the Yankee emblem on it.  The one I put on my little boy the day we went to  visit the Children's Museum in Boston, Massachusetts.

But it was such a cute jacket

Well, Labor Day came around and everyone came home.   I did meet some people who told me I should take my children to the famous Children's Museum  in Boston.  By this time it was late September and the weather had turned just a bit chilly.  To keep my little three year old boy warm I put a cute blue jacket on him.  Let's not forget folks that I'm in front of the Children's Museum, ergo there are a lot of kids running around.  Any one who has ever seen a three year old will tell you that these are very intimidating humans.  Be afraid, be very afraid.   These small children are so intimidating that grown men must glare at them and make rather rude remarks.  Grrrrr

When I returned home that day I told my husband of the very unpleasant experience in my new city.   I repeated the warm greetings hurled at me, my little boy and my little girl who was a whole five years old at the time.   We were a very mean looking group.  My beloved  had one question.  "Was he wearing that jacket?" he asked as he pointed to our son.

The cute little navy blue jacket given to him by his uncle.  The perfect jacket for a not so cold day, just a little chilly.  Of course he was wearing that jacket!

I walk the dawg and I don't drink cawfee.

Right about now you might be wondering where the Yankees and the  Red Sox are going to come in to this diatribe.  Not to worry, I'm getting to that .

Norfolk is such a lovely town in July.  Theres are lots of tree lined streets to ride bikes on.  Pond Street Recreation area is available for tennis, basketball and ball field for a pick up game of baseball (insert laugh here).  There is also Lake Pearl in Wrentham for swimming.  Justs one problem for an out of towner... nobody's here, they're all on the Cape.
You know the Cape.  The place where if you are a true New Englander you either have a house on the Cape, or your parents have a house on the Cape.  If not your mom and dad then your aunt, uncle, third cousin twice removed who you only met once at a christening when you were two years old has a house on the Cape and you spend the WHOLE SUMMER THERE.  So NOBODY is around, just a lot of spooky, empty houses...

The start

It's been almost 20 years since a big yellow truck dropped  all of my belongings in a house in Norfolk, MA.  I was very happy living in Freehold, New Jersey when my husband came in and said "Hi honey.  How would you like to move to Massachusetts?".   Never having been to Massachusetts it seemed like a strange question.  Turns out we'd just been transferred to Massachusetts.   For those of you who have never had the joy of being transferred let me walk you through the process.

First your husband says "Honey I got a new job with the company!"  Then he drops the bomb and tells you that the job is actually  in  another state.  But don't worry  the Company will relocate you.  (Ya gotta love Siemens USA.)   Your beloved will then say  "Bye honey" as the phone begins to ring.    The first of many, many, many, many times.     

Next thing you know an army of men jump out of a  United Van Lines truck the size of a football field and start to pack up your entire house.  This will also include any dirty laundry you didn't get to do while your husband has been living in a Sheraton Hotel and you've been home with the kids.  If you have any luck at all these will be small children with plenty of  stained clothes.

The truck leaves with the dirty clothes as you say goodbye to your family, friends and neighbors.

Did I forget to mention that you have only lived in the house for one year.  That it was your dream house where you thought your children would grow up so you cemented the swing set in the backyard only to wave it goodbye less then 11 months later. You will  then hop in your car with a smile on your face and drive for the next 5 hours to a place you have never been.  With you will be two small children who have even smaller bladders and you will have no idea where the rest stops are.  Who says life is not exciting!

NORFOLK, MASSACHUSETTS OR BUST-  But isn't Norfok in Virginia?