I've spent much of the last week and a half screaming intermittently. Before you get all worked up, they have been screams of excitement: a few times every day, I remember that not only is Opening Day so close, I'm actually going to be there, and I simply have to vocally express my happiness.
Of course, I told all of my friends that I had tickets to Opening Day as soon as it happened, and they were happy for me, but they didn't really understand. They think they know the extent of my fandom - it's hard to ignore the constant wearing of Red Sox paraphenalia - but it's hard to truly express what this team means to me in terms that can be understood by those outside of Red Sox Nation.
My religion on Facebook is "Boston Red Sox." To put that in perspective, Merriam-Webster defines religion as "a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs." The beliefs? That the Red Sox are the best. Devotional and ritual observances? Buying hundreds of dollars worth of merchandise and tickets, and making the six-hour round trip to Fenway at a moment's notice. Moral code? Yankees suck. And voila! You've got yourself a religion!
In all seriousness, I spend more time thinking about the Red Sox than anything else: when I'm bored in class, I doodle field diagrams and possible lineups on my notebook.
My computer background is a rotating set of 20-something Red Sox pictures, including one of my favorites, which is especially fitting for today:
So, for those of you out there like me, who worship at the foot of the Green Monster, draw baseball doodles on your work, and scream intermittently (and increasingly frequently): HAPPY NEW YEAR! The wait is almost over!