I've only been here in Boston for, oh, a couple of decades. While I enjoyed the region's collective delirium when the Red Sox finally reversed the curse, I'm an October fan, not a real one.
But my wife is a real fan, dating back pre-natally. She lives and dies with each Sox at bat. She would snarl and growl if a Yankees fan came anywhere near our house. As you can imagine, right now, there is no joy in our corner of Mudville.
Last week, our 8-year-old startled us with this phrase: "It's a pre-2004 Red Sox nightmare!," which would have been, oh, before he was born.
But of course, he's right.