Why Won't The Red Sox Win?

i didn't mean to turn this into craig's-emotional-release-because-he-so-desperately-wants-the-red-sox-to-win-the-world-series-this-year column. i'm sorry. you know how it is though. you want them to win so bad it hurts. it literally hurts. you can feel the want in your body. in your guts. like the desire for them to win is almost tangible. you can taste it. you can smell it. drink it. it manifests itself into a person. the "want" is an actual friend. or foe. i can't decide. but it's there.


i walk down the hall speaking animatedly to - nothing? nobody's there. what is craig doing? why is he having a conversation with no one? what's going on?

"craig? are you alright?" asks the cute intern girl at the desk with confused if not concerned eyes. "who were you talking to just then?"

"oh! who me? heh, heh." i mutter with a self-conscious smile. "um, i was just talking to my invisible friend here. i call him red. red sox. kind of like red auerbach. only instead of being a real person who coached the celtics to nine world championships, mine is an apparitional friend who i call mr. red sox. his nickname is 'want.' or 'mr. want' for those who may not know him that well. you know - every OTHER baseball fan in america. only boston fans know him REAL well. he represents my deep-seeded longing for a championship. it's not weird is it cute intern girl? i need to talk to him. i do. you understand, right?"

i walk away with my head down stammering vituperatively to red. what can we do red? what needs to happen for us to win? can i help in any way red? and why the f do you always show up when i'm at work and people can see me talking to you?!?!

cute intern girl stares as i limp away. she wears a visage of half horror, half sympathy. like she's watching a patient through the tinted glass mirror in a mental asylum. poor bastard she thinks. she gets asked out on a date by kenny, the copy boy, later in the day. she giggles and says yes, of course she would love to go.

"i can't wait kenny!"

later that night i sit and watch the boston nine take the field with my good pal red. cute intern girl and kenny go out to a nauseatingly romantic french cafe for dinner. they drink wine and laugh. they experience unnaturally terrific conversation. they laugh more. they drink more. ha, ha! sip, sip. hee, hee! glug, glug. kenny calls for another caraf of their finest burgundy. red and i glare at the television set through our fingers covering our eyes as nick no-name on the worst team in the bigs and batting ninth launches an impossible blast over the center field wall as the sox pitcher-du-jour treats his glove to a particularly irascible tongue-lashing. across town kenny is helping cute intern girl into his shiny, expensive sports car. intern girl is flirting and smiling. kenny drives fast as his date sidles up next to him. the top comes off of the car. the top comes off of the girl. kenny puts a smarmy arm around cute intern girl as he winks with a rakish grin.

"you know that guy craig? from work?" intern girl shouts into the warm night wind whistling over the car.

"no."

"what a weird guy. i saw him talking to some imaginary friend today. he tried to explain what it was all about, but it was kind of creepy. i feel bad for him. it was sad."

"oh him! yeah, i've seen that weirdo walking around the office. i always thought he was talking to himself," kenny offers.

"nope. she says. "it's his 'special' friend, red."

"sounds like a real asshole to me. what an idiot." kenny doesn't understand. he tightens his grip on the beautiful girl. his foot presses down still harder on the gas. the night is perfect. kenny's never had an imaginary friend. kenny has never needed to personify his desire into an actual "being." kenny is hubristic. he's smugly confident. he's arrogant because he always gets what he wants. he's pretentious. girls seem to love him. he is reminded of this as he glances briefly at the gorgeous girl sitting next to him topless as they speed effortlessly through the twilight to nowhere in particular. kenny is sexy. kenny is cool. kenny is charming. kenny is witty. kenny is dashing.

kenny is a yankees fan.