Confessions of an Angry Red Sox Fan

I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.

Actually, that’s bull. I’m wicked mad.

Red Sox tickets went on sale at 10 a.m. EST on Saturday, and I dutifully got out of bed a little before 7 a.m. PST and got on my computer. And my phone. For four hours. And got nothing.

I couldn’t get through. The Web page refreshed and refreshed, only to keep putting me in the “virtual waiting room.” I re-dialed and re-dialed my phone, only to get busy signals. I watched as the final games of the season sold out. I saw games around the one I wanted get reduced to standing room only. I finally got through on the phone, only to find there were only scattered seating tickets left in the price range I wanted. There may have been $90 seats available, sure, but I was trying to buy tickets for my whole family, and $90 a ticket just wasn’t feasible. A few things in my apartment got kicked.

Fans of other teams don’t want to hear this complaining and I don’t blame them. They’ve endured the endless media chatter about the Sox, they’ve seen us win two World Series in four years, and they always hear us brag about Fenway, the “lyrical little bandbox of a ballpark.” Tough cookies if we can’t get tickets, what else do we want? But seriously, isn’t there something that can be done? Be it another, bigger stadium, a little less hype around the team or perhaps – just perhaps – fewer corporate giveaways that gobble up tickets and give them to out-of-town business clients who could care less about the game in front of them?

I wanted to take my family to a Red Sox game for my Dad’s 60th birthday this summer. It’s a Friday night game against the abysmal Orioles who the Sox play approximately 15,630 times each season. Five years ago, this would have been tough, but certainly not impossible. Now it’s impossible. And it sucks.