Insidious

Last week, there were some feature stories in the news about how Red Sox tickets- pretty much unattainable for the last three years or so, are suddenly really easy to get. The Sox streak of home game sellouts may actually be at risk. When I heard that, I was dismissive. There's no way, I thought, that the Sox fan base would just completely jump ship like that. A market like the Sox front office has developed doesn't just suddenly become elastic like that. The Sox had become like the Green Bay Packers, or like cigarettes. The demand, the loyal base, was secure.

Then this weekend came around, and I have to say I'm beginning to understand the phenomenon, at least in this case. The fall winds started blowing, and the smell of the baseball playoffs was not among them. It was Labor Day weekend, which in this part of the state means the Woodstock Fair and all of its overpriced rides, oddly ubiquitous plastic Spiderman balloons and fair food (I mean "Fair" food, not "fair" in the poor-excellent scale. It is, of course, both poor and excellent at the same time- that's why it's Fair food). The New England Patriots season is starting soon. The UConn Huskies basketball season is just around the corner. The elections are coming up. School just started for the kids. In other words, there's other stuff to think about. Maybe going to a game isn't your top priority all of a sudden.

But who are these fair-weather fans? Do they deserve to be a part of Red Sox Nation? If I had the financial wherewithal, I'd like to think I'd be heading out to Fenway on a regular basis, even in this slump. I'm still a die-hard fan, right? I'm the one that just got the Sox tattoo, right?

I'll be honest, though- this weekend, I followed the games, but it was with something just beyond a passing interest. I didn't sit riveted. The games sort of lent themselves to a passing interest, though. They split four games with the Blue Jays, and slipped a bit in the division. The highlights for the weekend were certainly Kyle Snyder's brilliant pitching on Friday- seven innings, no runs- and the return of Varitek, Nixon, and Gonzalez. Wily Mo Pena made an appearance, and there are rumors of the returns of both Manny and Papi. To say the least, this offense has completely tanked without those two in the lineup. That may actually be a point in Papi's favor when the MVP vote happens.

The low points were more injuries. Jon Lester has cancer. I understand it's the good type of cancer- a very treatable lymphoma- but that's really like saying someone has the good type of cancer. Seriously. Also, Jonathan Papelbon's arm may be falling off, and Curt Schilling has a boo-boo on his lat (what the hell is a lat?) and is missing tonight's start. In his place will be...Julian Tavarez. Let's file that under bad news for now.

The larger point is that all of this mediocrity, these injuries, the utter listlessness of the Sox team right now brings Vaclav Havel to mind. What, it doesn't make you think of Havel? Really? Hmm...

Well, anyway, it makes me think of Havel. In his role as a dissident/playwright (and maybe even a bit as President of the Czech Republic) he brilliantly described the "insidious nature of totalitarian states." He talked about how the little inconveniences, the tiny incremental encroachments on privacy or decision-making, very quickly piled up and became the accepted, unquestioned norm for the general public. When we hear about people in communist countries waiting six hours in a line to get toilet paper, we were appalled. How could this be? How can they take it? It made us so angry and righteous we wanted to jump right out of our cars and hug the person behind us in the mile-long drive-through line at Dunkin' Donuts and praise the lord we live in a free country.

The point is that these things can sneak up on you, and little things- collectively and gradually- can cause a change in mindset and view of the world. Just last week, I was outraged that Sox fans could be so inconstant as to abandon their precious Fenway tickets at the first sniff of a lost season. I gotta tell you, though- after this weekend with its uninspiring baseball and its very inspiring sausage-and-pepper grinders and ferris wheels, it's not such a hard thing to understand at all.