Hope springs from fall classic

I love baseball. To me, it's a game filled with magic, wonder and heartache. Baseball is the only sport that could have made the movie "The Natural" work. Roy Hobbs could not have been shot in the gut by a mysterious woman as a young prospect and then return years later as a middle-aged basketball player. He couldn't sit in a hospital bed and be told that the same bullet from all those years ago could kill him if he played again, then look into Glen Close's eyes and say, "God, I love hockey." Baseball can make you believe in anything. Even in the Red Sox. Even in yourself.

2004 was one of the best years in Boston Red Sox history. It was not such a good year for me. As the team that I have loved ever since I knew what baseball was began their run to a championship, my life began a downward spiral. For starters, I was a whale. I was a large man. Now while I had never been a small man, I had never been this BIG. Since 2000, I had put on over 80 pounds. Oddly enough, this was the same time frame that I had been with my girlfriend/roommate. I believe the term is comfort food.

While the Red Sox were getting off to a hot start in April, posting a 15-6 win-loss record, I decided I needed to curb my balloon-like swelling. It was low carb diet time. Two weeks in, the program was going well and I was seeing results. Then, as I was eating at a restaurant one night, sitting by the bar enjoying a sirloin, broccoli and a bourbon and diet coke, I noticed my heartbeat was not right. Turns out, if you've had heart problems before (which I had), you've got to be real careful about the diet you choose.

Baseball is a sport of losing. In baseball, the best teams lose 60+ times a year. The best hitters only get a hit three out of ten at-bats. Relating to a loser was easy for me. The Red Sox were making it really easy, posting a 27-28 record for May and June. During this time, it became clear that my four-year relationship with my girlfriend was over. We had been having our differences for a while. The only thing we seemed to agree on was that neither one of us could stand to be around me. I spent my time just lying around, because that's what a beached sea mammal does, and she spent all her free time away from me. I met her friends, they were nice if you like hanging around with people who play with guns and knives while drunk and talk about skinning cats. Since I wasn't a fan of these hobbies, I suggested

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