Still my favorite story to tell about the 2004 WS, I found in an old database the story of Joesox coming to America. Enjoy:
PSF EDIT: Joesox and Tonysox are two Italian members
of Red Sox Nation. Joe became hooked on the Red Sox in 1986 after
catching some World Series games on Air Force television, and has been
a card-carrying (figuratively, of course) member of RSN since.
Whenever it appears the Sox may make the playoffs, Joe books a flight
to Boston to potentially partake in a long-awaited World Series victory
and celebration. 2003 was tough for Joe, having to cancel his
flight the day after Game 7.
Here is his story about his trip. Make sure to click on ‘Read
More’ to get the whole thing. I will add my commentary in bold
No words can describe our feelings.
Anyway trying to put down something we must begin from our flights. For
the second time in my life I was flying to Boston and for the second
time one of the planes broke down, literally. In 2001 our London-Boston
British Airways 747 had a major problem and we changed planes before
take off. Last week our Lufthansa flight from Trieste, Italy to Munich,
Germany took off but had to go back after about 15 minutes for
electrical problems. While landing back in Trieste the sight of the
firemen’s trucks checking their water hoses and spraying water around
was not a pretty view. Were we this close to crash down? We were
eventually rerouted to the following 3 flights: Trieste-Milan,
Milan-Newark and Newark-Boston. While originally we were supposed to
land at Logan at 2:00 pm (on the day of Game 4 of the World Series),
now with the proposed reschedule we would be in Boston only at 8:50 pm,
so with the game already in progress.
Never mind. We stuck with the plan. We were going to Boston.
What Lufthansa failed to do, Alitalia delivered. We got to Newark
perfectly on time at 6:20 pm, about two hours before first pitch (this
is Game 4, remember and it was the clincher…looking back I had no
doubts, as the Sox were in such a roll that I couldn’t see them losing
Now it was American Airlines turn to let us down as the flight to
Boston was delayed first by about one hour and by almost two hours soon
afterwards. At this point we would have been in Boston at 10:30 pm at
the earliest, barring further delays, with a great chance to miss most,
if not all of the game. Not a nice perspective.
So Tony suggested to hire a car and drive north. I was not really sure
about the idea. Driving through New York? And to where? That’s when I
really thought about PSF.
We decided to go for it, again. Interstate 95, here we come.
Whoever is familiar, and I am not, with the NJ-NY area probably knows
that driving from Newark, NJ to Portland, Connecticut is not a walk in
the park especially at 7 pm on a weekday. At least that was my guess.
It was busy, but not too bad and actually quite straight. Anyway we did
take a wrong turn in Middletown, Connecticut (about 5 miles from PSF’s
home) but that was about it. We had the game on the radio and got
Damon’s homer in the state of New York, just around Mamaroneck, N.Y.,
and Trot’s two run double near Bridgeport, Connecticut.
In the meantime Lowe was cruising mowing down Cardinal after Cardinal.
We got into a traffic jam around New Haven and lost about 20-25 minutes
there. Once in Portland we called PSF’s mobile. We drove another mile
and stormed into his friendly home. It was during the fifth inning.
Sharing the rest of the game with him and his wife, and "still awake"
child (3 1/2 years old), was really wonderful. Actually much much
better than being in a Boston pub surrounded by strangers as we had
originally planned to do. The rest as they say, it’s history.
(He means this quite literally, they stormed my home. Here I
am, the 5th inning of Game 4 of the World Series, and my cell phone
rings. It has been ringing all night, so this isn’t odd.
What was odd was that the caller ID showed a Portland, CT number that I didn’t recognize. "Who could be calling me NOW?" I thought.
When I answered the phone, it was a strange man with an Italian
accent. Keep in mind, I’ve never met Joe before. I’ve been
chatting online with him for about 5 years now, but that’s it.
Caught up in the spirit of the Sox about to win, and the Sam
Oktoberfest coursing through my veins (and much to the horror of my
wife), I told them to come right over and watch the end of the game in
my living room. Which they did. And they shared my
celebratory champagne. And they crashed at my house before
continuing their journey to Boston in the morning.
Renteria swings, a ground ball, stabbed by Foulke, he underhands it to
Mientkiewicz and the Red Sox are the champions of baseball.
Exactly, it’s only baseball. But it was unforgettable and it will be.
And thinking about the great bunch of idiots I must say that was a true
team effort. At least 24 players on the roster made at one stage or
another during the amazing playoff run a decisive contribution. Think
about every one of them and one or more big plays will immediately come
to mind: it could be Roberts’s steal, Damon’s grand slam, Schilling’s
bloody sock or Foulke’s 100 pitches in three days and so on.
What had started (still in my bed and the radio with Pedro and the Sox
winning Game 3) early Tuesday morning ended in Portland something like
27 hours later with the Sox as world champions.
I need to thank a lot of people. First of all my wife and my kids, then
tonysox and his wife; psf and his family for their wonderful
hospitality, Fanatic (thank you very much!), then lots of other Sox
fans and psf.commers, rich, dannycater (some we met, some of course
not) and many others, flight attendants, airports staff, the US Customs
(we had to give them our fingerprints! but it was actually quite
quick), jeez I am going too far here, everyone. We had a great time at
the parade. We visited different parts of Boston and went down to NY.
We took pictures of Yankee Stadium with our Red Sox baseball caps on.
No, we didn’t dare to wear them in the Bronx or in the subway. There
were a lot of Benny Blancos around. No trace of mbf. He was in
Philadelphia. Go figure.
We really enjoyed our trip across the pond. We had the best breakfast
in the world (Eggs Elizabeth) at O’Rourke’s (Middletown, CT) and drove to Fenway on the
following morning and we bumped into Manny Ramirez, no kidding, I have
the picture. We bought the T-shirts, we had the lobster, the clam
chowder, but more of anything we brought home the big prize, we brought
home the bacon. We were hoping for a John Kerry win, too.
But I guess I can wait another 4 years for a Democrat at the White House. Now what? Iran, Syria? Sorry that’s another memo…
So what? As Rock said that’s 6 World Series titles. With Theo at the
helm I can see them winning more in the next 10 years. A total of 10 WS
titles by 2014? Maybe sooner? Maybe more? Can you spell the word
dynasty? I am not satisfied, I want to beat the Yankees year in and
year out. No letting down. The target has to be 27 titles. One more
So. It was great. It was unforgettable. And to that clueless Verizon
operator: YES, to call Italy what I need is an International call, and
NO, Italy is not one of the 50 states, I can’t give you an area code
only, you will need an international code too, but YES, I am a member
of Red Sox Nation.
Confused? Me too, especially after all that Guinness. That’s all Foulke.
What Joe glosses over is that we met up again for the parade.
There was a group of about 8 of us hanging out at Kinsale’s watching
the parade on TV and waiting for it to reach us. We got in there
about 8:30 AM. By 10:00 AM we had circulated the story of Joesox
and Tonysox, and they were mini-legends at the bar. They even got
interviewed by a Boston radio station.
Here is a picture at Kinsale’s of us: