There's Only One Soxtober

When I woke up this morning, it was forty-three degrees in Hartford. I looked out the window, and the big maple tree on the lawn was brindled in red and gold. Fall is my favorite season, and it's officially here.

Full disclosure: Autumn was my favorite season before I was even aware that there was such a thing as Major League Baseball. ( I'm from the White Mountains in New Hampshire, and there's no foliage that can beat our foliage.)


When I was a little kid, my favorite thing to do was play in the piles of leaves in my front yard, at least until I got a rake handed to me at the age of six. However, when I discovered the wonderful world of the Boston Red Sox, my favorite time of year took on a whole new meaning.

Because I'm on the younger side, my first Sox related heartbreak was in 2003: Tim Wakefield is the classiest man I can think of, and the look on his face as he walked off the mound that night at Yankee Stadium broke my heart. Of course, what happened just a short year later all but erased that from the collective psyche of New England, but the excitement of the season is a constant.

Every year, when I feel the crispness start to creep into the air, and leaves begin to get the slightest tinge of yellow, I look forward to Soxtober (the only other franchise that can rival that catchphrase? Colorado, with "Rocktober"). NESN is right: I live for this.

Remember when Dane Cook was the height of cool? Still, this ad gives me goosebumps - in a good way.