If the sea of red in this image is evoking any memories from the catacombs of your mind, they are likely from a brisk October afternoon 4 years ago.  In full disclosure, despite the snarky indifference displayed in my last post, I’m happy for this fan base.

Oh, but I’m sure the party in Tampa would be just a vibrant had the Rays won.  The buzz of 300 motorized wheelchairs in Ybor City would have been louder than a swarm of 17-year-cicadas, am I right?

Look, if there’s a bright side to the outcome of the playoffs this year, it is that I (and most other Red Sox fans) have found a new team to hate.  Don’t get me wrong, I still hate our hairy-backed cousins in the Bronx just as much as I did in October of 2003.  I’m simply evolving.  I’m learning that my hatred is an equal opportunity emotion, and I can spread it around the map like acrylic paint.  My hatred does not discriminate based on race, gender, religion, sexual orientation, and lest of all…age.  If the Rays fan base happens to have the same median age as that collection of buffalo nickles I keep in a cedar box in my attic, I will not hate them any less than I do the loudmouthed tri-state area troglodytes.

Mildred from Bradenton?  Ebenezer from Thonotosassa?  Take this as fair warning.  You will be frequent targets of my acerbic wit in 2009.