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Get ready for chowdah season

Bleacher Views

In Boston, you don’t drink the Kool-Aid, you swallow the Red Sox “chowdah.” Youngsters, used to winning World Series and bringing home Super Bowl trophies, may not know the feeling. But we old timers, we know what that “chowdah” tastes like, and we keep trying to swear off it.

Still, we swallow it, hook, line and clamshell, over and over again. Our Puritan ancestors would have figured we were paying for some past sin, but I think it just comes with the territory.

Let me try to give a hint of what the whole thing feels like. Say you were getting married. You had reserved the green church on the Fens for the occasion. The reception reservations were all set. The food was ordered, and the champagne was on ice.

Came the big day, and you walked up to the altar at home plate, hoping that everything would go according to plan but having this itchy feeling at the back of your neck — you know, that creepy, crawly little niggle that said, “Don’t count your trophies before their time and always expect the other foot to fall. You are, after all, a New Englander.”

And just as it seems that things might work out, your spouse-to-be tugs at your arm and says, “You know, this is not what I meant at all. This is not it, at all.”  (OK, maybe Prufrock said it first, but it sounds better than what I can come up with.)

Then, “POOF.” You look around, and the big green church on the Fens is empty, the guests have gone home, the dugouts are deserted, and the season is just plain over and done with.

And you are looking around in consternation and saying, “What happened? Where did everyone go? We have all this champagne, and I’m all dressed up.”

Oh well, that’s life in the big city by the airport. I guess we have to light up the hot stove and wait for next year. It’s not like we haven’t done that before, but this was such a nice run, and it would have made such a nice story.

“BOOM.” Did you hear that, I think it was the sound of the other foot. Chowdah anyone?

 

Millerton resident and Maine native Theodore Kneeland is a former teacher and coach — and athlete.

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