The Curse of the Bambino or How the Sox Finally End It

It has been said that the Red Sox are part of the patrimony of the New England; generation after generation has inherited a fidelity to the cause of the men of Fenway, known throughout New England as The Sox. The Red Sox are as much a part of that historic corner of the American nation as the mountains, lakes, and shoreline that so graphically characterize it. The focal point of this devotion is Fenway Park, the small, old, oddly shaped home field of the Red Sox since April 20, 1912. Built for a game that feeds off its own history, that follows a seamless course through the years, Fenway is an ideal place to watch baseball, where one can sit comfortably with the shadows of George Herman Babe Ruth, Jimmie Foxx, Ted Williams, Johnny Pesky, Carl Yastrzemski, Jim Rice, Carlton Fisk, Wade Boggs, Roger Clemens and all other titans who have passed this way. Every Red Sox fan is a shareholder in that history, possesses an anchorage in that past, and holds a ticket in the future. Through their long and unpredictable history the Red Sox have been many things: triumphant, exciting, and gallant, as well as frustrating and disappointing. Through all personnel changes that baseball teams must necessarily undergo, they have never failed to exude a certain charm that is rare in any athletic endeavor. These are the qualities of the Boston Red Sox, one of the ongoing enchantments of New England.