This One Hurts

Last night when baseball's worst team took a 2-0 lead against us, my dad shook his head and said, "This is not a championship team." This was a thought that really made an shook me. Something I hadn't even consitered. And then the harsh reality of it began to settle in. As an optimistic person and a Red Sox fan, every year I have faith that my team is the best, that my team has what it takes to win championships. That's what a Red Sox fan does. Though our pitching is shaky, we have two co-aces in our rotation and a phenominal closer, with a handful of promising young arms. Our defense is the best in the majors. Our lineup is stocked with solid hitters and the huge power boost of Manny, Ortiz, and recently Wily Mo Pena. And all this is nice, but we're not winning games right now. And with the Yankees back to their winning ways, we need to be. Wins and losses are the only thing that count. These Royals are the worst team in baseball. We need to sweep them. Injuries have nothing to do with it. We still need to win. And you know what else? It's really not much fun when we're losing. Having lost the last three, and six of the last ten, my mind is beginning to wander away from the Sox. Because, really, what's fun about watching your team slip in the standings? And though I faithfully watch every game, cheer for every base hit, and mimic the pitchers' fist pumps with every strikeout they record, there's a sinking feeling in my stomach every time I go to bed after a loss.
I hope it's not true, but I fear that my dad is right.
Please, Beckett, prove me wrong tonight.