Throughout my life, I have always been an extremely huge Boston Red Sox baseball fan, and in 2004, before they won the World Series for the first time after 86 years, going to Fenway Park was my dream. Many young girls dream of becoming a princess, or owning a pony, but not me. My dream was something that every Red Sox fan, and maybe even a non-fan, has once wanted in their lifetime. This dream was so dear to my heart, that I wanted nothing more than to go to Fenway Park in Boston, Massachusetts. Since I was a young girl, I have worked hard to get what I want, overcoming whatever obstacle to succeed. I longed to go to Fenway, except I was too young to purchase tickets on my own. I used every part of my will power to have tickets miraculously end up in my hands, but having tickets to a game was an obstacle that I could not overcome. My family never got tickets to go to a game that year, the year that they won the ever-so-longed-for World Series win. That year, I had never wanted anything more than to go to Fenway Park. Though that did not happen, the Red Sox did indeed win the World Series. A sign from the Baseball Gods. Could my will power have caused their World Series win? I knew for sure, in my heart, that I needed to go see the inside of Fenway Park in person, and not just on a television screen.
A year later, in 5th grade, my father finally was able to purchase tickets for the two of us to attend a game. Unfortunately, the game got cancelled due to rain. Another year passed, and in 6th grade, another wonderful opportunity came within my grasps. I would finally have my first trip to Fenway Park, a trip that every Red Sox fan will remember for the rest of their lives. But sadly, no, my time did not come. Another game, another rain out. Another season, another loss. I had given up all hope in wanting to go to Fenway Park, and hope in my team. I hoped, I got, I lost, so there was no more point in hoping. But I couldn’t just give up! This was my dream. I urged my father to purchase tickets one more time, to give Mother Nature one more chance. And he did.

On April 22, 2007, I attended my first Red Sox game at Fenway Park, a history making game against the New York Yankees, the Boston Red Sox’s biggest rival. This time, it did not rain. The weather was beautiful, the breeze just right, and the warmth just warm enough. When we, my mother, my father, and I, arrived at Gate D after walking aimlessly around the perimeter of Fenway Park four times, we walked past security and into a realm of magic. Yes, magic. Fenway is the most magical place a person will ever be able to go to. At Gate D, there is a staircase that a fan has to make their way up in order to reach the seats. That day, I walked every step slowly, absorbing the cement and vibe from the park beneath my olive green Converse sneakers. With each step, I held my breath. This was what I had been waiting for. Slowly, I reached the top of the staircase and the outfield came into view. Slowly, the field got bigger until I could see every single blade of grass coming together to make one big velvet sea of green. I was finally at my home. I exhaled and I was at a loss for words. I stared out into the sea of green, and at the brown diamond on the field. I knew exactly where I was, but at the same time, I had no idea what was going on. I did not realize what was happening until I heard the sound of a bat crack during batting practice before the game. I was at Fenway Park. I squealed. I jumped. I spun around looking at all the amazing things before my eyes.

That day, Daisuke Matsuzaka won his first game pitching in a Red Sox uniform, and the Boston Red Sox made history by becoming one of the five teams in Major League Baseball to have ever hit four consecutive home runs. They went on to win the game 7-6, and later, went on to become the 2007 World Series champions.

I have never been, nor am I still, a superstitious person, but when it comes to baseball, I use every good luck trick in the book. In 2004, I had never wanted anything more than to go to my first Red Sox game at Fenway. Though that did not happen, the Red Sox won the World Series. In 2005 and 2006, the dream stayed alive, but was crushed because of rain outs, and so going to Fenway Park became a forgotten need. I lost hope in myself and in my team, and they ended up never going to the World Series those two years. Yet, 2007 came along, and all doubts were pushed aside. I will never give up on my Boston Red Sox ever again. In fact, I have made it a goal of mine to attend at least one Red Sox baseball game at Fenway Park every year since 2007, and so far, I have succeeded in my goal. Before every game, I walk around the perimeter of Fenway Park four times, exactly as I did on April 22, 2007. All eight games that I have attended since then have been winners, except one. The only losing game that I have ever been to was a game when I did not walk around the perimeter of Fenway Park four times. A game in 2011, the year that the Boston Red Sox had one of the most epic collapses in baseball history, winning only seven games out twenty-eight in the month of September, causing them to miss the playoffs that everyone thought they would make. The year that, a few days after the season ended, the Boston Red Sox lost their manager of eight years, the first manager in Red Sox history to bring home the first World Series ring and trophy after 86 years of losing; the manager that broke the Curse of the Big Bambino, and brought home another win two years later. It all went downhill from there and maybe, all because I did not walk around the perimeter of Fenway Park four times.

I am not the only Boston Red Sox baseball fan out there who has rituals and superstitions regarding the team and the sport, but to say mine are meaningless and have no effect on the team whatsoever is an extreme understatement.