Hatred Turns to Harmony

On Tuesday we were all Red Sox. (Credits: Kathy Willens/AP Photo)

I don't usually do this. My conservative up-bringing shies away from it. On this site I've never spoke of Sandusky, never spoke of Ocho Cinco's domestic violence, never commented on the Javon Belcher suicide, I left Lance Armstrong alone. But today, now today, I felt different about sharing my opinions. Maybe because it hit so close to home, maybe because it happened on one of the most celebratory days of the year in the city where I go to school.

The Bruins cancelled Monday's game, the Celtics followed suit on Tuesday. Moves that most approved of, seeing that playing a sporting event following a tragedy of these proportions seemed inappropriate. But life continued on for the rest of the sports world and continued in an especially unique way in New York.

There's a beautiful thing about sports in America. We form such a dominate, potent, wide-ranging and unique population that we can form long standing rivalries born out of our innate passion. Passionate is not a word to describe the average American. Passion runs in our blood, it's the base of our soul and the marrow to our bones. Sometimes this passion fuels disdain for another city, another state, even another town. Sometimes it brings out an ugly moment or two like the Giants fan who was beaten to death by Dodgers fans or like the time Steve Bartmann disappeared from the Earth because of continual death threats. Yet, these mistakes are a rarity, mere once and a blue moon incidents. We form these rivalries because on the inside we are the most competitive, hard-working people the world has ever seen. On the outside we may look frivolous, spoiled and greedy. But the true American reveals itself in trying times. The true American turns tragedy into triumph without a moment's notice.

Boston and New York might be the most passionate city-to-city rivalry in the United States. Celtics and Knicks. Pats and Giants. Bruins and Rangers. And most famously, Yankees and Sox. That brings me to last night. Earlier in the day yesterday, the Yankees released a statement saying they would share a special moment of silence and sing a Red Sox classic tune, "Sweet Caroline" in the third inning. A special motion by the Yankees, indeed. But then you actually heard the Yankees fans belt out their rivals favorite tune and chills were sent down your spine. And then you see the Yankees and Red Sox banners side-by-side, something that would've been heresy only three days ago, and you're left speechless. It was a momentous occasion.

As the New Yorker drew its patented cartoon on Tuesday to remember Monday's tragic event they got one thing slightly wrong. We weren't rooting for the Red Sox, we all were Red Sox. For Tuesday, all of us across the country wore the Boston "B" on our forehead, pronounced our "A's" in a different way and we all ran on Dunkin; again all of us were Red Sox. And we'll continue to be Red Sox until normalcy is restored. Once again that's the beautiful thing about America, we're powerful enough to have divides in almost every corner of the country, but we're also united enough to shelve those disconnects for a day, or a week, or for however long our fellow people need it. Not many other countries can say such a thing.

America might be a boiling pot of race, creed and color, but for a while it will simmer ever so slightly in wonderful unity in support of our fellow Americans in Boston.