Amy Mantis



Baseball is designed to break your heart.  So whenever it doesn't, it's a glorious moment. 

I love you, Boston Red Sox.   Congratulations.  I am so so so so happy to be a part of this city and a part of Red Sox Nation.

See, baseball and music came into my life right around the same time.  It was the 2003 post-season when I really got into the Red Sox.  When they lost, it was tragic and my 13-year-old self couldn't quite believe that they lost all the time.  I was like, no.  Unacceptable.  I'm in on this now.  And then they won.  So you can thank me for that 2004 victory. 

I'm kidding, but baseball did come into my life at that point and has fit in snugly next to music.  My uncle joked that the reason I went to Berklee was so I could be as close to Fenway as possible.  He wasn't far off the mark.  One of my apartments was on Ipswich Street (the backdoor was) and it took me about five minutes to get to Gate B.  

I think I was definitely the biggest Red Sox fan at Berklee for at least two semesters.  Possibly four, and possibly six.  I spent many a night at Fenway - and many, many dollars. 

I don't know what it is about baseball, and more specifically, the Red Sox, that drew me in.  I make a lot of people mad by saying I hate the NFL, I don't care much about hockey, I like the Spurs almost as much as the Celtics, but I truly love baseball and the Red Sox. Love.  Not like.  It's a deep, deep love.

In Boston, it's almost a given that if you like one team, you like them all, and that you don't just like them, you love them.  People live and die by these teams, and bless them for it.  I live and die with one: the Boston Red Sox.

We all died in the 2012 season.  The 2013 season more than made up for it. 

Thank you, gentlemen.  No city deserved this more than Boston.  We love you forever.