When I read this post.
Every Red Sox fan has a different story, and yet it's also the same story. Part of that story--an essential part of that story--is the Red Sox and your Dad, forever inseparable.
As a commenter on the post wrote, "It's really amazing when you think about sports, and how a team is so important to so many obsessed individuals spanning generations... players and fans come and go but that uniform stays the same."
The Red Sox are unimportant compared to someone's father...and yet, in the context of someone's father, they are more than important. They're a symbol for everything he means, everything family and home and heritage mean. And sometimes--crucially--that uniform's the only thing that stays the same. That's how the Red Sox have become a religion and a tradition and a subculture.
Rest in peace to Red's dad. And Red? Your friends inside the computer are here, if you should happen to need us. For anything.