Here’s how most of us did Saturday.

We watched on television the rolling rally as it headed toward our neck of the woods. Then, about 10 minutes or so before it was near us we left our houses, apartments and condominiums and streamed with dozens of neighbors toward Boylston or Tremont or Cambridge streets or over to the river to see the Red Sox in all their glory.

It was quite a scene. Everyone had on Red Sox gear. A few fans held signs: “Papi for Mayor.” Guys held their girls on their shoulders so the ladies could see over the crowd. Pieces of red, white and blue paper, designed to float as long as possible in the air, poured from confetti cannons. Near us a man, apparently having fled from Mass General in time to see the team creep by, was decked out in his hospital johnny, which was flapping over his bare backside.

Helicopters buzzed, whirred, throbbed and chopped overhead, and at least two airplanes pulled banners. The crowd blew horns, clapped and cheered. We’re in this together in our joy at our team’s success, even if we aren’t die-hard fans. Our city is cool. Our city is a winner.

And all we had to do in the area of this newspaper’s readership was to walk out the door and over a few blocks. When we live downtown, coming together is easy. Continue reading →