A companion piece to "World Series: Fairfield" in "Who's The Boss?"
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Cheers was beyond standing room only; everyone who couldn't get in to Fenway tonight was milling around every screen that could be found in a communal setting. If the Sox were going to win a World Series on their home field for the first time since 1918, people wanted to be somewhere with other people and where the champagne would flow.
Diane Chambers nudged her way through the crowd trying to deliver beer and other assorted libations to the baseball fans. The bar itself hadn't changed much since she first walked in over 30 years ago. The decorations had; to say the last decade or so had been a banner decade for Boston sports was an understatement. Photos of Super Bowl winning teams, World Series winning teams, an NBA championship winning team, and a Stanley Cup winning team now lined the walls; along with various pennants and paraphernalia.
When Diane returned to Cheers after trying her hand at so many other paths in life; she made the best of it. She told herself that life had a way of knocking the pretensions out of oneself and working here still gave her the opportunity to write; so she saw her work as a way of supporting her creative activities, and someday, maybe someday, she would publish. No matter what, she had expanded her horizons and learned something about sports. Not only could she could even name the Patriots starting quarterback; she knew the quarterback's role on the team.
The game had started, the crowd in the bar was yelling; when the door opened, she could even hear the crowd at Fenway yelling.
Sam was calling to her from behind the bar. They had re-established a flirtatious relationship; it was one that neither had any further expectations regarding, so it worked. She and Carla would never be close, but had established a semi-truce. Cliff and Norman still held down the stools at the end of the bar, cheering on their teams and drinking beer. Everyone hoped for a win tonight, Boston deserved a reason to celebrate.
"Hey, Diane; take these over to table five, will ya?" Sam pushed over a couple of beers.
"Sure, Sam," she said. It was a testament to how well Diane finally fit in as no one blinked an eye when she yelled, "go Sox!" on the way to the table.
The excitement in the bar was building with each pitch; would there be another Duck Boat parade in Boston? Or would there be more disappointment? Diane finally understood that life was to be found not only in books, but in community as well.