Red Sox, Meet the Mets

Boston's sports fans are notoriously hyperbolic and wildly spoiled during the past 10 years, so as much as I like following sports, I take such great pleasure when one of the four major teams here collapses. Cue the Red Sox, whose September is eerily reminiscent of the 2007 and 2008 versions the Mets: The team had a nine-game lead for the wild card on Sept. 3, led the A.L. East shortly before that, and were all but guaranteed to qualify for the playoffs, until they couldn't stop losing. After tonight's loss, they're only two games ahead of Tampa Bay for the wild card, with all of their momentum heading in the completely wrong direction. Even if they make the playoffs, it's hard to imagine them winning a series.

Rooting for the Mets is a perennial exercise in frustration, where little goes as planned. This once used to be true of Sox fandom, when the team was best known for its 80-plus years without winning the World Series and repeated catastrophic collapses. But since about 1998, the Sox have actually been quite good, with above-average records, multiple playoff appearances and baseball history's longest consecutive streak of sellouts. This month has been a total reversal: injuries have left the starting rotation embarrassingly thin; the bullpen is managed on the philosophy that everyone is removed at the first sign of trouble and pitchers barely last more than two-thirds of an inning; when the hitting is good, the pitching isn't and vice versa; and the losses come in breathtakingly disappointing ways. Maybe there's some good in this, though -- everyone needs to experience the bottom of the cycle sometimes, if only to truly appreciate what it means to be on top.

Boston fans, especially those under 30 (and I'm in this age bracket), have generally forgotten this because their teams have been so successful. It's hard to believe, but the Patriots, the paragon of football franchises, have actually lasted the longest of any of the city's franchises without a title -- their last Super Bowl victory was in 2005. This makes the Patriots' nascent season intriguing to me. As much attention and praise as they receive, they now have a slight hint of the underdog and a stronger one of urgency. The offense has been spectacular in the first two games, adding to the thrill they've often created the past several years.

Tom Brady has grown on me over the years: Once beloved for winning so many championships, he's now moderately derided (if not openly mocked) for his supermodel wife, elegant lifestyle, long hair, the time he spends with his family, and the great regular seasons but underwhelming playoffs he's had in recent years. Usually, I wouldn't be totally comfortable with this combination, either. But Brady plays against type and challenges the conventional wisdom of sportswriters and fans so well: His game says, Why can't you be aggressive and slightly feminine at the same time? Why can't you spend time with your family and excel on the field? Why can't your personality and private life change as you age without compromising your passion for your profession? Why would we demand of a sports star what we wouldn't demand of ourselves?