I became a Sox fan in the mid-nineties after I moved to Mass. I've been amazed at the fact that when you become a Sox fan, you inherit the past 100 years. I cringe when I hear the name Bucky Dent even though I never saw him play, and I wave my arms like a madman when I see Fisk's homer.
My son was born in Sept. 04, and I painted his room as Fenway Park. I felt guilty for a month about potentially raising my son to root for a team that will break his heart. But now when he sees Big Pappi, he raises his arms, flipps his cap, and jumps on home plate.
If I never see them win another one it will all be worth it. There's nothing like rooting for the Sox!