Red Sox Nation thrives in California

By Peter DeMarco, Globe Correspondent  |  October 6, 2004

ANAHEIM, Calif. -- Standing in his rhinestone-studded Elvis suit with a Massachusetts license plate dangling from his neck and a Boston Red Sox hat on his head, Mike Kearney was the number one target of Angels fans yesterday in Section 523, the nosebleed seats.

And he was loving it.

''1918!" yelled one Anaheim fan, tauntingly chanting the last year the Red Sox won the World Series.

''Go play your lottery numbers!" said Kearney.

''1918!" the fan yelled again.

Kearney looked at the man's plaid button-down shirt and declared with derision: ''Nice shirt. I wore that in 1984."

Kearney, 25, then turned his back and flowing white cape on his adversary and proudly sipped his beer. ''I moved out here two months ago, but I couldn't be more Boston," he said. ''I'm Irish and I've got six brothers and sisters, and I'm from North Weymouth. And I love the Sox."

Few Bostonians were able to fly 3,000 miles on short notice this week for the first game of the American League Divisional Series here. But the game brought out plenty of transplanted Red Sox fans, who live mostly quiet lives the rest of the year among native Californians, but emerged loudly and unmistakeably into the sun-filled stadium yesterday.

While it was hard for the eye to distinguish Red Sox fans from Angels fans in the stands because both sport red, it was easy for the ears: The chants of ''let's go Red Sox" rained down from many sections of the ballpark.

''Get going! Get going! Manny, get going!" screamed Steve Furtado, 29, a Mission Beach resident by way of Taunton, as Manny Ramirez's fourth-inning home run sailed over the center-field fence.

''Look at that," he said, pointing to a dozen Sox fans slapping hands in his section after the blast. ''A little bit of pride wherever you go."

Still, the sheer number of Sox fans here -- George Berardi, longtime secretary of the BoSox Club, the team's official booster club, says California trails only New York City and Florida in the number of transplants -- tells only part of the story.

Living so far from Kenmore Square has made California Sox fans more appreciative of all things back home, they say. Gathering for Red Sox games at the few bars that broadcast them, a tradition for many who have moved here, is a way to feel close to New England again.

At the Ocean Beach Grille in San Diego, operated by West Roxbury native Aileecia Lewis, Boston sports fans hang memorabilia on the walls or tack sports clippings from Boston newspapers on the door without even asking, as if they're in their own house.

In Hermosa Beach, a short drive south of Los Angeles International Airport, Sox fans shovel down clam chowder at Fat Face Fenners Fishshack, operated by Medford son Gary Vincent, whenever there's a game.

''We get anywhere between 100 and 200 people, depending on the nature of the game," Vincent said. ''It's like a dysfunctional family reunion. Everybody knows somebody, but nobody knows anybody. But if you're from New England, you're my buddy. It's the 'Cheers' mentality."

With so few chances to see the Sox in action, many transplants made the extra effort yesterday to see their team. Pete Apalakis, a Stoneham native who is now a furniture maker in San Diego, had to wait yesterday morning for Federal Express to deliver the tickets he bought on eBay before he could bolt up the highway.

Winthrop native Diana Walsh, meanwhile, pulled an all-night nursing shift, so she could be in her seat for the 1 p.m. start.

''I've been up since 11 a.m. yesterday," said Walsh, wearing a Red Sox T-shirt and sitting next to an Arlington native. ''But I had a ticket, so I had to come."

More than 100 fans, with roots in places from Worcester to Chelmsford to New Hampshire, poured into Sonny McLean's in Santa Monica, a bar run by Foxborough native Jim Connors that was featured in the Red Sox documentary ''Still We Believe."

''It's like this little support group here," said Aidas Banaitis, 28, a college math teacher raised in Canton, while sipping a drink at Sonny's on Monday night.

Make no mistake, though: In spite of their laid-back surroundings, Sox fans here have hardly lost their edginess.

Chelsea native Lindsey Clarke, 22, moved to California when she was 15. ''I went from Chelsea High to Palm Springs High School; isn't that weird?" she joked.

But she still boils when she talks about losing out on a ball Red Sox outfielder Gabe Kapler was tossing to fans in the stands at Angel Stadium. ''This old guy reaches in front of me and grabs it for his kid," she said. ''I wanted to kick the kid."

As Vincent, who moved to California from Medford in 1983, likes to say, ''You can take the fan out of Boston, but you can't take Boston out of the fan."