Red Sox unite generations

That’s baseball, indeed

He can see in his grandson’s eyes the boy he used to be, back when he, too, was agog over Red Sox luminaries with names like Jensen, Piersall and Malzone the way today’s kids are dazzled by Fenway Park favorites with names like J.D., Mookie and Jackie.

But his salad days were long ago, and he’s come to realize Thomas Wolfe had it right in observing we can’t go home again, that turning back the pages of time is not an option life affords us; like it or not, time moves on and so must we.

Today, however, we’ll get a brief reprieve as duck boats roll past cheering throngs, chauffeuring Boston’s newly crowned champions of baseball.

“Perfectly respectable people are yelling and screaming, behaving as they never would anywhere else,” the great Bill Russell, champion of all champions, said of jubilant Boston fans in his autobiography. “I used to joke that if you could bottle all of that emotion you’d have enough hate to fight a war and enough joy to prevent one.” That’s Red Sox baseball. If you grew up around here it needs no explanation. Look at the faces lining today’s parade route and you’ll see generations having little else in common, yet on this occasion they’ll clearly be of one accord.

That’s Red Sox baseball. And that goes for jaded columnists, too.

In this age of ever-changing technology, it’s endearing to recall fiddling with the dial on a Philco transistor until Curt Gowdy’s dulcet voice could be heard: “Hi, neighbor, have a ’Gansett!”

That’s Red Sox baseball. This writer doesn’t remember when his lifelong addiction to Moxie began, but does remember it was “Ted Williams’ favorite!”

That’s Red Sox baseball.

‘I used to joke that if you could bottle all of that emotion you’d have enough hate to fight a war and enough joy to prevent one.’ BILL RUSSELL, on jubilant Boston fans

When he visits his parents’ grave he smiles at the etching on a nearby stone: “He lived to see the Red Sox win a World Series!” That’s Red Sox baseball. He thinks of players who were genuinely adored — none more than Luis Tiant — but can’t remember when an entire team was, following David Price’s redemption. Even the manager fits the script; Alex Cora comes across as a truly grateful skipper who leads with his heart as much as his head. Winter’s around the corner and contentious elections are less than a week away, meaning everyday life is lurking, waiting to sucker punch us again.

But for just a few hours we’re going to be feeling awfully good about ourselves as we celebrate a vicarious thrill that belongs to us all.

That’s Red Sox baseball and there’s nothing quite like it.