I'll preface this with letting you know that I'm no sports writer. I'm your average Boston Red Sox fan. Made it to one game, and left when it started to downpour (insert fair-weather-fan puns here). But the thing about being a Sox fan is that all you have to do is live here (and being born and raised here helps).
Boston fans are some loyal beasts. We flipped a Mercedes for goodness sakes. We're also patient. We did wait 86 years that one time, waiting a few hours for a parade--ain't no thang.
There's was celebrating of course, but for some reason my photos captured something somber. Perhaps it was the remnant feelings of what happened the last time we lined these streets as spectators.