Or What?

I'm serious. What's going to happen if I don't cough up the $14.95 to make my Red Sox Nation citizenship official by the end of today? Is the MA governor of RSN going to come to my house and take my picture of The Steal off the wall? Is he going to break my Sox mug? Burn my Sox t-shirts? Cancel my DirecTV?

What are they going to do me? Throw me in some Gitmo type cage designed by "Den" Drinkwater? Force me to listen to Tessie non-stop for days? Staple a pink hat to my head? Put Sox Appeal on a never-ending loop? Gel each individual strand of Jacoby Ellsbury's hair? Brush Wally's fur? Feed me only the remnants from Remy's ashtray? Make me fellate Dan Shaughnessy as he reads from The Curse of the Bambino?

OK, that one might break me.

To the gestapo of Red Sox Nation, I say: bring it on.. You're not getting my $14.95. You can take your official citizenship and shove it up Bartolo Colon's ample ass. And I'm not the only one. There are thousands of us who don't need our loyalty validated by some shitty piece of plastic and a discount at the Yawkey Way store. Our loyalty is measured in blood and sweat and tears and nervous breakdowns during games against the Orioles in early May. Our loyalty is measured in what happens ON the field and not off of it. Our loyalty is measured in the amount of games we watched BEFORE 2003 and not the number of games we watched after 2003.Our loyalty is measured by hot stove, not Hot Stove, Cool Music. Our loyalty is measured by the fact that we don't think 14892742 is the number to call to order tickets.

Our loyalty is measured by living and dying on every pitch and every swing.

And no matter how hard you try, you cannot put a price on that.