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No doubt if you’re reading this post, you know of the Sox 8th inning comeback last night from a 5-1 shellacking with an Ortiz grand slam to tie the game and then the win in the bottom the 9th.

Lots of video, pictures (especially the one of the Boston cop with his hands up while Torii Hunter only has his legs showing), and good writing about all of that. So I won’t try to improve on it.

But this morning I got the following email from a friend who is on a small Sox list that sends around cheers and cheering up at various times throughout the season.

I sent my son to bed at 5-1. He was so depressed about Scherzer dominating, I thought I was doing him a favor.

Worst. Dad. Ever.

I can certainly identify with his dilemma.

It’s not until after we’ve already induced the Sox obsession to our kid(s) that we begin to understand what we’ve done. (I’ve written about this previously, I Blame You and The E-Mail on the Kitchen Table.)

As parents, one of our roles, we think, is to protect our kids from hurt and disappointment. Somehow, we think we can do that.

Well, maybe the hurt part, if it’s a physical issue, is something that is right to do. But the disappointment part is an illusion.

No one knows that better than generations of Sox fans and their children.

To this day, after 60+ years of obsessing about the Sox, I find it difficult to watch certain games (see my last post, The Best Laid Plans… , about going to Tampa). In fact, I have kept the TV off for the first two games of the playoffs against the Tigers, knowing that it’s just too stressful for me to watch, tho I did follow the written play-by-play MLB coverage on my iPad.

But back to the father’s dilemma. To the dilemma we all face as parents.

When do we protect and when do we step back and let our progeny experience what life brings?

And is the above quoted dad being too hard on himself?