ANAHEIM, Calif. Standing in his rhinestone-studded Elvis suitwith a Massachusetts license plate dangling from his neck and aBoston Red Sox hat on his head, Mike Kearney was the number onetarget of Angels fans yesterday in Section 523, the nosebleed seats.
And he was loving it.
'1918!' yelled one Anaheim fan, tauntingly chanting the last yearthe Red Sox won the World Series.
'Go play your lottery numbers!' barked Kearney.
'1918!' the fan yelled again.
Kearney looked at the man's plaid button-down shirt and declaredwith derision: 'Nice shirt. I wore that in 1984.'
Kearney, 25, then turned his back and flowing white cape on hisadversary and proudly sipped his beer. 'I moved out here two monthsago, but I couldn't be more Boston,' he said. 'I'm Irish and I've gotsix brothers and sisters, and I'm from North Weymouth. And I love theSox.'
Few Bostonians were able to fly 3,000 miles on short notice thisweek for the first game of the American League Divisional Serieshere. But the game brought out plenty of transplanted Red Sox fans,who live mostly quiet lives the rest of the year among nativeCalifornians, but emerged loudly and unmistakeably into the sun-filled stadium yesterday.
While it was hard for the eye to distinguish Red Sox fans fromAngels fans in the stands because both sport red, it was easy for theears: The chants of 'let's go Red Sox' rained down from many sectionsof the ballpark.
'Get going! Get going! Manny, get going!' screamed Steve Furtado,29, a Mission Beach resident by way of Taunton, as Manny Ramirez'sfourth-inning home run sailed over the center-field fence.
'Look at that,' he said, pointing to a dozen Sox fans slappinghands in his section after the blast. 'A little bit of pride whereveryou go.'
Still, the sheer number of Sox fans here George Berardi, longtimesecretary of the BoSox Club, the team's official booster club, saysCalifornia trails only New York City and Florida in the number oftransplants tells only part of the story.
Living so far from Kenmore Square has made California Sox fansmore appreciative of all things back home, they say. Gathering forRed Sox games at the few bars that broadcast them, a tradition formany who have moved here, is a way to feel close to New Englandagain.
At the Ocean Beach Grille in San Diego, operated by West Roxburynative Aileecia Lewis, Boston sports fans hang memorabilia on thewalls or tack sports clippings from Boston newspapers on the doorwithout even asking, as if they're in their own house.
In Hermosa Beach, a short drive south of Los Angeles InternationalAirport, Sox fans shovel down clam chowder at Fat Face FennersFishshack, operated by Medford son Gary Vincent, whenever there's agame.
'We get anywhere between 100 and 200 people, depending on thenature of the game,' Vincent said. 'It's like a dysfunctional familyreunion. Everybody knows somebody, but nobody knows anybody. But ifyou're from New England, you're my buddy. It's the `Cheers'mentality.'
With so few chances to see the Sox in action, many transplantsmade the extra effort yesterday to see their team. Pete Apalakis, aStoneham native who is now a furniture maker in San Diego, had towait yesterday morning for Federal Express to deliver the tickets hebought on eBay before he could bolt up the highway.
Winthrop native Diana Walsh, meanwhile, pulled an all-nightnursing 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 RedSox T-shirt and sitting next to an Arlington native. 'But I had aticket, so I had to come.'
More than 100 fans, with roots in places from Worcester toChelmsford to New Hampshire, poured into Sonny McLean's in SantaMonica, a bar run by Foxborough native Jim Connors that was featuredin 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 atSonny'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 shewas 15. 'I went from Chelsea High to Palm Springs High School; isn'tthat weird?' she joked.
But she still boils when she talks about losing out on a ball RedSox outfielder Gabe Kapler was tossing to fans in the stands at AngelStadium. 'This old guy reaches in front of me and grabs it for hiskid,' she said. 'I wanted to kick the kid.'
As Vincent, who moved to California from Medford in 1983, likes tosay, 'You can take the fan out of Boston, but you can't take Bostonout of the fan.'
