In this land of all things Boston Red Sox, it's really not that surprising for a New York Yankees fan to surface.  New York, after all, is not far down the road, and the Yankees have - for better or worse - set a standard of excellence by winning 26 world championships.
         But what to make of a New Englander who roots for the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, baseball's youngest franchise and consistent cellar dweller?
         It's almost like having Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin available for a party and choosing Joey Bishop. 
         But don't mock Pat and Christin M.  This mother-daughter tandem from Mass., has legitimate baseball bonafides, and their obsession for the Devil Rays has been a grand-slam experience that outdistances the team's nine last-place finishes in 10 years.
         For one, many Devil Rays players and coaches have befriended these ladies and provided them with a slew of autographed souvenirs, photographs and intimate moments that would make most baseball fans jealous.
         But Pat and Christin can also boast of an accomplishment unattainable to many New Englanders: Their visages and names appear on the Rays Wall of Fan Fame at Tropicana Field, an honor bestowed to only six people each season.  The ladies went into Tampa Bay history as a duo, acquiring the nickname "The Inseparables."
         As their Web site (www.patchristin.com) illustrates, they go everywhere together - and they go everywhere.
         Mother and daughter attend nearly 40 Devil Rays games a season, many of them in Tampa Bay.  They also follow the team on the road - Anaheim and Oakland already this year - and are unafraid to wear Devil Rays jerseys and hats at Fenway Park.
         In fact, they'll don the gear of any opponent that plays the Red Sox.  Anything but the Sox, they say.
         "People always say the same thing. 'Why are you Devil Rays fans?'" Christin said.  The answer is Tino Martinez, the now-retired first baseman who made the Devil Rays' domed stadium a home for a season before taking a curtain call at the more historical Yankee Stadium, where he previously helped the Bronx Bombers win four titles.
         It was June 2004, and the ladies were still Yankees fans.  At a game in Toronto, Christin posed for a photo with Martinez in his new Devil Rays uniform.  She soon realized she needed him to sign it, so she and her mom started attending Devil Rays games with pen in hand. 
         Martinez happily provided his John Hancock in September.  But in those three months, the ladies interacted with Devil Rays players who appreciated their enthusiasm and seeming devotion.
         Before  you know it, Pat and Christin dumped the Yankees as fast as their temperamental owner, George Steinbrenner, sheds managers.  "It wasn't hard to drop the Yankees," Pat said.
         That may seem odd considering that Pat, 52, is a New Jersey native who can recall the glory years with Mickey Mantle.  Christin saw the Yanks win four titles in five years in the late 1990's.
         The Devil Rays, on the other hand, epitomize losing and unpopularity.  The team's best season, 204, was a fourth-place finish, and sometimes followers of their opponent outnumber Rays fans at Tropicana Field.  A character in "The Simpsons" has even taken a jab, calling astrology "the Tampa Bay Devil Rays of science."
         But Pat and Christin felt no emotional attachment to the Yankees, especially with players often inaccessible to fans.  Whereas Devil Rays players - looking for love in losing seasons - open their arms.  "They appreciate the fans," Christin said.  "And they're up and coming," Pat said, "You've got to start somewhere."
         Almost every wall, table, shelf and closet bears testament to their fidelity and the players' reciprocation.
         Framed photographs of Christin posing with Devil Rays players and coaches line the walls.  Behind every image is a story of a kind and caring athlete, including those who call Pat "mom."
         But that's not all.  The ladies have 1,756 baseball themed items that include bats, balls, jerseys, gloves, bobblehead dolls, figurines, cards, posters, jewelry and more.
         Christin has inventoried the collection on a spreadsheet.  Line 716: Jonny Gomes autographed, game-used bat.  Line 739: Barry Zito autographed apron.  Line 7:90: Jim Palmer signed underwear and card.
         The ladies intend to see a game in every Major League Baseball stadium; they have four left.  Their jobs allow them to spend summers out of a suitcase: Christin is a nurse at Fairgrounds Middle School in Nashua, and Pat is on the Nashua SummerFun Committee and works as a fitness trainer for Curves.
         Last year, they attended 70 games in 15 parks, spending $20,000 on travel, accommodations and tickets.  It could have been higher.  They save by staying with friends they've made through their fan experience of the past four years, and the Devil Rays refuse to let them buy tickets anymore, they said.
         Christin and Pat will admit they're "obsessed" with baseball and the Rays.  Like any obsession, it started on a benign whim: a photograph in need of a signature.  But unlike with most fixations, this affliction harms no one - except for those Red Sox fans puzzled and eventually slighted by the sight of a Massachusetts family rooting for Carl Crawford.
         "Oh my God," Pat said, "It can't get any better, unless we move down there and work for them."



Albert McKeon can be reached at 603-594-5832 or amckeon@nashuatelegraph.com
Photo below by Jodie Andruskevich




Devil Ray disciples
Reprinted from
The Telegraph
May 27,2007
By Albert McKeon, Telegraph Staff
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