I have been a crazy, possessed, die-hard New England sports fan for the majority of my 19 years. I live and breathe Red Sox, Patriots, Revolution and (not lately) Bruins.

I unabashedly scream and yell at the television like the outcome of the game solely depends on my attempts to criticize a failing team.

I don’t wash my T-shirt when the Sox are winning, and I have faithfully worn the same old-school 1987 Pats jersey all three times I have been alive to see them go to the Super Bowl. In other words, without New England sports, I’d be lost.

The Sox are World Champions, the Pats are 10-1 and are poised to make a run at a third title in four years — a bona fide dynasty. And I’m in college in Boston, the heart and soul of New England sports, to see it all happen.

So why do I have this nagging feeling of dread every time I see the Pats steamroll another unsuspecting team?

Because I was there to see a student die — not once, but twice — in what was supposed to be celebration.

I hate that every time I remember the fateful day when the Evil Empire was finally toppled, I also see Victoria Snelgrove lying completely still on the ground, and the panicked look on the faces of those around her.

I hate that with every Patriots win and subsequent mention of once again going all the way, I see James Grabowski’s lone shoe sitting in the middle of Symphony Road between two bloodstains.

Both times, I was there, no more than 50 feet away. It could have been me, it could have been one of my friends. And it could happen again.

Never again will I watch a Sunday afternoon Pats game or a Sox playoff game under the glow of the Citgo sign without somehow hearing that nagging voice in my head telling of the possible consequences.

My innocence as a crazed, passionate sports fan has been compromised by the actions of a few. My unconditional love for the game will never go away, but it’s just a little darker, a little less oblivious now.

So I’m asking, as a student in a university which has taken more heat than we sometimes deserve, for every other student to make a conscious decision to change what we all feel is inevitable.

I’m admitting, as much as I love to dance, yell and high-five in the streets just like everyone else, that no celebration — whatever good and innocent intentions there may be — is worth the life of someone’s child, someone’s friend, someone’s lover and a fellow student.

And we, as the heart and soul of sports in New England, need to make sure things change, so I and hundreds of others like me don’t need to secretly hope just a little that we lose in the big game.

With that said, go Pats.

– Sarah Metcalf is a sophomore journalism major and a member of The News staff.