For me personally, it’s been a minute since the last time I ventured into Southie for the St. Patrick’s Day Parade. And admittedly, when I did I was always among the parade goers who were there with kids. So while my group was finding new and more inventive ways to drink without Boston’s Finest smacking the booze out of our hands (thanks for the extra large styro cups, Dunks!), I was always in the 90th percentile in terms of tameness.
But nevertheless, you’d pick up the newspaper (back when the news appeared on paper) on Monday, and the first paragraph would always include the numbers of arrests. If a million and a half people swarmed into that neighborhood and four got out of line, that was the top story. In ways that it never seemed to be for the other ethnic and pride festivals in town. Which always seemed unfair.
That is, until you just learn to embrace it. As part of our cultural heritage. As a Rite of Spring. No different than fish on Friday, Red Sox Opening Day, the Marathon, and putting away the beach chair you’ve been using to guard the parking spot you dug our from the last blizzard. An essential part of the rich tradition that is being Boston Irish.
That’s certainly how these lads saw it, as Shillelagh Law was established in a dirty alley:…