This column originally ran in The Standard-Times on Oct. 31, 2004.

By Nick Tavares

It was the heroes' welcome that could have only been dreamed of before.

Yesterday morning, I, along with my 3.5 million closest friends, went to pay homage to the Boston Red Sox in their "Rolling Rally" parade that saw them slither the Beantown streets through a sea of adoring, thankful fans.

And this was no dream.

Huddled in a navy hooded Sox sweatshirt on Tremont Street, I got more than just a taste of what was awaiting these now-revered players.

Arriving just after 9 a.m. for what would be a 10 a.m. parade start from the Fenway area, the streets were already lined five and six people deep. After 86 years, no one was really hung up on having to wait an extra few hours for the motorcade to roll by.

Suffolk University students peered over their balconies and windows down to the streets below, while the rest took to starting chants, some flattering, some standard -- "Let's go, Red Sox!" -- and some anti-Yankee calls that were less than becoming.

But those were few and far between. This wasn't about the Yankees. This day was for all things Red.

Signs with messages reading "Is this Heaven? No, it's Boston" and "Cut the Check for Varitek" lined the streets. One fan held up a street sign that read "BABE RUTH dr." The Loews Theater across the street from Boston Common even got into the act, rearranging the letters in its name to read "LOWES," in honor of the Sox' Series-clinching pitcher.

But most of all, there was just an incredible feeling of pure, unadulterated joy. Not even the less-than-ideal weather was going to bring these folks down.

A little before 11:30, one fan hung up his cell phone and called out to anyone who would hear

"15 minutes! They'll be here in 15 minutes!"

And sure enough, those blinking lights of the police were visible, the Red Sox were on their way.

The first trolley had several people in Red Sox jackets waving and cheering, and it was only upon noticing the man up front that I realized who they were.

"Is that — it is, that's Butch Hobson!" I yelled to no one in particular.

The first duck boat followed, with coaches Dale Sveum, Bill Haselman and Lynn Jones visible, and a boat with David McCarty and Mark Bellhorn visible from our side of the street followed.

I knew who was next before the next duck boat was even visible. Chants of "MVP! MVP!" quickly filled the air to greet Manny Ramirez, flanked by Kevin Millar and Doug Mientkiewicz.

Derek Lowe and Pedro Martinez were next, who received the loudest ovations from my standpoint. Chants of "D-Lowe! D-Lowe!" and "Pedro! Pedro!" intermingled into one cacophony of praise from the Nation.

Curt Schilling seemed to have a boat all to himself, and was more than happy to be soaking up the crowd.

A jubilant Ellis Burks trailed him, joined by general manager Theo Epstein. Both were working up the crowd with microphones, but if anyone could hear them over the roar, then my hat's off to them for having ears stronger than mine.

A car with Wally the Green Monster capped off the parade. After the final boat passed, the crowd quickly dissipated, some to follow the team down the rest of the route, others to grab lunch or a spot on the insanely crowded T.

Unwilling to let this day go, I marched forward, taking a right to head up Boylston Street to see what was left in the parade's wake. There was trash on the streets, but, considering the sheer volume of participants, I'm amazed there wasn't more. There were plenty of street vendors selling championship T-shirts, pennants and hats, and the scene at Fenway saw the Souvenir Store and all its satellite buildings being stripped bare by eager fans wanting any piece of the team they could get.

Barring a few isolated incidents, everyone was everyone else's best friend yesterday. The police were laughing and enjoying themselves. The fans were still chanting in favor of the hometown Sox hours after the parade had ended. It was impossible not to have a smile on your face yesterday.

And that's how it feels to be a winner.

Nick Tavares is a columnist for the Standard-Times. Email him at ntavares@s-t.com.

This story appeared on Page A9 of The Standard-Times on October 31, 2004.