As news of — and interest in — the Bruins’ misfortunes rapidly fades from view and the rejuvenated Celtics dominate the headlines, the first-place Red Sox continue their tear through the American League. Despite a creampuff early-season schedule that was weighted heavily by the have-nots of the baseball world, the Sox prolonged their winning ways and over the past few days added the A’s to their list of vanquished opponents. Our hometown lads lead the majors in team hitting at a hefty .305, and their 3.32 team ERA is best in the AL. Their road record through Wednesday was 15-2, the best start in the majors in nearly 20 years, and the team’s overall 23-7 mark was five games better than the hated pinstripers. In short, the Red Sox have made us proud again. They are a fun team to watch, they’re deep, they seem to be getting along, and any hints of controversy always start with Rickey Henderson (and his perceived lack of playing time) but seemingly end right there without any further damage spreading. Our Sox are everything we could have hoped they’d be, and visions of postseason ball are already blooming like the daffodils in the Public Garden.

While I don’t mean to upset the applecart, nor the bandwagon, nor Cinderella’s coach, I nonetheless cannot help but wonder if the Sox’ meteoric return to prominence in our hearts can expunge those dismal memories of September 2001, and I mean that solely in baseball terms. Because what those Red Sox did to their fandom from late August through the final Cal Ripken farewell weekend in October cannot easily be forgotten, much less forgiven. Like a broken heart, the pain and disappointment that the despicable 2001 Fall Failures exacted on our collective psyches cannot soon be easily mended, and certainly not with merely a bouquet of flowers, or an eight-game win streak.

Last fall’s debacle was like the girlfriend who shared a delightful summer with you and led you to believe that a glorious future lay ahead, only to stun you with "I want to start seeing other people" in August. The descent into madness continued as she completely ignored you in the subsequent weeks, all the while flaunting a new beau right in front of your eyes and daring you to do something about it. What you came to realize too late is that maybe she didn’t really care about you at all — at least not as much as you cared for her, and her true black-hearted colors ultimately came out despite positive signs to the contrary in the preceding months. You thought you knew her, but ...

In essence, that’s what last year’s Sox did to their fans — they rolled over and stopped caring without warning. As baseball guru Peter Gammons once noted, "All Red Sox fans really want from their team is for them to care as much as we do."

After last summer’s season-turner — a Saturday-night, 18-inning 8-7 loss in Texas on August 25 — the Sox proceeded to go 1-12, and drop from four games back of the Yankees (and one and a half behind the A’s for the wild card) to 13 behind both New York and Oakland. After a nine-game layoff for post–September 11 recovery, the team continued to tank despite a closing 20-game schedule that included match-ups with diamond dogs Baltimore, Detroit, and Tampa Bay — teams that had months before packed it in. Originally, that final stretch of 97-pound weaklings probably would have clinched a playoff spot for the Sox; instead, it turned out be the coup de grâce in a record-setting swoon. In those final 20 weak-sister tilts (on the heels of the 1-12 collapse) that might have reclaimed some dignity for the team, the Sox instead went 6-10 before sweeping Baltimore in the meaningless four-game finale at Camden Yards.

I know, the current Boston squad is loveable, but the 2001 cast of characters — many of whom remain on the team — stole Fenway patrons’ money, wasted our time, and dashed our hopes by mailing in 12 of their 17 home games down the stretch, in the process squandering all the goodwill they had won during the exciting spring and summer. If you happened to forget, last year’s team played the bulk of the season without Nomar, Jason, and Pedro, yet still were leading the AL East up until the All-Star break in July. Yeah, they were short-handed, but they played with spunk and desire, and those beloved Dirt Dogs strung us along in spite of the whisperings of team dissension that marked Jimy Williams’s final months as Sox skipper. Arch-villain Dan Duquette, mercifully in his final season as the team GM, was fiercely determined to scuttle Williams despite the team’s surprising success, and when the Sox hit a tough stretch against the high-flying Mariners and A’s in August, Duquette pulled the trigger on Jimy and sent him packing despite the team’s 65-53 record. With overmatched replacement manager Joe Kerrigan, the team went 17-26 and finished 13 and a half games behind the Yankees and an unfathomable 19 games in arrears of Oakland, the wild-card winner.

The new ownership has largely cleaned house during the off-season, and long gone are Duquette, Kerrigan, and the rest of the see-no-evil, hear-no-evil ownership that allowed the team’s problems to fester and the season to go down the drain. Also departed are some of last year’s reported whiners, troublemakers, and underachievers, including — in no particular order — Mike Lansing, Troy O’Leary, Scott Hatteberg, Dante Bichette, Hideo Nomo, and Carl Everett. Some of the quitters and pouters are obviously still on the team, but new manager Grady Little and the addition of solid character players like Johnny Damon and Tony Clark have helped gloss over the disappointment of the autumn of 2001.

Yes, the Red Sox are back in first, and all seems right in the world again. But to resume the relationship metaphor, it now appears that the old girlfriend has seemingly come to her senses and is back in your life, anxious to win back your affections. Your heart is still raw, and you’re reluctant to re-commit, but you have a well of good memories from last summer, and she really seems to have changed. You’re dazed and confused, but she’s right there — looking great. Do you rush back into her arms, or do you keep her waiting a bit longer before you give away your heart again?

It comes down to this: if you can believe that a leopard can change its spots, and that people really can change for the better, then embrace the 2002 Sox without reservation. However, if you cannot immediately dismiss the anger that enveloped you last September — and instead have to ask the question, "But how could you do this to me last fall? Whatever were you thinking?" — then perhaps you need to rein in your emotions for a while and pause to see if your former love is truly worthy of such devotion again.

After all, a year ago, we were also marveling at the first-place Sox. We can only hope that this year’s team will play out the rest of the season — all of it — and continue to care as much as we do.

Sporting Eye runs Mondays and Fridays at BostonPhoenix.com. Christopher Young can be reached at cyoung[a]phx.com.