Spygate. Deflategate.  Applegate? Not another one…

As a lifelong Boston sports fan, I, like many of my fellow Bostonians, tend to scoff at the thought that any of my favorite teams could cheat. I jump to defend their honor at all costs, denying that any team of mine is capable of wrongdoing. I buy into the classic mantra: “They hate us ‘cause they ain’t us.” I’m THAT Boston sports fan. I’m the worst, I know.

Sometimes, though, there’s just no room to hide. My beloved Boston Red Sox cheated. Period.

On Tuesday, The New York Times’ Michael Schmidt reported that the Sox had been caught stealing signs from the New York Yankees and other teams by using an Apple Watch in the dugout to receive data and communicate it to coaches and players on the field.

Yes, that’s the same Schmidt who reported that David Ortiz and Manny Ramirez were allegedly caught doping in 2003, uncovered the Hillary Clinton email scandal, and led the coverage of the James Comey/Donald Trump debacle. He’s the real deal.

So what actually happened?

Two weeks ago, Yankees general manager Brian Cashman filed a complaint with the Major League Baseball, accusing the Sox of illegally stealing signs during a recent series between the two rivals. Commissioner Rob Manfred and a team of MLB investigators jumped in — they interviewed players and team staff involved, reviewed video tapes from the series, and finally confronted the Sox about the claim. And yes, we cheated.

Well, sort of.

Baseball, since its inception in the mid-19th century, has been a game of unwritten rules. When a player gets beaned, his team retaliates. When a team is winning by a sizeable margin, it is ill-advised steal extra bases to show up its opponent. When a runner is on second base, he tries to steal signs from the catcher. These things happen. They’re part of the game, just like bat flips, walk-up songs and outfield dancing.

That being said, these unwritten rules also have unwritten, and sometimes written, limits. If you’re going to bean a batter, don’t bean the pitcher. If you’re going to try to steal signs, you can’t use any tools or technology to do so. It’s just common sense.

With the Sox, the issue is not the action of sign-stealing itself. That’s part of baseball; everyone does it. But using devices inside the dugout to receive communications from behind the scenes and relaying that data to players is unacceptable. It’s cheating. And the Red Sox know that.

When grilled on the topic, however, Sox President of Baseball Operations Dave Dombrowski offered little explanation.

“I think sign stealing has been going on in baseball for a long time,” Dombrowski said at the team press conference. “Do I think sign stealing is wrong? No. People are trying to win however they can. I’ve never felt that it was wrong.”

Come on, Dave.

Following the lead of his reticent boss, manager John Farrell insisted that he knew nothing about the operation. He, too, finds no issue with sign-stealing, but claims he had no knowledge of any illegal use of technology.

Realistically, two possible scenarios emerge regarding Farrell’s involvement. Either: 1) He knew about the cheating and turned a blind eye, or 2) His team cheated right under his nose and he had no idea.

Which is worse? A manager who allows cheating, or one who is oblivious to it and lacks control of his own team? Either way, this looks quite bad for our skipper.

At the end of the day, I don’t anticipate much recourse from Applegate. The Sox will likely lose some draft picks, pay a decent fine and get a good finger-wag from Commissioner Manfred. A team staff member or two may receive a suspension. Beyond that, I expect little action from the league.

The most important impact this fiasco will bear, however, is undoubtedly another hit to the reputation and dignity of Boston sports. The vast amount of contempt sports fans worldwide already feel towards our city will be magnified and deepened. And worse yet, another team will be brought into the fray. Not only does our football team employ dangerously questionable tactics, but now the Red Sox too?

Don’t get me wrong, I still love my teams. I still hold immense pride in calling myself a Bostonian and a Boston sports fan. But with this latest chapter in the history book of Boston cheating, I won’t make any excuses. What we did was wrong.

Sure, old-fashioned sign-stealing is permissible. But rules are rules, and my Red Sox broke one, plain and simple. I’d like to believe that Boston is better than this. Sadly, it is becoming increasingly more difficult to continue doing that.