And the crowd goes wild ...

(John Tlumacki/Globe Staff)

By Andrew Ryan, Globe Staff

The roar of the crowd filled Copley Square like a wave as the advancing duck boats rolled down Boylston Street, shooting red, white and blue confetti.

College students climbed trees, scurried up light poles, and climbed on top of a bus shelter for a better view.

Businessmen in ties and trenchcoats stood on their toes like children, straining to get a glimpse of the World Series-winning Red Sox.

Spontaneous chants erupted: "Sign Mike Lowell," "Yankees Suck," and "Dice-K," when the Japanese star rolled by.

Eamon McQuaid, 8, sat on the shoulders of his father, John, who bounced up and down in rhythm with the cheers.

Looking over the crowd, Eamon was trying to catch a glimpse of the only player near his size.

"Where's Dustin Pedroia?" he asked. While Eamon looked, his sister, Aisling, 5, let out a shriek from her perch on her mother's shoulders.

"Big Papi!" she screamed, grabbing her brother's arm and pointing toward the back of a duck boat.

John McQuaid echoed his daughter's shouts. "Big Papi!" he screamed, bouncing his son higher in the air.

David Ortiz turned from the back of the duck boat and seemed to look right at the McQuaid children. Eamon and Aisling smiled like it was Christmas morning and screamed Ortiz's name again.

The rolling rally to celebrate the Red Sox sweep of the Colorado Rockies started just after noon at Fenway Park and proceeded through deafening cheers down Boylston Street toward a gigantic, raucous rally at City Hall Plaza.

Halfway through the route, the caravan stopped in Copley Square, where closer Jonathan Papelbon, who was riding with fellow pitchers Hideki Okajima and Mike Timlin and the Dropkick Murphys band, drove the crowd into a frenzy with his trademark jig.

City officials estimated some 35,000 feet of barricades were erected for today's festivities. The confetti blowers on the duck boats were loaded with 800 pounds of confetti.

Fans had come early, prepared for cold weather, using folding chairs and stools to save their places along the metal barriers lining the parade route.

They waved signs bearing messages like "Marry me, Jacoby," "Thank you, Red Sox," and "Save the Last Dance for Boston 58." (Papelbon wears number 58)

"When we came before, we stood for three hours," said Linda Gendall, 37, who began her trek to the parade route with her daughter, Jamie, 8, at 8 a.m. from Stoneham.

This time, the Gendalls brought beach chairs that they set up on Boylston Street near the Central Burying Ground.

Jamie wore her mother's oversized gray Red Sox sweatshirt and a blue 2004 World Series hat pulled tight on her head. She said, "I want to see them dance."

Near the corner of Tremont and Boylston, Dan Acheson, 19, an Emerson College sophomore from Sanbornton, N.H., had secured his perch at 9 a.m.

"I'm sitting on a stool that the school provided in my dorm room," said Acheson, who skipped a sociology class so he could belly up to the metal barrier for the parade.

Fans came wrapped in Red Sox blankets, hoisted brooms to signify the Red Sox sweep of the Rockies, and clutched cups of Dunkin' Donuts coffee to stay warm.

One of the youngest new members of Red Sox Nation, Max Avalone, 2, sat in a jogging stroller that had been adorned with a Red Sox World Series pennant.

"This is pretty historic for him," said his mother, Laura, 39, of Boston's Back Bay. "He doesn't know it yet, but it is."

The T was jam-packed this morning, with long lines to buy Charlie tickets, and commuter trains were busy.

Spokesman Joe Pesaturo said that commuter lines have had their busiest days in history during past football and baseball championship celebrations, as suburban residents flocking to greet their team shared the train with regular business commuters.