What a scene
Still processing and digesting what happened last night, what has happened over the past couple of weeks, and what has happened since April, when I first watched the Sox and Yankees square off in a Friday night game on Fox. IN APRIL. That's when I realized that things might be different this year. Televised baseball on Fox doesn't usually happen in April. Already, things felt different.
Down the stretch, things were different too. The errors and downturns that inevitably happen to every team would normally, in any other year, have spelled doom for the Sox and would have put them into a downward spiral. This time, when the errors or pitching mistakes would occur, someone would pick the team up. Someone would step up and make it happen and not let the mistakes drag them down. And it was someone different everytime. You could count on someone to come through and change the course of a game with one swing of the bat or one brilliant play in the field. Or especially one awesome pitching start after another. That can't be overlooked.
Many, many Red Sox fans at the ballpark last night. You could feel the energy and momentum rising as the game went later. Passing another fan with a "B" on his hat, you'd just nod and give each other knowing glances, both with the knowledge that you would probably be witnessing something magical. No words necessary; just a nod and slight hint of a smile would do.
As the final out was made, I got some video of the scene on the field and got a few pictures. Kia and I made our way around the perimeter of the stands and down closer to the action. I was more at peace and just happy than anything else. Just glowing, I think. All the St. Louis fans were very gracious and congratulated the Boston fans as they went past each other. I'm sorry to say that I'm not sure that would have happened in Boston if the reverse were true. Anyway, a huge group of Sox fans congregated behind the Sox dugout and generally waited around to be part of the moment. Players with champagne-soaked shirts came out, the World Series trophy came out, and it was a love-fest. People hugging and giving high fives. Once again, celebrating a series victory in someone else's ballpark. It would have been great (read: mayhem) to win it all at Fenway, but after 86 years, St. Louis is as good a place as any.
2 Comments:
The St. Louis fans were civil to the Red Sox fans?! I think it had more to do with the Red Sox than with St. Louis. Boston just deserves to win. And now if only Chicago (Cubs and White Sox) could get out of its funk. And maybe throw a bone to Cleveland, San Francisco, and lonely Houston.
Back in 1987 I didn't see any civility out of the Cards fans. They threw beer and other trash at Jeffrey Leonard (who in turn hit a homer and rounded the bases with one arm at his side). My only Major League playoff experience happened there (well during that series at Candlestick), on my birthday no less. I had just turned 9, and had to go home with the Cards leading. I was asleep by the time the Giants come back to win the game.
Beej it is now your duty to read Fever Pitch (or at the very least rent the movie). Why do we feel the need to congratulate fans for something they saw? But I found myself doing just that to several Red Sox fans last night and today.
Noah
I really don't have anything else to do...
Noah
From Eric Alterman's Blog:
Sivacation
A couple of weeks ago I rudely introduced our dear friend Charles Pierce with a slogan that implied the Red Sox were destined to fold under the dominant gaze of the Bambino's ghost. I left the country for a week as the Yankees went up by three games. I returned to find the world turned upside down.
Some never thought the Berlin Wall would fall. Others saw no way that Apartheid could wane in South Africa. Others still doubted that we could design a brightly colored water gun that could spray a cat at 20 yards. I never thought I would see this. The Boston Red Sox won a World Series Championship AND Brian Wilson finished Smile. Our foundations tremble. Our belief system is rocked. Babe Ruth matters less. David Hume matters more. Never underestimate the power of human beings to rise up from humiliation.
Melissa cried last night. She burst into tears of joy and relief as the Cardinals ground into their last out. She looked so happy I could not resist a few tears myself. She told me it was the second happiest day of her life, just after the day she married me (and daring to bring a Texan Hindu Yankee fan into her Boston Catholic Red Sox clan). But I am not so sure. I think it's close to a tie. It's not exactly true to say that she has been waiting her whole life for this. More accurately, she never allowed herself to fantasize about it. Yesterday morning she was tense and jumpy. I asked her what it was she was all nervous about. "Everything," she said. "The Red Sox, John Kerry, everything." I told her, "what are you talking about? Your football team has not lost in 21 games. The Sox are up 3-0. And Kerry is winning. What are you worried about?"
"Buckner!" was her terse reply. So this Red Sox victory is more than a dream come true for her. It's a new world entirely.
To every Red Sox fan who looked down at her ticket and read "obstructed view" yet sat through the game behind one of those green posts at Fenway anyway, congratulations for your devotion.
To every Red Sox fan who stood with dignity as drunk Fordham students chanted "1918" in their ears, congratulations for your stoic courage.
To every Red Sox fan who excused letting Fred Lynn, Rick Burleson, Cecil Cooper, Carlton Fisk, Jeff Bagwell, Wade Boggs, Roger Clemens, Mo Vaughn, and Nomar go, figuring it was "best for the team" in the long run, congratulations for your faith.
To my amazing and brilliant wife, who never let herself dream about this day, but got to live it anyway, that you for having such an amazing spirit and infinite patience.
Somewhere, Bart Giamatti is smiling.
Y'all deserve this moment. I know. I am not just a Yankee fan. I am also a Buffalo Bills fan.
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