Red Sox win World Series: this is what it's supposed to feel like

It’s been less than 24 hours and I’m still beaming. It’s a very weary, tired and scummy beaming, but nonetheless….

Thursday, October 28th was the
day we always wondered about – the day after the Boston Red Sox won a
World Series. Like most of you, the constant good thoughts and random
fist-pumping/fits of yelling excitedly/smiling for no reason have not
left you all day and probably won’t for a while. This is what it’s
like…this is what it’s like to realize a dream and become a winner.

This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

I work in an office that, despite
being 45-minutes from Boston, only features five or so Red Sox fans.
The others are a mix of Phillies, Indians, Twins and Cardinals fans who
couldn’t even begin to imagine what was churning inside us today. It’s
been said that if you’re not from New England and not a true Sox fan,
you will never really understand. People may scoff at that notion, but
it’s true. You just can’t.

Watching everyone try to get stuff
accomplished today (a normal positive in most offices) was an act of
futility. Talking, laughing, sighing and even just sitting in silence
with other Sox fans while drinking some Dunkin’ Donuts coffee? That’s
what today was supposed to be about. Waking up and realizing that it
wasn’t a dream? That’s what today was supposed to be about. Calling the
guy that got you into the Sox to begin with? That’s what today was
supposed to be about. Thursday, October 28 was not a day for work – it
was an unofficial Red Sox Nation holiday.

This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

Between the game and the
post-game festivities – seeing them celebrate, seeing the joy, seeing
the images of heroes past that couldn’t accomplish the goal – it was
like a movie, a great big beautiful movie. Everything just came
together, 18 years after the Sox lost Game 7 in 1986. The signs were
there and looking back, this was the way it was supposed to happen.

We
were supposed to lose that Game 7 to the Yankees last season…it set
everything in motion. If you look at it, this season was perhaps the
greatest story in sports. Seriously…

• a great defeat (game 7) followed by a triumpant return (start of the season)
• a strong beginning followed by all lost hope (middle of the season) only to end with an unexpected surge (August)
• amazing characters (what don’t you know about this team?)
• twists and turns (Nomar, free agents, Francona)
• an emotionally draining final step against all odds to get to the promise land (THE Yankees Series)
• a nation waiting (the fans from San Fran to Boston and beyond)
• a dream realized

But what was it that didn’t seem
right? Wasn’t it supposed to be harder than this? Where was the
heartache? Where was the moment when we hung our heads and said, “Not
again”? It never happened because of the best sign of all was that this
team was really, really good

This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

They told us this club was built
for a World Series. We didn’t believe them. Lucchino, Henry and Epstein
all said to Keep The Faith and that everything would be ok. We didn’t
believe them. When the team went into a .500 swoon, Pedro started
making waves and the Nomar situation reached critical mass, they told
us it would be ok. And they were right. All along, they were right. No
false hopes. No empty promises. The day after Game 7 of last season,
they said we’d be back to win it. And we did.

This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

But with every ying comes a yang.
What made it so special to be a Red Sox fan was that certain something
that very few other teams truly have – passion. Through generations,
the burden of being a Sox fan was handed down to us like a bad sweater.
We learned about the game, learned about our players and over time,
became the most knowledgable fans in baseball. We learned to eat,
sleep, breathe and cry the Red Sox.

This team did what is almost
impossible to do: cross every kind of barrier (gender, race, age)
possible. Men, women, kids, grandmas, grandpas, aunts, uncles, dogs,
cats: everyone could get into the Sox. It became the glue that held so
many of us together – a common bond in a world that is rapidly losing
the few it once had. When they won, we’d rejoice. When they’d lose, we
ached. Oh, did we ache. Sports teams aren’t supposed to make people
feel like this, a few steps shy of mass hysteria. But the Red Sox did,
but will that change?

While we’ve gained something big,
Red Sox Nation has also lost something big – the only identity we’ve
every known as the chasers and not the champs. What helped make that
bond so strong was hope and faith that someday, it would be our time.
It ironclad 86 years worth of fans who all wanted the same thing. Now,
it’s all changed. We’ve won. That hope and faith has been realized and
we can enjoy what we’ve wanted for so long. Will it feel the same next
year?

Will cheering this team onto victory mean the same now that we’ve
experienced what it’s all about? Will being a Red Sox fan be any
different now? It’s a scary thought, almost like losing a loved one.
Next year will be surreal to say the least. This team deserves the same
love, deserves the same following and deserves the Nation cheering it
on for another title. We’ll have to wait until next year to see if it
happens. Be careful of what you wish for…we now have it.

That’s what it’s supposed to feel like.

So after seven months and the
past two fantastic weeks, it’s time to take a break from the Sox.
Honestly, I’m worn out. But that’s not stopping me at 9:22 on Thursday
night, trying to find anything reminiscent of 24 hours ago when just
for a while, everything was right with the world. But that world is
starting to move on, looking to shift our focus on an election, the NBA
or anything else that is just plain ‘next’ even though all we want to
do is have time stand still. Sadly, this feeling will go away with time
– all strong emotions do. But I made a decision to have a copy of
today’s headlines framed and keep it as a constant reminder that no
matter what happens, life was never so good as it felt today. Ever.

And that’s what today felt like to me.

ALCS 2004 Chapter 7: Believe

I was visiting my buddy Clyde on a cold, almost frigid, night in
Bangor, ME, over the winter. We entered a bar – probably our third of
the night – and ordered a couple Captain n’ Cokes. As I took the first
few sips, I turned and looked at the tv to see what was on. ESPNews was
on and they were talking about Alex Rodriguez and how the Yankees were
finalizing a trade for him. It felt like finding out they had put urine
in my drink – putrid, shocking and ultimately, disappointing. The most
expensive team in the sport had stolen arguably the greatest player in
the sport from the clutches of the Red Sox. They had won again…

…but not tonight.

For the first time in a long time, we won. We beat the New York
Yankees in Game 7 of the ALCS in their stadium in not just a win…a
blowout win. I feel like someone dropped off $1 million tax-free on my
front step. I don’t know what to do, how to think, how to feel. I’ve
never been here before and I hope I never leave.

What feels so good is that for once, it’s the Yankees that have to
answer the questions. They had us down 3-0 and on the ropes in not just
one, but two games. But the Sox came back and got to within 3-2 in two
of the most incredible marathon games you’ll ever see. Then Jesus
Schilling provided us with one of those Boston Sports Legends moments
in throwing a Game 6 that will go down as one of the most impressive
efforts from an athlete period ever.

The great Yankees, not the Sox, now have to answer questions about
their manager and his decisions. The great Yankees, not the Sox, will
now have to answer to their fans about how a $190 million team could
falter this badly. A-Jerk now has the offseason to stew about his
karate chop, which doesn’t bother me a bit. Body language tells a lot
and believe me, he is one of the most underrated a**holes in baseball.
And best of all, the team that used its money and clout to steal Hideki
Matsui and Jose Contreras from our grasp can now use that money for
something useful – attempting to buy World Series tickets in Fenway
Park on Saturday.

Some random thoughts I jotted down from the night:

-We had so many Dagger Chances – opportunites to drive the stake
down the Yankees heart for good – that is made even a seven-run lead
tense. Bellhorn, Nixon and Ramirez all had chances to put this lead to
ridiculous proportions. Sitting here now, who cares? But then, even a
37-2 lead would be nerve-wracking.

-Derek Lowe was PHENOMENAL, perhaps making back some of the money he
lost during the season. But when Francona decided to bring in Pedro
during the seventh inning, I got Vietnam Vet-style flashbacks of last
year’s seventh. When the Yanks hit back-to-back doubles? I developed a
twitch.

(side note: It’s 1 am and I’m watching the coverage of the Boston
post-game ‘get-together.’ They’re trying to basically take apart a
McDonald’s near the park and the riot police are out. This could get
very ugly.)

-When Bellhorn hit the two-run homer to give the Sox 10 runs in the
top of the eighth, it was the first time I thought, ‘This could
happen.’ However, I didn’t say it out loud and quickly scolded myself
for such a ridiculous thought. Manny then popped up for the 20th
straight time and quickly brought myself back to earth.

-A very high-ranking guy at work today said flatly, “You know they
(the sox) are going to lose tonight…don’t you?” I feel like painting a
giant B and the word ‘Believe’ on his desk.

-Timlin shutting down Jeter, A-Jerk and Sheffield in the 8th. A HUGE
turning point. Granted there was a huge lead, but it’s the little
things that put your mind at ease. The ohmigodohmygodohmygod feelings
begin…

-Before the bottom of the ninth, obvious drama is involved. So
instead of maybe sticking with the action and talking about what we’re
about to see, Fox cuts to commercials, one of which is that stupid
Wendy’s un-official spokesman having a random conversation with some
curly-haired wise ass kid. I mean, there are times to accentuate drama
and times to cut away. This was not a time to cut away.

-Timlin walks two with two outs in the ninth and Alan Embree has to
come in. Is anything easy for us? If Fan Man dropped in and delayed the
game, I wouldn’t be surprised. There’s nothing like that paranoia
feeling to make you feel alive. I’m finding myself justifying how the
Yankees could come back and screw the Sox again. Mind you, there’s two
outs and the Sox have a seven-run lead. Yet, I’m still not convinced.

Finally, elation. F**k the curse, f**k 1918, f**k it all. We finally
won and will now host Game 1 of the World Series on Saturday night.
Surreal to say the least…

by the way, does anyone know what day it is?