Tag Archives: World Series

Winning the World Series: do the last 10 games matter?

A lot was made of the recent losing woes of the Red Sox and how going into the playoffs amidst a losing streak spelled doom for the Boston Local 9.

If you look at the last 10 World Series champions, it could. Then again, it might be just a meaningless side note.

From 1999-2008, six of the eventual champs went into the playoffs on a winning record, including the last two. Only three had losing records: the 2000 Yankees (2-8 and lost their last seven games), the 2002 Anaheim Angels (4-6) and the 2006 St. Louis Cardinals (3-7).

One team (the ’99 Yankees) went in at .500 in their last 10 games.

  • 1999:  NYY 5-5
  • 2000:  NYY 2-8
  • 2001:  Arizona 7-3
  • 2002:  Anaheim 4-6
  • 2003:  Florida 7-3
  • 2004:  Boston 7-3
  • 2005:  Chicago White Sox 8-2
  • 2006:  St. Louis 3-7 (only played 161 games)
  • 2007:  Boston 6-4
  • 2008:  Philadelphia 7-3

With two games left, the Sox are 4-6 in their last 10 and no matter what they do, they will go in on a losing record. Does it mean anything? Probably not as there are a ton of other factors that affect playoff performance like playoff opponents, setting up your pitching and injuries.

It’s an interesting stat, but not really that meaningful. Cementing your playoff status earlier than later and putting yourself in a prime position to win is what’s important. But hearing all of the chatter this week, you’d think the Red Sox have no chance at winning a title because of their recent play.

Last I checked, Jon Lester and Josh Beckett are your Game 1 and 2 starters and the rest of the team is healthy and ready to roll. That’s really what matters, isn’t it?

Josh Nason is the main writer for Small White Ball, a New England-based sports and media blog on the MVN Network. Reach him via Twitter or josh [at] smallwhiteball [dot-com]. 

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.