The Red Sox are World Champions!
Since falling behind 3-1 to Cleveland, the Sox outscored the Indians and Rockies by a combined 59-15. That sounds more like a Patriots score than something from the baseball playoffs.
I still can’t quite wrap my head around it. It feels great to follow a team from February to October, watching about 1,500 innings of baseball, and be rewarded with a championship. Heck, my in-laws are even getting a free mattress out of the deal. On the other hand, it feels very, very different than 2004.
That championship was about exorcizing a lifetime of baseball disappointment, coming back from impossible odds (again and again and again) against the arch-rival Yankees, getting revenge for the horrible ending to the ’03 season, and doing something that felt truly… cosmic. Like destiny, really. This one was just about rooting for my favorite baseball team. It feels great, but it doesn’t feel special.
I’d rank this championship third in my personal pantheon of favorite sports moments, behind the 2004 Red Sox and the 2001 Patriots, which were different because they were completely unexpected and really had a lot more drama along the way.
That said, there’s plenty to love about this ’07 Red Sox team. Probably my favorite thing is the infusion of youth: Pedroia, Ellsbury, Paps, Lester, Buchholz, Dice-K, Manny Delcarmen… I love the fact that the Sox are building a crop of young talent that will hopefully be around for years and years. Maybe, just maybe, we saw a baseball dynasty born last night.
And speaking of being born, how cool is it that Ethan was born in a year the Red Sox won the World Series?
There’s a monster in my house, and it only comes out at night. Its scientific name is Ethanus Nocturnus, which loosely translates to “Bedtime Ethan.” It is a creature of the most frightening variety. Its roar is a mighty, blood-curdling scream.
Last night, it roared on four seperate occasions.
Thus, while everyone else at my office was enjoying “Red Sox Day” at SmarterTravel—the office didn’t officially open until 10 a.m. today in celebration of the Sox’ Game 2 victory over Colorado—I was up with Ethan at the crack of dawn. Not to mention on several occasions before the crack of dawn, too.
But that’s okay. I still love my little monster.
And just like that, the Red Sox have forced a deciding game 7. I thought they had a chance… I just didn’t expect JD Drew to have anything to do with it. Tonight it’s winner take all with Dice-K on the mound. I’m pleasantly terrified.
So the season continues, thanks in large part to the masterful pitching of Josh Beckett and the bald, sweaty, disgusting melon of Kevin Youkilis. (And no thanks whatsoever to Joe Buck, who feels compelled to invite the wrath of superstitious Sox fans everywhere with comments like, “Josh Beckett really couldn’t be pitching any better tonight.” Thanks, Joe. Like the baseball gods need extra motivation to mess with the Red Sox.)
Anyway, it’s now 3-2, Cleveland, with Game 6 at Fenway on Saturday night and Schill on the hill to face the Indians. Suddenly it feels a little like 2004 again.
Just a little, mind you.
When the Red Sox beat the Yankees in the 2004 ALCS, they downed shots of Jack Daniels to keep them loose before each game. This year I need a shot just to watch them play. Game 5 is tomorrow. Boston’s Last Stand. Ugh.