Mike Lowell waving at us!!! (With Alex Cora) Taken by me!
I have two bosses. The one who went to Colorado and so graciously sent me something to post here, and the other, who has been sending me Red Sox stuff via email for the past week or so and ‘debriefed’ with me every morning after each game. Yesterday, I went into work early (and left early for the parade!) and my second boss, pretty much, didn’t expect me to do anything but talk about the Red Sox. So, yes, I realize how special I have it. 🙂
Yesterday was great. Lots of screaming (I feel like I’ve smoked a pack of cigarettes and I don’t smoke!) and just general merry-making. I’ll have a detailed ‘report’ of the events of the day later on tonight, but, for now, I just have to say thank you to my friends Kelly and Cindy for being so much fun (and so crazy with me)! We had a blast – and we even got ourselves on Kyle Snyder’s video (hey, it helps when you bring a poster-sized version of a picture of the guy!).
The dinks on Comcast Sports Net were complaining about the Rolling Rally being ‘done’ and saying the Sox should stop at a designated place and ‘talk’ like the Patriots did. I have to disagree. First off, the Sox have only done this twice…it’s way too soon for it to be ‘old’. And did you see how many people were at City Hall Plaza, even though they knew the Sox weren’t going to stop and ‘talk’? Luckily, Kelly scoped out a spot for us on Boylston Street where the crowd was only two deep (and we were right in front at the barriers!) so we didn’t have to deal with the insane amount of people who came out for this thing. It was great to see all of the red in the city, though, and it was especially satisfying to see all the "Don’t Sign ARod" and "Sign Mike Lowell" signs and t-shirts. Way to come through, Nation!
I’m sore, I’m tired, and I just want to sleep for about three days. That won’t be happening, though, as today ‘real life’ kicks back in. No complaints from me. Spending the fall and winter warm with the knowledge that our boys did it again will keep me going!
Man, I can’t wait to buy the dvd set. 🙂
I don’t get personal on here too often – and I certainly don’t talk about my job in specific detail, but those who know me know how I feel about my job and what the atmosphere is in my office. And they know how the people I work with, especially my bosses, not only accept, but fuel the fire that is my love of the Red Sox.
I’m in the position not many bloggers are in, which is that my bosses know about my blog. I respect boundaries…I don’t usually post during work hours (unless something dramatic like Bronson Arroyo being traded or the Red Sox winning the World Series happens!) and my bosses are more than supportive of my ‘obsession’. The Red Sox are a big part of the culture in my office so the fact that I was at game one and my boss was at game four meant a lot to many of us there.
I asked him to give me a little write-up to post here. Hoping he could give us a taste of what it was like out there, but not convinced he’d want to take the time after partying all night – and I was terribly pleased when he emailed me this afternoon with a letter he wrote me on the flight home today.
I’m hoping for a picture or two from him when he has a chance to decompress, and I’ll add them if I get them.
For now, I leave you with the message from him, which means the world to me – and I add my thanks to him for being so generous, not only in doing this, but for everything else that I don’t need to mention here. 🙂
October 29, 2007
First time long time. As I write this, I have my 6’5” frame stuffed into a middle seat on a 4 hour Denver-Boston flight after game 4. I’m hung-over. I can’t talk. I’ve slept maybe a total of 6 ½ in the last three days.
Does it get any better than this?
I wanted to share some observations from my game four experience in Denver to maybe supplement some of the Red Sox news and happenings that we’re all immersed in right now. This was the first away playoff game that I’ve been to and I have to say that the Nation showed up in Denver big time. I was a little concerned heading out there about being outnumbered in hostile territory but a) it wasn’t hostile territory, which I’ll get to in a minute, and b) we were nowhere near as outnumbered as I had expected. I’d say 20% of the crowd was Sox fans and they really made it seem more like half.
From the Blake Street bars to Coors Field, Red Sox Nation was everywhere. Most Sox fans that I happen to meet were from neither Boston nor Denver but they were all true Nation members, knowledgeable, loyal and wicked glad to be there. When the game ended and the Rockies fans had filtered out of the stadium, I’m guessing there were 10-15k Sox fans in the stands cheering the team. An hour and a half later, there were still half of those. We all missed the details of the clubhouse celebration and the interviews on the field but it didn’t matter.
And I have to say that I have nothing but respect for the Rockies fans. As tough as it must have been to have been swept, particularly after such a remarkable run up to that point, I did not have a hostile interaction with a single Rockies fan the whole night. In fact, a lot of the Denver fans in our section were sharing high fives with us after the game and sincerely congratulated us. Now, granted, they don’t have the storied history that we do, the magnitude of seemingly eternal disappointment that has caused so much psychological scaring.
And good for them, I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.
But they were truly generous hosts. Some of us could learn a little something from them. A few headlines from the Denver Post this morning read; “Colorado’s miraculous late-season surge comes to a sad ending in final four games”, “Nothing can erase joy of Rockies amazing ride”, “Rockies feel the pain, but not the shame”.
Sounds a lot like Dan Shaughnessy doesn’t it?
Thanks for adding something special to an unbelievable season Cyn.
Now get back to work.
A message from Mike at "Donateyourtaco.com":
Thanks to Jacoby a site has gone up that asks you to donate your FREE Taco Bell taco in hopes that Taco Bell will add that value up as a donation to help the victims of the California wildfires.
Donate your taco before 5pm on Tuesday!
So go donate, people! Let’s turn Taco Bell’s and MLB’s greed into something GOOD!
It isn’t the best quality (considering I recorded it with my camera, off of a tv, while drinking champagne and crying…) but it’s absolutely worth watching. Especially if you haven’t seen it yet!
And my apologies to those of you who can’t access YouTube from work. Here’s a transcription of what you’re missing.
Don Orsillo is interviewing Tim Wakefield and Mike Timlin approaches, puts his arm around Wake and looks right into the camera:
"I just want to say one thing. This guy right here… this win is for this man right here. (Wake shakes his head ‘no’) Because he was not on the roster and he showed so much heart by saying ‘I can’t be on the roster’ and it was ‘good for the team’. This is what kind of person is standing right here. I love this guy I’m proud of this guy…It’s the hardest thing to do, to take yourself out of the game for someone else, but he did it and I’m proud of him."
Wake then says "Thanks, man" and they hug.
I still cry every time I see it.
Congratulations to the 2007 World Champion Boston Red Sox!
I know everyone wants to compare this team to the 2004 team, but there is no comparison. The 2004 team made history, and there will never be a team as ‘special’ as that one. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m a lot more choked up about this win than I was the one in 2004. That October night, I was stunned more than anything else. I celebrated with a few whoops and some quiet tears. Tonight, I sit with the tears flowing right along with the champagne. Two World Series wins in my lifetime. Two. With the promise of more to come. It’s almost more than I can even comprehend right now.
This team won the division. They swept the LDS. They came back after being down 3-1 in the LCS to win and they swept a white-hot Colorado team to win the World Series. There are no loopholes. There are no goats. There are only rookies and veterans and fans who never gave up hope even after finishing third in the division last year.
We’ve ALL earned it. Every last one of us. So enjoy it, Red Sox fans…enjoy it.
And if we aren’t happy enough – the MVP goes to Mike Lowell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(And there are more tears. The man deserved it! And his ass better be re-signed in Boston for 2008, Theo!)
Man, I can’t wait for this parade!
(More coherent thoughts on this wonderfulness tomorrow! Tonight, I’m celebrating!!!!)
Fuck you, ARod, for trying to weasel your assholey way in on this night, you greedy, money-grubbing, publicity whore.
And Fuck Fox, Ken Rosenthal, Tim McCarver and Joe Buck for all encouraging it and going along with it.
Tonight’s story, thus far, is how fabulous Jon Lester pitched and the fact that the Red Sox are (currently) an inning and a half away from possibly sweeping the World Series. Who cares what ARod is doing?
And who couldn’t have waited until the end of the week to find out?
I hope there isn’t a team in MLB stupid enough to give this man the contract he wants.
And I hope the Red Sox finish this up tonight. For many reasons. But now, not the least of which is to push ARod the hell off the front page of the Sports section for a little while longer.
God, what an ass.
Photo lifted from Yahoo! Sports
How disappointed do you think Joe Buck and Tim McCarver were that:
1) Manny didn’t make an error in that ‘vast’ outfield?
2) Papi didn’t make an error manning first base with his bad knees? *
3) Matsuzaka didn’t implode?
4) Coco Crisp got a hit after they ranted about Francona putting him in?
5) Manny getting thrown out at home didn’t have any affect on the final score?
6) The Red Sox came back and added on to that one-run lead?
See, the things that make Schmuck and McAsswipe sad make me very happy!
Can you all grasp that next season we’re going to have Pedroia and Ellsbury in the same lineup ALL SEASON LONG? 🙂
How amazing were they? 7 hits between them. 7-10 with 4 RBI. Thank you, rookies, thank you!
Another game where the entire team came through! And for the ones who didn’t (I’m looking at you, bullpen) the team came back and picked them up.
*If one more person tries to convince me that Papi can’t play first base, I will stomp on them until they are teeny pieces of dust. You’ve been warned.
Kudos to the Rockies for making a game of it. Longest 9-inning game in World Series history. I could have lived without the stupid rally towels, but aside from that, the fans and the team really hung in there. Good job!
With Lester on the mound tomorrow night, I have my first concern that the Sox could lose a game. I truly, TRULY hope he proves me wrong because I am NOT one of those fans who thinks it would be okay to lose a couple of games and then have the team win it in Boston. I want them to win and I want them to win quickly, dammit! It’s nice to have a 3-0 cushion, though, knowing the pitching is going to be a little suspect for us tomorrow night. Thanks for that, fellas.
Tomorrow will possibly be one of the longest days in my life. Not that I’m complaining. (Okay, I’m complaining a little. Saturday and Sunday World Series games should start earlier than 8:30pm!)
I know a couple who will be at the game tomorrow night. It would make me very happy for them to see the Sox win it all in person. Here’s hoping, eh fans?
Note from Cyn: When my friend Tru told me he was going to Game 2, after expressing my joy for him, I asked him if he would consider contributing a write-up of his experience for me to publish here. He graciously agreed – so here it is! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did.*
I’m sitting in my office, too tired to do anything productive, which according to some is usual, but does not mitigate the utter exhaustion; I’m bone tired. It’s been about 12 hours (2ish as I write this), since I got home from game 2 of the World Series. It seems like such a blur now, almost as though it was a wedding day, where the anticipation of a truly great event was about to unfold. It had all the elements; nervousness, excitement, and the preparation fades and gives way so quickly to being over, it’s surreal, and almost as if I had not been through the experience.
I spoke to Brenken this morning, rambling on like a loon about the game. She, as always, was patient to listen to my nonsense and then proceeded to remind me that I had attended at least one game in each of the playoffs; LDS, ALCS and now the World Series. Of course what she said is true, but I did not string those thoughts together, at least not as I should have. So, it comes to pass that Cyn, the Beazer, mother of Johnny Damon’s children, and all things Mike Timlin asked me to write a recollection of thoughts about going to the World Series. She did this via the marvel of text messaging, as I sat in seat 21, row 1, and section 25.
The first thing I guess should be mentioned is who do you go to a game with? My wife, who is a saint, does not like baseball, and for her to go would mean reading a book in the chill October air. I could only imagine a befuddled FOX reporter coming up to ask pressing questions about reading books between innings, and if they were her published works. But for that to happen would mean she’d look like Stephen King, which she doesn’t, but it would also mean the question asked would be so mind numbingly stupid, Buck and McCarver would spend hours pointing at one another asserting it was “he” who came up with them in the first place.
I chose a lifelong friend, a guy I grew up with in Connecticut who lives nearby me in New Hampshire. Like me, he’s a devout fan of the game and is a long time Sox follower. He’s a cancer survivor, rode in the Mass Pan Challenge, and is seeing life entirely different these days. We had dinner near the Prudential Center then hiked to Fenway for the game. We were all of sixteen again, flush with the excitement of what was to come, the whole while jibber jabbering about the players we had versus those that the Rockies had.
We walked up Ipswich Street until following Lansdowne, looping around the front of Brookline Avenue and onto Yawkey Way to take it in from all sides of Fenway. The moon was already in the sky, with the Hood blimp hovering over the park. People were looking back towards Copley Square, pointing their cameras, and snapping pictures to capture the angles of Fenway, with the “Go Sox” lit windows of the Pru. I have such an image on my cell phone. There is only one other time I can recall Yawkey Way so over congested with wall to wall people. That was game seven of the ALCS. But then, the mood was much different than last night.
The anticipation of the game I saw last night had an air of confidence to it, which when contrasted to the final game of the ALCS was much more apprehensive. People last night seemed sure and confident in their team and the differences were rather palpable. The Sox were playing the brand of baseball that we saw at the beginning of the season, with right mix of good pitching, defense and offense. This was the conversation I was getting bits and pieces of wherever it was being discussed. And while the game was clearly a tremendous tussle over who could extort the other’s pitching, you never got the sense of dread that usually hung over the park in days gone by; the Red Sox were not going to lose.
Although this was my first World Series, and I have no other to compare it with, there were a lot of other things taking place that did not appeal to me. Upon entering the park, DHL was giving away yellow square towels that had their logo on it, along with MLB’s trademark and the World Series logo. It struck me that DHL’s gaudy yellow color was the point, not the World Series participants, as neither team’s logo’s were anywhere to be found. I don’t know about you, but the whorish nature of MLB was in full view for me, where anything is possible for a buck; it’s no wonder the things were being given away for free. “How do you do, devout baseball fan, and welcome to historic Fenway Park. Here is a meaningless trinket as a memento of your World Series experience, from a company who you should patronize.
It was also distracting to see how the game flow was disrupted by the influence of FOX broadcasting it. I’m by no means naïve, and do understand that to undertake a world wide telecast of the games, it requires a lot of careful coordination so that everyone gets their chance to hawk their product. Watching the FOX people cuing the umpires as to when they could resume the game caused players to stand round for an addition 10 ~ 15 seconds, which was garbage. More than once, Fuentes and Okajima approached the mound after their warm up tosses, only to walk off and wait for the ads to end.
I ‘texted’ the Beazer that there were some people waving those stupid yellow towels around when something good happened. It was to me a sacrilege. Okay, I know that people were showing their unbridled enthusiasm for the play on the field, but I also could not help thinking that hold up a second, this is not your ordinary ball park. This is Fenway, one of the very few places that does not require prompting or cues from an electronic sign to tell when you something important is about to happen or going to. So watching those smattering of yellow towel wavers, it felt out of place and not befitting the Sox. Since the Rockies team colors are not remotely near yellow, I could only guess it was people who happened to be in Fenway because it was the best show in town, or the best place to be seen in town. There’s a DHL receptacle at the end of the street in my office park. I deposited my yellow towel into the receptacle this morning, bowed my head for a moment, sipped my Dunkin Donuts and headed over to the office for much needed rest.
Yet, despite these trivial annoyances, the actual baseball rose to the top, as it always does and holds the superior position to all other things that are going on around you. You notice that people leave their seats a lot less than they do during a regular season game, or that their focus is total baseball and not what’s going on at the office that week, or anything other than the game. I spent a lot of time on my feet, and on every critical play, be it a foul ball, or superb pick off at first base, everything had the full attention of the packed park. And when certain occurred, the cheers were deafening; Tek’s sacrifice to tie the game and Lowell’s winning RBI. But there were three other moments that stood out beyond that, when Fenway thundered beyond anything I’d ever heard in all the years being lucky enough to get inside to watch the Sox play.
First was when Schilling left the game. His outing, while not vintage Curt, where he blew by batters in days of yore, was more than good enough. He went 5 1/3 and allowed one run. I could not help feeling weird, knowing that this might well be the last time Schilling pitches in Fenway and, for the Red Sox. He has become legend here, for all the reasons we know, but there he was, giving everything he had, and got it done. The woman who was in front of us was using a handkerchief; I thought she was wiping her nose. My friend said no, she was crying. It was a moment that will live in my memory for a long, long time.
Okajima brought the house down a second time, with his peerless performance. His pitching was spectacular. Cyn ‘texted’ to me that FOX gave him player of the game. They got it right.
The last time Fenway shook was when Papelbon came in and closed out the game. His entrance into the game is so terrific, so showmanship, it requires everyone to do their part. Cue up the Troggs Wild Thing, then Bill Dunn, the Boston cop who stands in the pen and fists Papelbon as he emerges from the pen and races across the outfield. Stopping just before the infield grass, he puts his head down, dressing his toes to the grass and square his shoulders, Papelbon makes his way slowly to the mound. Before stepping on the hill, the infielders depart, while he stretches his glove hand out for Francona to deposit the ball into his mitt, never once looking at each other or exchanging as much as a word. And as Francona heads back to the dugout, there is his battery mate, standing with his toes dressed to the rubber, while his pitcher gets a few inches from his masked face. It’s always the same and I never get sick of seeing this happen. Fenway always goes out of its mind. And why not? It is all about what was to come, and did. The place was rocking.
From our seats, we had a clear view of center field, and in particular the people who were dangling these large Sox socks. In between innings, they had the socks running, or walking, or jumping. Flash bulbs went off all the time, and people, aside from being chilly seemed happy; very happy. Several of our cyber friends were at the park, scattered about from the SRO section behind home plate, to the bleachers and elsewhere. My neighbor, who was gracious enough to take me to the final ALCS game, was there, and we talked about how great the team this year was. And this team is that, are they not? I’m at once lucky and happy and a little bit humbled by the whole experience. Baseball and the Red Sox have infused themselves into my life, well past wearing a cap or jacket. It’s as though the World Series experience is an affirmation of me through them. The ups, the downs, and all the struggle along the way that culminates in what becomes a life story. They make me feel good, and have let me down. They’re good and bad, yet the whole time I believe in them. But they never quit. Going there reminded me of that, reminded me that this is why so many great minds have written so beautifully and affectionately about baseball, and why it is so personal and all consuming to try and live up to being the very best you can be. It was a great night, and not just because the Sox won the game. It’s taken a very long time for me just to be able to get here and it was well worth the trip.
Two more games. Faith in two.
Fair warning: It’s another long one!
- So I get to my seat in time for the pre-game festivities. To start the game, Kelly and I are in singles on opposite sides. She’s on the first base side and I’m on the third base line. Just before I’m about to walk the mile of stairs to my seat, a couple try to sneak by me. I turn, along with my bag, and knock the beer right out of the guy’s hand. His girl yells, “that was an eight-dollar beer!” and I sheepishly smile and continue to my seat. (Were this a regular-season game, I’d have bought the guy another beer. But this is the playoffs. For all I know, they worked for Fox.) I’m sitting at the top of an aisle. You walk up this aisle and halfway it stops and you come to my seat. “Hello!” Prior to the start of the game, at least five people walk all the way up the aisle, thinking they can get to their seats, only to be greeted by me, sitting in my seat, smiling. I sit next to a lovely, friendly couple who have season tickets and like to talk about baseball. Things are looking up since the near-brawl in the beer line.
- Another odd Rockies fan encounter: While I’m talking to the perfectly nice man next to me, two Rockies fans turn to us and start waving their signs at us. Their signs read: “We love our Rockies”. We can’t figure out why they would feel the need to wave these AT Red Sox fans. Perfectly nice man deadpans to them, “Good for you” and gives them a golf clap.
- For some inexplicable reason, they don’t announce the team rosters individually. Everyone comes milling out onto the field. Rockies in front of me, Sox in front of Kelly. They then introduce the starting lineups. I feel a little cheated, or at least disappointed. I wanted Kyle Snyder to get ‘announced’ at Fenway. I suspect they made the decision to forgo the entire team announcements in the event Red Sox fans planned on letting the Front Office know exactly how they felt about Eric Gagne being on the roster.
- John Williams and the Boston Pops do a stirring rendition of the National Anthem. (Although someone hits some bad-ass note to start things off. AUGH MY EARS!) While they are all leaving the field, PA announcer Carl Beane tells us to watch the scoreboard and we get to see Red Sox highlights set to the music of Mr. Williams. I see my team and I hear the Jurassic Park theme and I cry.
- The Sox have trotted out the big old American Flag and have it hanging on the Green Monster. Admittedly, they do this a lot. And I’ve been at Fenway in person to see it many, many times. Regardless, it never gets old. Hell, I even know what awaits behind the flag, yet I STILL get excited when I see members of the ’67 Red Sox come out and walk across the field. The game hasn’t begun yet, and I think I’ve already screamed and cheered more than I did all season long. Yaz throws out the ceremonial first pitch and then high-fives his old teammates. All the while, still looking a bit cranky.
- Johnny Pesky places the game ball on the rubber on the mound…and there are more tears.
- For the love of God, when the hell is this game going to start?
- Hey, it’s time to start the game, HOORAY!
- First Inning – Beckett strikes out the side and the guy from the friendly couple next to me gently high fives me. (I love when guys do that. As if my dainty hands are too delicate to take on a real high-five!) Oh and not too soon after Pedroia smacks Jeff Francis’ second pitch out of the park. At this moment, I scream “MUNCHKIN!!!!!!!!” and friendly guy high fives me so hard I fall back into my seat.
- Sox score three runs before the first inning is over and I look around for a Rockies fan. Any Rockies fan. Can’t see any. Well, I did see one and he was taking OFF his Rockies cap. Way to show support fella!
- Second Inning – Sox score another run thanks to Youk and Papi. I like this scoring every inning stuff.
- Third Inning – JD Drew grounds out to make the second out of the inning. Idiot woman behind me screams for him to “start earning his money!!”. I control myself enough that I don’t slap her around, but I do glare at her. I’m so intimidating.
- All the while, during these innings, the crowd is chanting “Fran-cis”. A small part of me feels sorry for him. Another part of me thinks it’s funny. Yet another part of me starts thinking about “The Simpsons” episode with all the baseball players as ringers for Mr. Burns:
Marge: Children, that’s not very nice!
Lisa: Mom, they’re professional athletes; they’re used to this sort of thing. It rolls right off their backs.
*Strawberry silently wipes away a tear
I’m slightly sadistic that way.
- Fourth Inning – With every two-strike count (beginning in the first inning) we’re standing with Josh. The ten/eleven year old kid behind me is getting pissed and keeps complaining to his mother. A woman who tells him to, basically, suck it up. Also, Sox score after Francis loads the bases by intentionally walking Mike Lowell to pitch to Jason Varitek (who proceeds to hit a ground-rule double. Smart move, Clint!). JD ends the inning by striking out. Stupid woman yells about his salary again. I, amazingly, don’t kill her.
- Fifth Inning – Julio Lugo gets things started with a single and when Franklin Morales (now in for the hapless Mr. Francis) keeps throwing to first, some guys behind me start yelling “Don’t deny us our tacos!!!!!!!!” Sadly, he does. But only because Jacoby Ellsbury bunts into a fielder’s choice and Lugo is out at second. Oh well. There will be tacos soon! Morales balks (something I completely miss because the guy in the row ahead of us decides now is a good time to go get a beer) Jacoby to second and Youk doubles him home. This is followed by many singles, doubles and a walk which net us 3 more runs. But wait! The fun isn’t over yet. Morales is replaced by Ryan Speier. Now they’ll show us! 3 more walks, 3 more runs. Goodbye, Ryan. Thanks for coming. Matt Herges comes in and gets Youk out to end the inning. A seven-run, fifth inning. During the first game of the World Series. The guy next to me is practically hugging me at this point.
- Sixth Inning – It is at this point, that I get a text message from Kelly telling me that the couple next to her have left the game so I can go over and sit with her. Yes, you read that correctly. Going into the sixth inning of a World Series game, they left. Turns out they knew the owner of the Rockies and had a party to get to. Well, thank you, I now get to spend the rest of the game with my friend, and experience the World Series from two different views!
- Seventh Inning – Jeez this is a long game! Carl Beane announces that Coco Crisp is in, replacing Manny, and Coco gets quite the ovation. Oh how we long for a world where Coco and Jacoby can co-exist without us having to pick a favorite. Ashanti sings “God Bless America” during the seventh-inning stretch and I long for John Williams.
- Eighth Inning – Kelly had seen Manny Delcarmen warming up, so with my back to the field, I am stunned to hear the beginning strains of “Black Betty”. Anyone who has ever sat at a game with me when that song comes on, knows what happens next. I scream my patented ‘woo’ scream (that, apparently, needs to be heard to be truly appreciated) and I scare the hell out of the two, twenty-something Rockies fans I’m now sitting next to. Seem like nice enough kids, though, and they keep asking the guys behind us questions about Fenway, the Sox and Boston sports in general. We get to see Eric Hinkse and Coco Crisp bat in a World Series game, and even though they both make outs, we cheer them and show them the love. The Rockies fans get to experience “Sweet Caroline” and look a bit…stunned. My man Mike, incidentally, pitches a 1-2-3 inning – striking out Willy Tavares and the weight-lifting, Matt Holliday.
- Holy cow it’s the ninth inning! Did I really think this game was taking a long time? It can’t be over yet!!
- I’m probably right about that since Eric Gagne is coming into the game. One of the guys behind me taps one of the Rockies fans on the shoulder and says, “Don’t worry, your team still has a really good chance to come back!”. Not getting the significance of what he’s being told, the Rockies fan responds with, “I just want it to be OVER!”.
- Depending on your point of view, Gagne either disappoints or he doesn’t. Dude pitches a clean inning and, like that, the game is over. We scream, we yell, we high five and we sing “Dirty Water”, “Tessie” and “Joy to the World”. We then high-tail it out of there and actually snag SEATS on the train. Tonight, God loves the Red Sox and their fans. Take that, Rockies!
- On the train, I turn to Kelly and tell her I have the urge to…hell I just go ahead and let out a ‘woo-hoo’! What a friggin’ fabulous night! We part ways, I get a cab driver who wants to talk about baseball, and I’m home around before 1am. (I then, of course, stay up until 2am watching Comcast Sports Net, NESN and ESPN!)