The boys left it all on the field, which is all we could ever ask. They were wearing down, but they never lost heart and they never stopped playing. They brought us joy and love of the game; they earned our devotion, and our gratitude, and our respect.
So I sit about a quarter-mile form where lockers are being cleaned out, and hugs given, goodbyes said--and I'm disappointed, but not crushed. Pensive, perhaps. I wanted it for them. But I suppose every year deserving players pack and go home before the brass ring is in hand.
I am confident that was not Jason Varitek's last game in a Red Sox uniform. (I am a lot less confident that one or more of my binkies won't wear a different uniform next year, but the playoff ulcer has to heal before I really start thinking about that one...)
Meanwhile, it's time to start mapping out the stepping stones in the river of offseason between now and pitchers and catchers.
The GBSCC show at the Shriners,
New Stars for Young Stars,
the Boston Baseball Writers Dinner (web site not yet updated...)... we'll make our way through, until it all begins again.