more than just a game...
Hey All! I have been absent for a long time, yet have lately been inspired to write. The following was off the cuff, following this evenings baseball game. I am planning to spice it up, stream line it, work on the ending a bit, and then maybe send it to the campus paper. Who knows? They have published me before...
Everything written here is sincere.
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A marker has just been set on the time line that is my life. Events will now be remembered as those that happened before October 27th, 2004, and those that happened after. This was the date on which the Boston Red Sox won game four of the world series against the St. Louis Cardinals, winning the championship title. This was much more than a baseball game to me, just as it was to thousands of fans across the country.
My family moved to Massachusetts back in 1620, on a little ship called the Mayflower. They have been there ever since. I was born in Rhode Island, and was surrounded by Red Sox culture until I moved away at the seven. Despite not being in New England, however, the passion remained with my family. I do not remember the 1986 world series, or the infamous ‘ball through the legs’ incident that it became known for, but I remember my family talking about it. I recall, at age five, wanting to be Roger Clemens when I grew up. I also remember the devastation I felt when he left the team. I remember the crushing anger I felt at age ten, when my little league team was christened ‘the yankees’. I tried as hard as I could not to tell my mother, certain that she would not want to watch me play a single game as a yankee. I remember the division series of 1995, when the Sox lost to the Indians. I remember the American League Championship series of 1999, and falling to the Yankees. How could I forget the devastating seven game battle of 2003? I didn’t get out of bed for two days. Yet after that time, I got up, and was able to celebrate the fact that the team I loved had played a damn good season of baseball.
This is what I was taught by my family, and the fan culture that I was raised in. Victory will not always come. In the case of this team, victory is something we have never known. We have had every reason to drop our allegiance, and pull for someone different. But the love of the game and the team, and really life in general, is about more than trophies and rings. It’s about loving something so much that you are happy to experience the downs, just as well as the ups.
Just days ago, Boston was pretty far down. It looked like they would be swept out of a series against their ultimate rival, without so much as a single victory to bring home. Yet they kept swinging, and brought back something that has never been seen before. A four game winning streak to take the series, followed by a sweep of the world series. Everything was against them. With the ominous Bambino Curse looming in the back ground, nobody thought it could be done. But they did it.
So the joy that is infecting the Red Sox Nation right now is something that is unique. It’s a feeling that can only be experienced by those who have loved something when it is at it’s worst, been faithful to that love, and then witnessed miracles occur. It is the joy that is felt exclusively by those who believed in the impossible, only to see it become awesome reality directly in front of their noses.
I will remember October 27th certainly because it saw the realization of a childhood dream for me, but also because of what it reminded me about life. There is value in faithfulness to an ideal, and in never believing that a curse can hold you back. No matter what history and the odds teach us, we can still pull from behind and slam our dreams over the right field fence. The key is an unwavering belief in oneself, and the vast, God given potential of the human spirit.
Everything written here is sincere.
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A marker has just been set on the time line that is my life. Events will now be remembered as those that happened before October 27th, 2004, and those that happened after. This was the date on which the Boston Red Sox won game four of the world series against the St. Louis Cardinals, winning the championship title. This was much more than a baseball game to me, just as it was to thousands of fans across the country.
My family moved to Massachusetts back in 1620, on a little ship called the Mayflower. They have been there ever since. I was born in Rhode Island, and was surrounded by Red Sox culture until I moved away at the seven. Despite not being in New England, however, the passion remained with my family. I do not remember the 1986 world series, or the infamous ‘ball through the legs’ incident that it became known for, but I remember my family talking about it. I recall, at age five, wanting to be Roger Clemens when I grew up. I also remember the devastation I felt when he left the team. I remember the crushing anger I felt at age ten, when my little league team was christened ‘the yankees’. I tried as hard as I could not to tell my mother, certain that she would not want to watch me play a single game as a yankee. I remember the division series of 1995, when the Sox lost to the Indians. I remember the American League Championship series of 1999, and falling to the Yankees. How could I forget the devastating seven game battle of 2003? I didn’t get out of bed for two days. Yet after that time, I got up, and was able to celebrate the fact that the team I loved had played a damn good season of baseball.
This is what I was taught by my family, and the fan culture that I was raised in. Victory will not always come. In the case of this team, victory is something we have never known. We have had every reason to drop our allegiance, and pull for someone different. But the love of the game and the team, and really life in general, is about more than trophies and rings. It’s about loving something so much that you are happy to experience the downs, just as well as the ups.
Just days ago, Boston was pretty far down. It looked like they would be swept out of a series against their ultimate rival, without so much as a single victory to bring home. Yet they kept swinging, and brought back something that has never been seen before. A four game winning streak to take the series, followed by a sweep of the world series. Everything was against them. With the ominous Bambino Curse looming in the back ground, nobody thought it could be done. But they did it.
So the joy that is infecting the Red Sox Nation right now is something that is unique. It’s a feeling that can only be experienced by those who have loved something when it is at it’s worst, been faithful to that love, and then witnessed miracles occur. It is the joy that is felt exclusively by those who believed in the impossible, only to see it become awesome reality directly in front of their noses.
I will remember October 27th certainly because it saw the realization of a childhood dream for me, but also because of what it reminded me about life. There is value in faithfulness to an ideal, and in never believing that a curse can hold you back. No matter what history and the odds teach us, we can still pull from behind and slam our dreams over the right field fence. The key is an unwavering belief in oneself, and the vast, God given potential of the human spirit.