From three different time zones yesterday, members of my family watched as the Red Sox mounted one of the greatest comebacks in baseball in eight decades.
While I am not certain exactly where in Aruba my parents witnessed as the Sox began the long climb out of the giant crater they dug for themselves, my grandmothers back east sat frozen in front of their television screens as I stared at my phone, yelling expletives from the backseat of a cab in San Francisco.
Sidenote:I received an e-mail yesterday afternoon from my folks saying they had survived the hurricane. The beaches were gone. Human waste decorated the streets. But all was well – the drinks were still flowing and the Sox were playing!
I shot back the following email:
Holy smokes! I didn’t know there was a hurricane in Aruba. It sounds like you are all accounted for and ok. I wouldn’t drink the water unless there is a lot of booze in it. Tonight is do or die. The prognosis doesn’t look good. But as we all know: There is no team better at digging themselves out of a hole than the BoSox.
I am still in recovery from last night. And while the Sox may have changed their legacy from longtime losers to the improbable idiots – one thing remains the same: They never make it easy.
Last night was another perfect example. Things started off bad. Things got worse. Then they got outrageous. I was checking the score from the train as I commuted home and I was pissed. We were down 2 to nothing in the first. Things did not bode well. I thought we were a lost cause. I had almost written the boys off. That is, almost …
I continued refreshing my phone for updates. And each time, the outcome looked even bleaker. At 5 to 0 I stopped checking. I put the phone down and stared out the window angry that my team never bothered to show up and defend their title. I felt used and cheated. I thought we didn’t have it in us. We had too many injuries. Beckett needs more time to throw. Time we don’t have. Wake is washed up. Varitek can’t hit. Papi isn’t Papi anymore.
But … two drinks later and we were back in it. I couldn’t believe my phone!
And to be honest, I was annoyed. It was the same feeling I got back in 2004. When we won the first game of the series I was more angry at the Sox than happy. I won’t lie. I felt like I had been stood up for a date and I was angry at myself for knowing that I would of course forgive the bastard when he finally got around to calling. And when I saw that the game was tied up last night I knew it would be more of the same.
Naturally, the Sox would win, thereby forcing me to watch again Saturday. And of course they will likely go into extra innings. The Rays will fold. A Game 7 will be forced. Back to Boston we will go. Along with it my nerves and weekend plans. I told this all to the cabbie who of course, thought I was insane.
At Em’s house we watched as J.D. Drew confirmed why we pay him the big bucks. And while I still wish Tek could hit, I am happy the boys finally decided to show up. Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to my team: the defending World Champs – the Boston Red Sox. They have finally arrived.
Perhaps another historic comeback is too much to ask of them. Perhaps our luck has run out. How many miraculous comebacks can one team have in them? But then again, this is the Red Sox. And a perhaps is always possible.