Thursday, October 21, 2004
World View destroyed…Euphoric…Unfucking believable…Beer
That was my away message following the Red Sox victory over the Yankees in Game 7, sending us to the World Series. I was in such a hyped up state I was unable to form complete thoughts, so I just typed out the fragments that came to my mind…this after spending 10 minutes on the phone with Matt Dorfman screaming about how anything in life was possible now, while Australian and Asian students looked out the window wondering what the hell the crazy kid was yelling about at 2 in the afternoon. 24 hours later, I analyze my thoughts
World View Destroyed: What do I mean by this? In the world of sports, the Yankees have been the winners, and the Red Sox have been the losers. In dealing with New Yorkers, some of whom I like, and most of whom I find annoying, it has been a constant battle for me, and every Red Sox fan, to remain optimistic, to talk up our team, to bash the Yanks, because history was against us. Sometimes we lost to the Yankees because their team was better (1999.) Sometimes we lost to the Yankees because the teams were damn close, and things just didn’t go our way, which happens in baseball. (1978, 2003.) But we did always lose. That was true
And what did Yankees fans want from us? They wanted us to bow down to the great NY. To admit that there was a fundamental greatness about the Yankees, that somehow derived from them being placed in New York City. That they were winners, and we were losers. Not only losers, but naïve losers at that who should just accept fate, not care about our team, not get wrapped up in the team.
Every Red Sox fan had to deal with this reality in their own way. Some attributed it to a curse. Some bought t-shirts with “Yankees Suck,” spread across them to advertise that they didn’t care, they refused to budge, they would back the loveable losers till the end of time.
Now we have reached the end of time. What does this really mean for Red Sox fans? We now have ammunition; and an H-bomb at that. An answer to “1918,” “Bucky Dent,” and “Babe Ruth.” And it’s fucking fantastic let me tell you. From now on, when an asshole New Yorker taunts me about my baseball team’s futility, I can reply “maybe so, but at least we never blew a 3-0 lead to you, like you did in 2004, when we won and your team pulled the biggest choke of all time, you team of chokers. Oh and your city sucks,” rather than mumbling “fuck off,” or trying to spin the positive “this year is different,” schtick. Because, ladies and gentlemen, this year finally is different.
Euphoric: I can’t explain how I felt afterwards. The emotion wasn’t the same as when the Pats won the Super Bowl the first time, that was more just sheer joy and exultation. This was more, “Did I just see what I thought I saw?” Followed by the realization that I had, that we had beaten those fuckers FINALLY. This was followed by giddy laughter, singing along to “Dirty Water,” pumping my fists and clapping as the people in the apartment across from me pointed and laughed. I don’t blame them. They can’t understand.
Unfucking believable: I have a bit of an imagination, and may have imagined how the Red Sox would win the World Series a time or two. Obviously it involved beating the Yankees. (It also involved beating the Cards in the World Series, after I moved to STL.) But rarely did I even imagine we would come back from a 3-0 deficit. If my imagination got going that strongly, my rational side would chime in “come on Patrick, that’s unrealistic.” Well we just did. Anything is possible, that’s how I feel.
Beer: A toast to the 2004 Red Sox: you were the better team and deserve to play for the World championship representing the American League. A toast also to the Yankees and Yankee fans. This is a tough loss I’m sure, but you’ve won your fair share of titles you can think about. Sure you choked, but if you try really hard, and maybe boost that payroll over 200 million, you may someday get back to the promised land. Sure this may be tough to swallow, but don’t worry. There is always next year.
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-haaaaaaa
World View Destroyed: What do I mean by this? In the world of sports, the Yankees have been the winners, and the Red Sox have been the losers. In dealing with New Yorkers, some of whom I like, and most of whom I find annoying, it has been a constant battle for me, and every Red Sox fan, to remain optimistic, to talk up our team, to bash the Yanks, because history was against us. Sometimes we lost to the Yankees because their team was better (1999.) Sometimes we lost to the Yankees because the teams were damn close, and things just didn’t go our way, which happens in baseball. (1978, 2003.) But we did always lose. That was true
And what did Yankees fans want from us? They wanted us to bow down to the great NY. To admit that there was a fundamental greatness about the Yankees, that somehow derived from them being placed in New York City. That they were winners, and we were losers. Not only losers, but naïve losers at that who should just accept fate, not care about our team, not get wrapped up in the team.
Every Red Sox fan had to deal with this reality in their own way. Some attributed it to a curse. Some bought t-shirts with “Yankees Suck,” spread across them to advertise that they didn’t care, they refused to budge, they would back the loveable losers till the end of time.
Now we have reached the end of time. What does this really mean for Red Sox fans? We now have ammunition; and an H-bomb at that. An answer to “1918,” “Bucky Dent,” and “Babe Ruth.” And it’s fucking fantastic let me tell you. From now on, when an asshole New Yorker taunts me about my baseball team’s futility, I can reply “maybe so, but at least we never blew a 3-0 lead to you, like you did in 2004, when we won and your team pulled the biggest choke of all time, you team of chokers. Oh and your city sucks,” rather than mumbling “fuck off,” or trying to spin the positive “this year is different,” schtick. Because, ladies and gentlemen, this year finally is different.
Euphoric: I can’t explain how I felt afterwards. The emotion wasn’t the same as when the Pats won the Super Bowl the first time, that was more just sheer joy and exultation. This was more, “Did I just see what I thought I saw?” Followed by the realization that I had, that we had beaten those fuckers FINALLY. This was followed by giddy laughter, singing along to “Dirty Water,” pumping my fists and clapping as the people in the apartment across from me pointed and laughed. I don’t blame them. They can’t understand.
Unfucking believable: I have a bit of an imagination, and may have imagined how the Red Sox would win the World Series a time or two. Obviously it involved beating the Yankees. (It also involved beating the Cards in the World Series, after I moved to STL.) But rarely did I even imagine we would come back from a 3-0 deficit. If my imagination got going that strongly, my rational side would chime in “come on Patrick, that’s unrealistic.” Well we just did. Anything is possible, that’s how I feel.
Beer: A toast to the 2004 Red Sox: you were the better team and deserve to play for the World championship representing the American League. A toast also to the Yankees and Yankee fans. This is a tough loss I’m sure, but you’ve won your fair share of titles you can think about. Sure you choked, but if you try really hard, and maybe boost that payroll over 200 million, you may someday get back to the promised land. Sure this may be tough to swallow, but don’t worry. There is always next year.
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-haaaaaaa
# posted by Marmaniac @ 10:39 PM 
