The World on a String

Originally written 10-28-04.

This was made after the Sox won the series and I tried to put it into words. It's a mess, but I think it covers the emotional state that I was in after.

Sure the Cubs lost, and it was beyond painful for me, to watch my team blow a big lead in the standings by losing almost all of their last 13 games. Ugh. It still hurts to talk about it. But, sometimes its not just about the team you like, its about watching the game go down.

It also doesn't hurt that this postseason has been fantastic. Sure, it's not as good as last year, (though nothing may ever be) and it lacks the Cubs, this is something special.

It also doesn't hurt that I am also a red Sox fan as well. I am not the typical Sox fan, rabid, bitter and willing to scream about everything wrong with the Sox. I like them because I am drawn to underdogs, and simply because I like the fans when they are not asses, because deep down, unlike most any other fans in the world, they may have their entire life made by having the Sox win the World Series. This is hard to explain, but let me attempt.

Yankee, Nebraska and or Miami College Football, Cowboys/ 49ers, and Laker fans tend to be bastards in spirit. They believe that they should win every year. They are like the woman in a relationship who wants their boyfriend to tell them they love them. Usually the man tells them, and while they are happy when what they expect happens, they don't really understand what it is like to have the guy say he loves them with real meaning. Essentially, rooting for one of these teams is like rooting for a formulaic end to a great movie. These people usually don't get Casablanca, they don't understand why Rick doesn't go after Ilsa. They are needlessly cocky, they expect to win, and come up with awful logic about their team being "winners."

There are fans of teams like the Detroit Pistons, Tampa Bay Lightning, and Chicago Bulls. They have won in the past, but they don't expect it every year. But they appreciate what it is when a loved one does something so nice for them it melts their heart, and for the next few years of their life, it gives them something to smile about.

And then, there are the cubs and Red Sox fans.

With the Sox, the fans are like the woman in an abusive relationship. They endure heartbreaks beyond belief (see 1979, 1986, 1999, 2003). They keep getting beat down, but they can't leave. They need that pain in their life.

With the Cubs, it's like loving an idiot, a worthless schmo who always fails, who never does the right thing twice in a row, and always seems to mess up at the worst point. Instead of needing the pain like Sox fans, they have unfortunate rain upon them. (See 1984, 1998, 2003). They just know, that when it happens, it will be the best thing ever to happen to them after all the curses.

But with the last two, a win would mean everything. It would be the equivalent of a someone sacrificing themselves for your life. It's like the ultimate "I love you" that can never be reproduced.

I like these people because they are sensible but reliant on something other than God or drugs. They simply tie their hopes onto a group of men who can obstensively and in a transfixed sense, do everything they ever wanted to do. Winning the final battle in a war is much more satisfying than winning the all the little battles. It makes everything seem worthwhile, no matter what the loss before.

And in case you were wondering, even though I have two teams in the MLB, I say this. I have an AL and an NL team. I root for both equally. Which is hard to believe. I would actually admit that in a regular, interleague play game, I would root for the cubs. But if, if, if, the Sox and Cubs were to meet in a postseason, and neither had won a World Series since 1918 or 1908, I would pray for the following.

A 7 game epic, with every game going to extra innings. Game 7 would be tied in the 12th inning, and the managers would meet. They would then confer with the umpires. They would then call the series a tie, and all of the fans of both teams would meet out on the field for the greatest meeting of tortured fan bases. I don' think either team or fanbase would want to be at the hands of the others suffering.

Anyway, I am not even a third of the way of what I want to talk about.

But flash back to last Wednesday.

I was heading home from work after being told that the Sox could not win, they were not winners, and the Yankees were. (If any of you on this list have not been following the Baseball postseason, please go on the net and read the recaps of the entire postseason)

And then it happened. The Sox completed a comeback from 3 games down in a 7 game series. Something that has happened, this instance included a total of 3 times in the history of sports. They won. And they didn't just win, they crushed the opposition in the final game.

And that was it, when the game ended, the happiest moment, and arguably the best feeling moment of my life.

The Sox had comeback from the most improbable of odds and beat their ultimate rival in a triumphant finish. For those who can't understand the sports world, this is like having a loved one come back from near death on the operating table and then go on to be twice a better person that they ever were. It was not only that they fought back to life and went on to live, it was that they came back and then lived as good as life as possible. It is like having the love of your life return when you never thought it would happen.

I mean, all I could think about after game three was that the Sox had come so far, only to lose again in a way that would render everything they did all year as meaningless. Everything was for naught. And then they won Game 4, and it seemed a wonderful dream to hope for a comeback. And then they won Game 5, and you feared to believe, for hope of a terrible letdown. And then they won game 6.

And for the first time in the series, I knew, that it was going to happen, they were going to win, and complete the most impossible of tasks. But I still didn't want to believe or hope. I couldn't commit. I didn't even wear my favorite Sox hat for fear of letdown and letting myself feel responsible for the loss.

And when they won, euphoria. I have watched everyone of my teams never win the big game since 1987 when the Hoosiers won the National Championship. But this was better. Why, simply because if I were to concoct the perfect scenario for history and happiness, this would be the exact script.

Aside from the fact that when the final out came, I could not help myself from running around in the street by my apartment doing the airplane due to sheer joy, and then I just simply pulled my arms around my head and cried from joy. This was everything I ever wanted. And all I could do was laugh out of disbelief, and of course when you laugh and its as perfect a moment you can imagine, all you can do is just cry, because you are so overrun with glee, it's hard not to go a big rubbery one, because I had just seen the best hope of my life happen.

In my life, as I have written before, the best thing I have ever seen in terms of sheer drama and spectacle was the 2001 world series. I was not really inclined to either team, but being a Sox fan, I wanted the Yankees to lose. But aside from that, all I really wanted was to find something else to watch than the constant coverage of the post 9/11 news. From the Antrhax scares to the building war, I just wanted something else.

What happened was beyond amazing. 3 games coming down to the final at bats. 7 games out of 7 games possible. And best of all, a home crowd which was just dying for a release. And it was at a time, when (and I hate to seem hyperbolic and oversentimentalist here) when we as Americans needed something. And we got it, a series that was for the ages.

There is the quote from Field of Dreams which is I can duly paraphrase as such: In times of US history, through war, death, poverty and success, there has been one thing that has always been the same, always been a constant. Baseball is the constant of American life.

I bring this up because as much as I love baseball, I don't think I understood this as much as when I first saw the movie in 89 as I did in 2001. Baseball is the one game where you are constantly given second chances. Unlike basketball, football, soccer and almost every other team sport, you can not score when the other team is up. There are no steals, no interceptions or fumbles, and most importantly of all, and certainly the most distinguishing, is that there is no timetable. If one team scores 10 times in the first inning, the other team will have no less than 27 chances to come back. It is the only sport where the failure is acceptable to a level underneath 50 percent.

Perhaps more importantly is the breath of the season. In pro football, there are 16 games. In hockey and Basketball, 82. Baseball has 162. This fact alone means leagues, for the simple fact that when one follows a team, they do it with much greater expanse to draw upon . Watching a team from any sport year to year is a truly great experience. You grow to love a team as a whole. You learn the mannerisms of a club, from how individual players shoot a ball, throw a pass or hold the bat. But with baseball, over a number of games so much more in magnitude they grow on you like friends. You see them nearly every day, you begin to believe like you know them when they come to the plate, and you become so deeply entwined with the team itself it becomes a relationship in itself. It's not that you want to watch this team win because they are your franchise, it's because you feel like you know them.

It is the difference between a relationship that last months vs. years. You will always cherish the shorter loves, but you will cherish and remember the long ones till your deathbed.

Which is why so many Sox and Cubs fans were and now are dying for the big win. It is the culmination of a relationship, it is the greatest finale possible. Its no longer about the team itself winning, it's about watching the people of a franchise, people that you have followed with absolute feverance for 6 months a year, for years on end, to finally let you rest in peace. For all of those franchises like the Lakers, Yankees, Nebraska and Red Wings, they get these things so often, it's almost commonplace. Which is why so many fans are dubbed as bandwagon. After the first win, most of those who love the team can finally rest. They have seen the end of the tunnel. All they want is a simple reminder of what it is to get back to that hallowed moment.

And now that the Sox have won, I realize that I am devoted to the cubs far more than I am to the Sox. I have followed the Cubs as long as I can remember. They were the first team I ever really followed. But when they finally do win, I don't think it will make me happier than when the Sox beat the Yankees.

Even though the Sox won tonight, and as amazing as it was and how happy I was, it doesn't even come close to how I felt when the Sox beat the Yankees.

For in that moment after the final at bat, I watched something I had always prayed for:

The impossible to happen.The ability to see it happen. And the place of mind to realize what had actually transpired.

To quote from The Shawshank Redemption: Hope is a good thing, maybe the best thing. And a good thing never dies.

This was the greatest proof possible.

We should never ever fail to hope that the amazing will happen to us.

David

(continued...)