Oh man. Haven't written much lately because I've been neck-deep in the baseball playoffs. With the Red Sox facing down two elimination games in a row, I'm too distracted. So you will have to indulge me and my Red Sox-centricness at the moment. It's the only time of year when this happens, and it could end any day now. But not yet. They're not dead yet -- far from it. They won again last night, coming off the mat again for the second game in a row, and it was a friggin' PARTY. I watched the game at Professor Thom's, along with about 60 other Sox fans, complete strangers all at the start of the game. It was lose and go home for my team (again). They were down 3-1 in this series two games ago, and I'd given them up for dead. I'm not embarrassed to say it. 2004 World Series or no 2004 World Series, these are the Red Sox and I still have scars. But they're proving me wrong once again. I gave them up for dead in 2004 against the Yankees and they came back to win the whole thing. I hope lightning strikes twice.
All the same, the more pessimistic among us (me) were a little on edge when the game started last night, wondering which versions of Curt Schilling and Fausto Carmona were going to show up. You just never know. Then.... Boston loads the bases in the first with nobody out. Then.... they get two outs and I'm thinking, damnit, they're going to blow this silver platter opportunity and not score. It's not good when you let chances like this pass in elimination games. Then, THEN! the much maligned, sleepy-head J.D. Drew, the Sox fans' punching bag the entire year, hits a totally unexpected GRAND SLAM to the deepest part of the ballpark, off of one of the best pitchers in the league, on a 97 mile-an-hour fast ball.
The place. Went. Apeshit. Yells, screams, arms in the air, strangers high fiving, hugging, beer spilling everywhere. I'm Shipping Up to Boston by the Dropkick Murphys starts pounding on the loudspeakers. I was jumping up and down and yelling louder than I have since I was seven, when I got a Six Million Dollar Man doll for Christmas (along with rocket ship and mission control center accessories). Apoplectic, that was it. I'll tell you, it's an amazing feeling when you have so many people in such a small space completely losing it together over the same exact thing. It's a euphoric unity unlike anything else. If you've never experienced it, I suggest you try it sometime. The high is stratospheric and it lasts longer than most controlled substances. That's why I went to PT's to watch the game instead of watching it in my living room. I wanted to feel the game, not just watch it. And feel it I did. Boston blew the doors off the place and now we have a Game 7.
So of course I called dear friend P. in Boston after the game to celebrate. He, a Red Sox season ticket holder, soon informed me that he just happened to have an extra ticket to Game 7 at Fenway tonight. Hmmm, should I go? I wonder. Uh, yeah, I will be shipping up to Boston in a few hours. Not to find my wooden leg, but to see my beloved team hopefully win and get to the World Series. Anything can happen in a Game 7, but win or lose, it's been one hell of a ride. That's why I love baseball.
