A Red Sox Team To Remember
November 1, 2004
GROUP DISCUSSION

Michael Walls: It really couldn't have happened any other way. A four-game sweep of the St. Louis Cardinals would be the only ending a reasonable screenwriter would pen. Because to create any kind of additional drama to the Red Sox' ultimate victory would be cruel and usual punishment for a Nation that was on the brink of insanity after witnessing the historic comeback in the ALCS.

You can't really fault the Cardinals or ask why they played so horribly. They were innocent bystanders in a fantastic train wreck of a post season. The Red Sox were on a mission – maybe even a mission from God – and nothing was going to stop them. Not the injuries, not the weather, not the fans, not the curse, and certainly not the Cardinals.

For the Red Sox pitchers, their focus and their confidence was so high, that the Cardinal hitters were nothing more than hovering shadows in their intense games of "catch" with catcher Jason Varitek.

The Red Sox hitters were so locked-in, that even on a universally understood "take-a-pitch" moment, Trot Nixon swung on a 3-0 pitch with the bases loaded and cracked a double to score two runs. Who swings on a 3-0 bases loaded pitch?

A team of destiny – that's who!

I'm a baseball fan and will remember this season for the rest of my life. But as a Red Sox fan living outside of the nucleus of Red Sox Nation (and within the enemy territory of New York), I can't imagine what life-long, emotionally-attached Red Sox fans are going through. It's probably surreal, bordering on "impossible to digest". After all, the "Red Sox winning the World Series" is synonymous with "hell freezing over" or "when pigs fly" or "when the Eagles get back together" (okay, so that actually happened too). But the point is – even up to the last out, no Red Sox fan in the world fully believed. They can claim it all they want in hindsight, but there wasn't one fan in the world that wasn't sitting (or standing in the middle of their living room) white-knuckled, with that lingering doubt and that image of Buckner doing a croquet wicket impersonation in '86, as Renteria slapped that ball back towards Foulke. Even Foulke showed signs of careful recollection, handling the final ball as if it were a delicate egg, underhanding it to Mientkiewicz at first, as if he were a 5-year old child, for the final out.

Unreal.

The City of Boston will be on a perpetual high all the way through spring training of next year (and no New England Patriots accomplishments will be able to distract from it). But the rest of the world will only enjoy the historic occasion for a few weeks. Because like at the end of The Truman Show, were an entire town is fixated on the soap opera-like drama of Jim Carey's character, when it finally ends and everyone is happy – one fixated viewer says to the other, "Wow..." Then after a few beats says, "okay, see what else is on."

Chris Orcutt: It’s hard to put into words exactly what it means but this is my take on it. A lot of people growing up in New England say that they get used to the disappointment but I don’t think that’s true – you NEVER get used to it. When the Sox do well towards the end of the season, fans outwardly refuse to admit that there’s any hope. But secretly – and they won’t even admit this to other Sox fans – they think this could be the year. As the team gets closer and closer, the outward doubt becomes more vocal and the internal hope becomes stronger. When the team finally loses we all say, Of course, didn’t I tell you? But internally we’re totally crushed.

I was looking through some online news stories and came across these things, which might give an idea of what it means to some people:

"I cannot believe this," said Roland Segalini, 57, of Lexington. "This can't be real."

"It's unbelievable, it's that emotional," he added. "This is the kind of thing that brings whole families together. Now we can celebrate it."

As the Red Sox sprayed each other with champagne early today, Green remembered her father, who died of cancer in 1999, uttering his last word to salute a stirring Red Sox victory that summer. ''Incredible," he said.

Workers at Mount Auburn Cemetery said yesterday they began to see tiny Red Sox flags blossom near some headstones at the historic graveyard in Cambridge.

You hear many people saying that they wish their father or grandfather had lived to see this. Can you think of any other team that so many people are so attached to that their performance becomes part of your life’s goals?

What it all comes down to is that you never stop hoping. It’s not disappointment or getting used to losing that became part of New England’s culture – it was the hope. And to see that hope finally rewarded is an affirmation that yes, it was worth it, it all wasn’t in vain, we were right, they can do it. And maybe it’s even a small affirmation that life is good and things do work out.

David Brown: After watching the final 10 days of the baseball playoffs, it’s obvious that God wanted the Boston Red Sox to win the World Series.

Every player in their lineup got big hits when they needed them. David Ortiz became a superstar. Mark Bellhorn avenged the Fenway boos he heard during the early games of the ALCS. Keith Foulke looked like Mariano Rivera. Mike Timlin looked like Rivera circa 1996 when he was a setup man. Pedro Martinez looked like the old Pedro. Derek Lowe looked like the 21 game winner from two years ago, not the shell-shocked head case who fell apart every time he left Fenway Park this season. And Curt Schilling pitched brilliantly in two games when he shouldn’t have been pitching at all.

Terry Francona, who seemed lost for so much of the season, outmanaged Joe Torre and Tony LaRussa. The umps got every call right when they had every opportunity to blow a number of them. Every hard hit ball by the Cardinals was hit right at a Boston fielder. The Red Sox got every bounce. They committed eight errors (8!) in the first two games of the World Series, and won them both.

All the horrible things that usually happen to the Sox worked in their favor this time.

The Red Sox finally exorcised the Curse of the Babe and co-opted the spirit of the Yankees. They played with confidence over the final 8 games, and it never looked like they would lose a game the minute they beat the Yanks in Game 5.

But most importantly, the Sox learned how to win. They fought all year, even after a miserable stretch of .500 baseball that lasted from May until August. They came back against Rivera in late July, the game where Varitek and A-Rod wrestled each other to the ground. They came back from a 10-game deficit to make the Yankees sweat their way to yet another division crown. And then they came back from 3-0…

But the season turned on a play by Derek Jeter. When Jeter dove into the stands late into the night on July 1, the Red Sox saw what it means to want to win, what it means to be a champion, and what it means to KNOW you’re going to win. And as Jeter emerged from the stands bruised and bloodied, the Sox players saw their franchise player sulking on the dugout bench, alone while his teammates crowded the railing, caught up in the game.

The sulking Nomar, sitting out with a nagging injury, was caught on camera. That was the day Red Sox fans said, No More. It was as if The Nation gave Theo Epstein permission to trade him. Theo knew it was time, and the team knew they couldn’t have anyone in that clubhouse who didn’t believe. A month later the Sox traded Nomar, and the team turned their season around.

Leave it to a Yankee fan to somehow credit Derek Jeter for a Red Sox championship. I admit, I’m bummed to see them win. I loved the curse and all the Boston angst it dredged up every year. But at the same time, I am genuinely glad for all those people who have literally waited their entire lives for a championship. And so many of them had fathers and brothers and uncles who never lived to see it. I’m also glad because it’s good for baseball, and ultimately that’s more important than anything at a time when the national pastime has to fight tooth and nail for every young fan.

But here’s my final thought on a Sox championship. When I lived in Chapel Hill, N.C., I got heavily into UNC basketball. The Carolina-Duke rivalry is one of the most intense in sports. Both teams have enjoyed tremendous success over the years, but the recent success of Duke eats away at Carolina fans like a cancer.

I had a friend who worked at UNC and was a former employee in the school’s basketball office during Dean Smith’s tenure. We were talking about the UNC-Duke rivalry one day when she said something that struck me. She said that most Carolina fans hate Duke more than they love Carolina. These fans didn’t mind if the Heels didn’t win a championship, as long as Duke didn’t win.

I never liked that idea, although I can identify with it. I’ve never had to deal with it as a Yankee fan, until now. Well, I don’t ever want to be like that. As Joe Torre said after the ALCS, their goal was not to keep the Sox from winning; it was to win it themselves.

The Yankees didn’t win, and the fact that they were so close hurts. But the Sox truly earned it, and their fans certainly deserve it. I’ll just take a big ol’ bite of humble pie and suck it up until next year.