My first broken heart
Today, I am finally, truly a member of that great and sorrowful entity called Red Sox Nation. Sure, even before today I had rooted with all my heart for the Boston Red Sox. I had hung on every pitch, lived and died a little with every win and loss. But never, before last night, had the Red Sox made me cry.
Now they have, and not in the same way the New England Patriots made me cry two years ago. But there is some comfort to be had, thinking back on those two moments of unmanliness, those two times when the weight of all that had happened to lead up to that point caused me to break down and shed tears.
Earlier this week, Alex Belth of Bronx Banter wrote a post asking if we are too invested in our sports teams. It was an excellent post and there was some great discussion and I said that, unlike some of the other people who posted there, I had not yet reached the point where the stresses of losing outwighed the joys of winning. Last night confirmed that for me.
As I walked out of the news room on the fourth floor of the building I work in, the tears came. It was not open sobbing, but there were tears to be sure. By the time the elevator had taken me to the ground floor, the tears were gone. I was still devastated and upset, but there would be no more waterworks. In contrast, when the Patriots won the Super Bowl two years ago, I blubbered joyously for about an hour.
Where does one start when looking back on yesterday's game, which may go down in history as the best non-World Series game ever played? You start, of course, at the beginning.
And at the beginning of yesterday's game, many Red Sox fans were confident, for various reasons. Some Red Sox fans are just the confident type, some had faith in Pedro Martinez, some were sure Roger Clemens would choke and some just felt it was finally our turn to win.
And then there were those who thought, after the Cubs had a three-run lead needing just five outs to reach the World Series and couldn't close the deal, that we were safe. After all, there's no way it can happen to both sets of beleaguered fans in the same season, is there?
Sure there is. With Mia Hamm in attendance at Yankee Stadium, the Curse of the Bambino played a game of "Anything you can do I can do better" with the Curse of the Billy Goat.
Now, I don't really believe in curses. The Red Sox and Cubs both lost for the same three reasons: (1) they were both playing against very good baseball teams, (2) they both made some mistakes that their opponents were able to capitalize on and (3) they both have managers who are not good in-game tacticians.
Still, it's a lot more fun to talk about curses. There's something magical and mysterious about the idea of cursed baseball teams. The same thing that makes us want to believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy when we're younger makes us want to believe that something like a curse could exist. And even if you don't believe in curses, you're probably superstitious. You'll wear the same shirt or sit in the same spot if your team is winning and change clothes or seats if they're losing.
So, yesterday's game began, as all games begin, with a single pitch -- a strike from Clemens to Johnny Damon. It felt like much more than just one pitch, however. It was the first brick removed from a dam that was holding back a flood of emotions. It was the first step on a path that would lead to a defining moment for a generation or three of baseball fans. It would either be the first taste of heartbreak for younger Red Sox fans like myself, or it would be the most glorious triumph over the enemy that older fans had ever witnessed. It was the first pitch in a game that could mean the end of the losing and the rebirth of the idea of being a Red Sox fan in a new century.
The game began, as all good heartbreaks do, with hope. After Clemens and Martinez matched scoreless first innings, the Red Sox took the lead in the top of the second. Kevin Millar hit a one-out single to set up Clemens' arch-nemesis, Trot Nixon. Nixon rose to the occassion with a two-run homer to deep right field. The Red Sox then got a gift run because Joe Torre doesn't understand small sample sizes.
As most of you know, New York's third baseman in yesterday's game was Enrique Wilson because he went 7-for-8 against Martinez in the regular season. Of course, Wilson was 3-for-12 against Martinez prior to this season and he went 0-for-3 against Martinez in game three of the ALCS. At any rate, Torre believed Wilson has some sort of special ability to hit against Martinez, so Wilson was in the game when, after Jason Varitek doubled, Damon hit a grounder to third that Wilson threw away, allowing Varitek to score Boston's third run of the inning. New York's normal third baseman, Aaron Boone, probably would have made the play easily, but he had a larger purpose last night.
Martinez pitched two more scoreless innings and Clemens had an easy third when the game reached a crucial juncture, with Clemens finding more trouble in the top of the fourth inning. His first pitch to Millar in that frame sailed into the left-field stands to give the Red Sox a 4-0 lead, and then he walked Nixon. Bill Mueller followed with a single to put runners on the corners with nobody out and that was the end of Clemens' night and maybe, as far as anybody knew then, his career.
Mike Mussina, New York's favorite goat for much of the series, came on in relief and did a spectacular job. He struck out Varitek and got Damon to ground into a double play to end the inning without any more runs scoring. I said at the time that Mussina's work there could end up being critical to the outcome of the game. Unfortunately, I was right.
Still, at that point, I wasn't worried too much, since Martinez was cruising along with his fourth scoreless inning and he had thrown just 55 pitches to get through those four innings. Mussina put himself in a tough spot in the fifth with back-to-back one out singles from Nomar Garciaparra and Manny Ramirez. He was able to get the next two batters, however, to keep the Yankees within four runs.
In the bottom of the inning, Martinez hit his first bump in the road, surrendering a solo home run to Jason Giambi on the first pitch of the inning. Not a problem at all, though, as Martinez recovered to retire the next eight batters in a row.
Meanwhile, Mussina pitched a scoreless sixth and Felix Heredia and Jeff Nelson combined to pitch a scoreless seventh. So, the Red Sox still led 4-1 heading to the bottom of the seventh and Martinez retired the first two hitters, who were No. 7 and No. 8 in his streak of consecutive outs. Then, Martinez ran into trouble.
Giambi tagged him for another home run and Wilson reached on an "infield single." What really happened is that Wilson hit a tailing grounder to the right side that Millar fielded while running into foul territory. Rather than flip the ball to Martinez, who was in perfect position to step on first for the final out of the inning, Millar decided to dive for the bag with his glove. He ended up falling on his face a couple feet from first and the inning continued.
Karim Garcia knocked the next pitch into right field for a single, but Martinez saved Millar from being a goat by striking out Alfonso Soriano to end the inning.
Nelson came back out to start the top of the eighth inning for the Yankees, and I wondered why Torre wasn't turning to Mariano Rivera. If the Yankees gave up any more runs, I thought, it would be tough for them to come back and if they didn't come back, Rivera would have all offseason to rest. You might as well make sure you use your best pitcher for two innings in the biggest game of the season, right?
Well, Torre stuck with Nelson and Nelson got Ramirez for the first out of the inning. Then, Torre summoned David Wells to face David Ortiz. I turned to my co-workers and told them that Ortiz could take Wells deep because Wells doesn't have much of a split (he allowed a .778 OPS to lefty hitters and a .737 OPS to righties this year) and that's exactly what Ortiz did.
Wells retired the next two batters, but the Yankees were now facing a deficit of three runs instead of two runs. And then everything fell apart for Boston.
One of my co-workers asked me how much longer Martinez would be in the game. I said that he'd be in there until he gave up a baserunner and then he'd be out, or at least I hoped that would be the case. Martinez retired Nick Johnson to put the Red Sox five outs away from the World Series with a three-run lead (sound familiar?) before Derek Jeter doubled just past Nixon's outstretched glove.
At that point, I would have removed Martinez, but Grady Little wanted to stick with his ace as long as possible. Bernie Williams singled to center field to knock in Jeter and bring up Hideki Matsui as the tying run with the left-handed specialist Alan Embree warm in the bullpen. At that point, Little ran out to the mound.
I shouted at the TV, "make the move now, don't talk to him," but Little waited to make the move and went to talk to Martinez. He then patted Martinez on the butt and returned to the dugout without removing his obviously tired star hurler.
Matsui hit an 0-2 pitch down the right-field line for a ground-rule double that put the tying runs in scoring position. Little remained in the dugout, staring straight ahead, as Martinez prepared to face Jorge Posada. When Martinez's first pitch to Posada was inside, I turned my back to the TV, heaved my arm in the opposite direction and got a big laugh from the sports department:
"Toss him, ump! He's throwing at the hitters again! Throw him out of the game!"
It didn't work. Martinez remained in the game and Posada dumped his 2-2 pitch into No-Man's Land out in shallow center field to tie the game. Somehow, Posada even ended up on second.
I then asked, and still want to know the answer to, the following question, "How can the happiness of an entire region be entrusted to a complete idiot?"
There was no second-guessing of Little's move. It was obvious to every single person watching the game except for, it appears, Little that Martinez was out of gas. Even my girlfriend, who was watching the game despite the fact that she doesn't really like baseball in general or the Red Sox in particular, told me she was screaming at the TV for Little to take Martinez out.
Finally, with the damage already done, Little turned the game over to Embree, who retired Giambi on a fly ball to center field. Then, Little summoned Mike Timlin to face Wilson. Torre pinch-hit for Wilson with Ruben Sierra. Little had Timlin intentionally walk Sierra and Torre pinch-ran for Sierra with Boone, who would need to come in to play third base in the ninth anyway.
I don't really remember at that point whether or not I thought the Red Sox would allow the Yankees to take the lead right there. I was so disappointed that Little had left Martinez in to blow the lead that I didn't even know what to think or feel. That the Red Sox did not give the Yankees the lead there (after Garcia walked, Soriano hit a grounder off the mound that bounced to Todd Walker, who flipped to Garciaparra to end the inning) cleared my mind a little. The Red Sox bullpen had been excellent in the post-season and I thought they still had as good a shot at winning as the Yankees did.
Of course, Torre's move to not use Rivera in the eighth paid off because Rivera was able to hold the Red Sox scoreless in the ninth, 10th and 11th innings. He allowed a runner to reach scoring position twice, but both times he slammed the door without a hint of trouble.
Meanwhile, the Red Sox bullpen held the Yankees scoreless for two innings and, as the game went into the bottom of the 11th inning, I started feeling good again. Rivera was done for the night and the top of Boston's lineup was due up in the top of the 12th inning. If Tim Wakefield could just hold the Yankees scoreless for one more inning, the Red Sox would have a chance to take the lead and then turn things over to closer Scott Williamson.
Before I even really realized the inning was starting, Wakefield had delivered his first pitch to Boone and Boone had smacked it high and deep to left field. It stayed fair by plenty, it went into the stands by plenty and the Yankees won again.
Despite the fact that the Red Sox lost when they probably should have won, it was a great game. It was a game that may very well go down in history as the best non-World Series baseball game ever. I mean, come on, an extra-inning, walk-off home run by a player who wasn't even in the game when it started four hours earlier in the 26th meeting of the season between the most storied rivals in sports for a spot in the World Series? Who would ever believe it if it didn't really happen?
And, despite the fact that the story remained much the same, this was a great season to be a Red Sox fan. This season was a wildly exciting rollercoaster ride from the first game to the last. So what if last night it felt like the ride operator pulled the stop lever before we had reached the thrilling finale to the ride, leaving us momentarily disoriented as we stumbled off the ride and tried to refrain from being ill. When you choose to get on the big, exciting rides, you sometimes get sick. If you know what's good for you, though, you always come back.
And I'll be back next year, rooting just as hard for the Red Sox as ever. And the Red Sox will be back too. I guarantee that there will not be another prolonged stretch where the Red Sox don't make the playoffs or don't win in the playoffs.
How am I so sure? Hell, you might say, the fans in 1946 were probably sure that Ted Williams would get back to the World Series at least once and the fans in 1986 were probably sure that Clemens would lead Boston back to the World Series at least once. How can I be so sure, especially when the Red Sox didn't even reach the World Series this time?
Well, my faith is not in any of the players. Pedro Martinez? Nomar Gariciaparra? Manny Ramirez? You can take them all. Leave Theo Epstein in Boston, and I'll feel good about our chances. The boy wonder brought us to the brink of the World Series in his first season at the helm. Who knows what he can do from here on out? I know I'm excited to find out.
For you non-Red Sox fans, enjoy the World Series. I'll be following it a bit, but I won't be watching every pitch like I have been. After all, now that the Red Sox have been eliminated, it's time for me to get reacquainted with my true love, if she's still talking to me.
Other stuff
Here's my fantasy football column for this week:
Fantasy football: Teams needing running backs find gold
Also, I wanted to let everybody know that I plan on posting every day even during the offseason. I don't know if I'll actually be able to, but that's my plan at the moment. And after the World Series is over, I'll have all sorts of posts looking back on the season.