signs and portents
The challenger from the North East had its work cut out. In this setting, against this opponent, the American Major League Baseball Boston Red Sox were winless for ... oh... the past 830 years. Yeah, they believed in themselves ? thought they were as good as anybody ? but in the pit of their stomach the coming confrontation gave them legitimate reason for serious concern. Their foe? One of the most formidable teams in the history of the game, a veritable force of Nature ? the New York Yankees.
With a history as long as a giraffe's neck, the NY Yankees represented the finest the League had to offer. There was a swagger, no... a confidence that permeated the entire organization ? a take-no-prisoners attitude that commenced with a ruthless owner in his luxury suite and flowed right down through the players all the way to the equipment managers and ground crew. They were winners through and through with a confidence only winners can know and a killer's instinct, besides.
The battle, some say the rout, was joined. To the surprise of few, the Goliath of pro baseball jumped on the challenger in the first three games, winning the third in a humiliating blow-out in front of the challenger's own fans right there in Boston. One game away from yet another elimination at Yankee hands in yet another best of seven series, this time something within the challenger said "no." They dug deep and gave the home fans something to cheer about. They won. Fighting to avoid a legacy of perpetual losers and choosing not to go quietly in the night, the Bo Sox looked again deep into their heart and soul. And won again.
A fire had been lit ? a fire younger brothers know when they come of age and beat their Big Brother for the first time. "I can win!" they seemed to think collectively. "I CAN beat him!" And they did... for a third time... but this time in the hallowed and legendary Yankee Stadium in amongst an ornery Yankee crowd. Among the legendary Yankees and their beloved City, unease set in. A nagging dread seemed to permeate the team that a chink had been found in their shiny armor ? a chink that could not be fixed in time.
For game six, among the resurgent Red Sox squad there rose a wounded but valiant warrior with the heart and will of a champion. At any other time, this pitcher would've been in the hospital getting needed surgery on a badly injured ankle. But his team were to win it all, they needed the very best they had at the position, and he needed a chance ? THE chance ? to redeem himself for letting down his teammates for the loss in Game 1.
When done, commentators and analysts universally haled the performance as "epic," "legendary," "historical," "once in a generation." "It was a masterpiece." And it was. "One batter at a time, one pitch at a time," he said after it was over. "I made some mistakes, but every time I did, my teammates were there to cover for me."
And just like that, seemingly overnight, the series was knotted up three games apiece. The earth's axis had tipped. The tables had turned. For the deciding game seven in front of the Yankee Faithful, the great "mo" ? momentum ? had decisively swung to the challenger's side. Incredibly... unbelievably... before the contest was half over, David had Goliath under his heel -- down 8 to 1. Long before it was over, the eerie silence that filled the Stadium forecast the champion's eventual epitaph.
Like a cold, bitter wind from the North East, a hopeful but doubting challenger had done the unthinkable. They had risen from the ashes to not only beat their age-old nemesis, but they became the first team in the history of professional baseball to win a best-of-seven series after being down three games to none.
Although I didn't think they could do it, I, for one, was pulling for them. The part of me that roots for the underdog passionately rooted for them. I hoped they'd do it but secretly knew they couldn't. I hoped they would saw in the mirror players every bit as good as those they saw in the celebrated Yankees but I figured: "no way." I wanted them to rewrite history in an epic battle as ancient as the Bible but doubted they were up to the challenge. To say I'm pleasantly surprised they did would be an extreme understatement.
An underdog challenger from the North East, virtually down and out, rallied to post an historic come-from-behind victory over an unbeatable foe in the final day of the contest. Shadows of things to come? We'll see. The most important American presidential election of the last 100 years is twelve days away.
Very nicely written.
And I lost the game today when they were 8-7 Red Sox. I was driving home from Oregon in my truck. Who won today's game?
Tell me it was the Red Sox!! Confusedjw has got me rooting for them now. It's fun to have a team.
This whole thing just brings a tear to my eye. Of course they won and it was so sweet that I will never forget the moment.
Teejay - do the 7th game and the first two of the World Series next, or at least the 7th game.