I can’t help being from Boston. I can’t help being a Boston sports fan. It’s just the way I am. I was born this way, you know?
Game six starts in a touch more than six hours and damn it if I ain’t terrified. I was too young to know what was happening in 1975. I know I watched the Bucky Bleeping Dent game in ’78, but it wasn’t until a year later that I was fully engrossed in what would be a lifetime of baseball fandom.
I remember 1986, although I wasn’t watching when it fell apart in game six. I couldn’t quite get why everyone was just assuming that game seven was lost even before it started, even though deep down I felt the same way. I watched the start of the game. I got excited when the Sox took the lead against the Mets. Still, I wasn’t surprised when the Mets came back and won the game. I didn’t see the end. I was 15 and had to go to school the next day. I remember the pain though. I clearly do.
Back in 2004 there were questions being asked. Even after the Red Sox won their first World Series title in 86 years, there were still questions. Would it ever be the same? Now that the eons of suffering were over, would we ever really feel the same way about baseball? The answer is no. Think about it. If you are a Red Sox fan, is there anything about the 2007 World Series that sticks out in your mind? I remember those idiotic Tacoby commercials, but that’s about it. 2004? Even thought he World Series paled in comparison to the ALCS win against the Yankees, I still can clearly see Suppan rounding third. I can still clearly see Wakefield and Schilling and Lowe on the mound. (not Pedro Martinez though. I wonder why?) So would it ever be the same? No. Not really. Two championships in four years removed all of the pain and suffering we’d gone through over the previous 86 years.
Then we got to 2011 and all of that crap came flooding back. The September collapse was a harsh reminder of our not so distant past. When we lost on the last game of the season, and then listened to the end of the Yankees game as they blew a huge lead and we lost our post season spot, it was devastating. It shouldn’t have been. 2004 cured us, didn’t it? Not completely, I guess. There was the same 1,000 yard stare we’d felt in 2003, and 1999, and 1995, and 1990, and 1988, and 1986, and 1978, and 1975, and 1967, and so on, and so on. Last season’s last place finish was just salt in the wound. It just hammered home that Boston was once again a place where we felt the pain of defeat. I don’t want to say we feel it more than other places, but somehow it’s not hard to believe that the sting is at least different here. I know Chicago is dealing with a much longer string of futility, but as was the case during our 86 years, we can always argue that it was worse for us because we consistently came close where the Cubs pretty much always blew.
I’m getting off topic. I’m afraid of tonight’s game. The Cardinals are an awesome baseball team. So are the Red Sox, but we can’t just assume victory is ours. Overconfidence is a killer in a game like this, and if we need a game seven tomorrow then another epic collapse is right on the door step.
The absolutely positively without questions MUST win tonight’s game. I’m going to be chewing my nails and shivering with fear and hiding my head every time anything happens. Even if we jump out to an 86 run first inning lead, I am still going to be on the verge of panic right up until the moment it ends in our favor.
Despite 2004 and 2007, I am still far too accustomed to disappointment at the hands of the Red Sox to ever truly feel confident. Please don’t let us down again, Red Sox. Win tonight.
Go Red Sox!
Inside the Red Head's Head 