Oh. My. Goodness!
The last time the Red Sox behaved this way was all the way back in 2004. In that year, they were just never out of a game. In fact, it was almost fun to see that they were down by four or more runs! It was at that point that it seemed as if they always trotted out the most improbable heroes, and… won the game.
Heck, it was almost a thrill to see that they were down by ten runs, because — Red Sox fans, back me up on this — it still seemed as if there was a 50-50 chance they’d win. And watching that happen was more fun than a Red Sox fan can describe in words.
For those of you who remember that year, 2004, 14 long years ago, there was a palpable sense in New England that it was inevitable that the Sawx (Boston/Rhode Island accent) would do really well that year, precisely because they always just found a way to win, and because they never seemed to be out of any game, no matter what the score.
The only question was: How well would they do in 2004? Answer: All the way to the world championship.
This year has that same feeling.
In game four of this year’s World Series, the Bostonians were ahead in the series 2-1. This was a truly pivotal game, and it followed hard on the heels of a crushing-seeming loss to the dastardly Dodgers(1) in eighteen frickin’ innings in game three the night before.
The Sox were down 4-0 in late innings, and still found a way to score nine frickin’ runs — generally with two outs — and still made it possible for the great Craig Kimbrel to have an off-day and save the game.
Going into the last of the ninth inning against the LA Dodgers, the score was 9-4 in favor of the good guys, the guys in the white hats, the Beantowners, the Boston Red Sox. Kimbrel came in — in what was not a save situation — and proceeded to walk the first guy on four pitches.
That kind of at-bat is a signal that Kimbrel is off. When Kimblel is normal, he’s always very near the plate, and always with ugly, unhittable heat, or a ludicrously lively breaking ball. A four-pitch walk to the first batter is a… bad sign.
The next guy proceeds to jack it out of the park to left-field for a two-run dinger.
Nine to six. Guess what: it’s now a save situation. I wonder if Kimbrel set it up that way.
Kimbrel “settles down.” A ground ball to Devers, who makes a ridiculously fine play to retire the runner, makes it two down. Then a can of corn to left-center, and the game is over. And… the Red Sox win!
As they’re supposed to, if the universe is working correctly, and if most things are as they should be, and if the world is in the correct alignment.
Mind you, all these things are temporary things. So a Red Sox victory, while always a good and great thing, is only a sign of passing wondrous fabulosity(2). We all have to work to establish the conditions wherein all people are happy, healthy, hale and hearty.
We must make a world in which all people, no exceptions, live a long, happy, healthy, prosperous life, filled with love, laughter, joy, family closeness, and greater fulfillment than anything in their wildest dreams.
And the Red Sox win.(3)
It’s the right thing to do.
(1) The Dodger are managed, all the same, by His Gloriosity,(4) His Fleetness, Saint Dave Roberts, the Swift and Wonderful.
It was his stolen base that allowed the Good Guys, the Guys in the White Hats, to defeat the Evil Empire (The Yankees) in the 2004 American League Championship Series, despite the fact that the Good Guys were down 3-0 in that best of seven series.
Without that stolen base, it’s entirely possible that the Boston-based baseball players on the side of all that is good and decent in our world might have gone down to defeat by the Bronx-domiciled forces of darkness.
There’s a large place in my heart entirely reserved for Dave Roberts.
(2) The noun form of the adjective “fabulous.” If you look it up, and the publication gainsays us… don’t believe them, the bums. They’re probably Dodgers fans. Or worse: Yankees fans.
(3) And the Yankees lose.
(4) The noun form of the adjective “glorious.”