Ugh, where does the time go?

I haven't posted since July, since July! I'm sorry for disappointing my fans, truly I am. Kidding. I'm not sure anyone reads this but it has been a great outlet, well for the few times that I have used it.

Well the 2005 baseball season has ended for me, coming to a screaching halt after a 3 game shut out thanks to the White Sox. After being on that winning high after last year's World Series Championship, basking in the spotlight, officemates giving me high fives and saying things like, "Well you guys pulled it off. The curse is reversed." No more chanting of "1918!" Or the infamous response, "1918 was a good year for us!" It's over. Done. I feel like I hit a brick wall. My sister called to tell me that she was watching a Red Sox documentary and had to shut it off b/c she felt sick to her stomach. I told her that's just a part of the healing process, we've been there before, the Nation will pick up the pieces and life will normalize again... someday...

1986 was the year that I jumped on the Red Sox bandwagon. I was 9, collecting and trading baseball cards with Dave Stidger. My father must been the influence because I'm sure the games were on that season when they won the AL Pennant. The next year I was able to complete the '87 team set, Wade Boggs, Don Mattingly... I started playing softball that summer, just as the season was starting up and I remember watching a few games with my dad on the couch, analyzing swings and throwing techniques. "See how those outfielders take a couple crow hops? That's all you need to do Erie, couple crow hops, to give you that extra power in your throw." "See his stance, feet shoulder width apart? Just have to keep that bat back, see the pitch, shift your weight from your back leg to your front leg, whip that bat around and BAM! You have to shift that weight Erie."

But since 1986, there was nothing for us, only the shadows of the Evil Empire. But were we really that bad? No sir! We had the bats, the talent, but something happened every game. I was starting to believe that maybe there was a curse, maybe there was something keeping us from the glory. We won World Series titles in 1903, the AL pennants in 1904, but the World Series was not played, again in 1912, 1915, 1916, and of course the last time in 1918. After a weary 30 years, we made it to the World Series in 1946, ultimately losing in 7. Two decades later we were back with avengence but not quite enough spunk to win in 1967 and 1975 but after battling for 7 games in each series. Heart ache. Heart break. It never stops. Then in 1978, who can forget ‘78. I was 18 months old and it is burned into my brain, the year of Bucky Dent's homerun losing to none other than the pinstripes. Do I even have to mention 1986??? Though it was the first year that the Red Sox existed for me, Bill Buckner will be a name that no one will ever forget. Game 6 against the Yankees and the man lets a trickle of a ball go through his legs. Even with a 3 run lead in game 7 2 days later, we still couldn’t pull it off and Buckner’s fate was sealed. The losing streak continues for more fun in 1988 and 1990. Our nemesis, the Yankees, with the ghost of Babe smiling down, laughing at us, got the better of us in 1999 and 2003. No one will forget the 2003 series. Johnny Damon and Jackson colliding out in center field in a game against the A’s. Just awful. What was Jackson doing in there back pedaling to the ball? Both players on the ground, no one getting up. Mueller runs out there and throws the ball in. And what about those those bench clearing innings. Pedro vs. Zimmer and then Pedro vs. Clemens. Zimmer charges the mound and Pedro slams the 70 year old to the ground. Complete and utter chaos. But what did anyone expect? Game 3, tied series for Christ’s sake, emotions are at the highest level that they could ever be. I’ll never forget watching game 3 at my brother’s, called my dad to see if he was watching, "What? Huh? I thought that they were playing tonight at 7. Jesus Christ. What happened?" John screams, "Clemens is old school dude. He doesn’t play around dude!" Fast ball shaves Manny off the plate. That was it, the Nation erupted, the flood gates opened. It was officially a war. But it wasn’t enough. Game 7, 11th inning, Wakefield at the mound, he releases his nuckle and Aaron Boone ends it with a homerun, the dream is dissolved, the Nation cries once again at it’s losses. Though there was never any blame placed on Wakefield, he did it himself and we saw his crushed pride. The entire Red Sox nation was crushed, hurt, confused, asking why? Why? WHY!?

2004. Grady Little was gone. Did he leave Wakefield in too long, did he not use Pedro enough in the series against the Yankees? Who knows. Terry Francona shows up, bringing along with him a born again Christian (?) of a pitcher Schilling. His positive energy and enthusiasm was a little nauseating at first, I even didn’t like the way he sort of talked about the Sox like he had been playing with the team for years. The bitter cold winters and the heartbreaking, gut wrenching losses hardened our souls. Who was this guy? But as fate would have it, the rays of sunshine burned through the overcast skies above all Red Sox fans that year. We played hard, partied hard, won some games, lost some games, and then with a wave of this magical wand, we got the Wild Card. Was it Babe or someone else up there giving us a break after all these years? No, it was the powerful bats of Ortiz and Manny, the quick feet of Johnny, the cool calm and collected Veritek, the amazing pitching ability of Pedro, Timlin, Foulke, Wakefield’s knuckle ball and Schilling when his ankle wasn’t gushing blood and when it was, Bellhorn, Mueller, Cabrera, Millar, Kapler, Mirabelli, everyone. Everything was coming together, we were playing as a team, as a winning team. Then another match of wits against the Yankees in October came. Can you believe this? Could we pull it off? Though the negative outlook was there with a new, almost annoying glimpse of positivity that we all started getting in to, but it slapped us in the face. Before we knew it, 3 games had passed and not one of which was a win against the Yankees. Game 1 we saw a blood soaked sock of Schilling’s, Game 2 we heard the chanting of "Who’s your daddy" in the house that Babe built. Here we go again. The angel on my left and the devil on my right battling it out. "Loosers." "We can do this!" "No we can’t, it’s the freakin Yankees and we are cursed." "Bullcrap!" Another loss in Game 3. Three losses in a row. Things needed to slow down. Then a rain out. My husband and I were married that day, October 15, 2004. The rain held out until the reception, Game 4 was post-poned until Saturday. Two worlds collided that day by marrying a Red Sox fan to a Yankees fan. The first time my dad met him he said, "What's up with the Yankees hat?" But after that night, the fate of the Red Sox 2004 season began to change though the realization did not come until later the next day.

Game 4... A-rod hits another shot over the Monster identical to the one the night before. It never ends. Can we catch a break or what? We sure can and we did... David Ortiz would hit a home run to win and to shake the confidence of Mariano Rivera, we had his numbah! And again in Game 5 Ortiz with a clutch single to win. What the h was going on? In utter disbelief, I couldn’t believe this was happening. There was this happy nervousness going into Game 6. Is this the year? Almost 6 hours of battling, Wakefield was able to redeem himself bringing us to the win. Nothing mattered after that. Nothing was going to stop us. I barely remember sweeping the Cardinals in the World Series, it was the post season against the Yankees that I will never forget, the World Series was just icing. Was it the marriage that broke the curse? I'm sure that we aren't the first couple of opposing sports teams to marry but we lost 3 in a row and then there was that rain out on Friday, October 15, 2004 and we ended up winning the next 4? It makes you wonder...

And then the defending World Champions are swept by the White Sox in 2005. How did this happen? What happened to the dream team? Well Pedro was bought by the Mets, some fans are angry that Foulke didn't get knee surgery, Schilling wasn't supposed to pitch for 18 months after his, Damon had shoulder issues towards the end, we got rid of Kapler, gave Boston native Bellhorn and Embree to the Yankees... The list goes on. We had a World Champion team and we got rid of it. Sure there are free agent issues and other particulars but c'mon. We could take each player and argue why he wasn't any good to us anymore but what about Cabrera? Has anyone been watching him play in the post season for Anaheim? Cripes sake.

But this year is over, it's in the past. We have to keep our heads held high and proud for next year.

Go Sox!