"One Step Short of Comatose..."
“One Step Short Of Comatose…”
I have no words for what I have just witnessed. Seriously - Validation, Emotion, Vindication, Passion, none of these seem to cover what I’m feeling. It’s about 12:30 AM on October 21st, 2004, and I am so unbelievably happy, (no wait, not happy, so unbelievably content,) that you could probably stick a six-foot cactus in my living room and I would high-five it and give it a bear hug. My away message on AIM right now features seven different “smileys” for seven different emotions over seven games, and the words “I don’t have any words right now. I’m speaking in emoticons. Seriously, I just need to go to bed.”
I haven’t seen my dogs for probably about three hours. After I screamed at the TV when Dale Sveum and his helicopter arm got Johnny Damon gunned at the plate (he was safe, by the way), the dogs cowered in fear. When Papi came up and, inevitably, hit a 2-run homerun instead of a 3-run shot, they left the room. When Damon redeemed himself in the 2nd inning with a lazy four-run fly ball, they went downstairs. And when he did it again in the 4th, this time with an absolutely mammoth blast, I had to put them outside. I guess my dogs aren’t too fond of witnessing a man laying in his bed, then suddenly jumping to his feet and screeching “He did it AGAIN!!!”
Last year, after Aaron Boone deposited a ball somewhere between sections 114 and 124 of The Stadium, I just froze. I turned away from the screen and walked out of the bar, silently. There was absolutely no reaction on my face, no emotion at all. I was so drained that it actually took a day or two for me to regain any feeling. That was the kind of sporting event that makes you question a lot of things. For me, it actually made me think, “Maybe I’m on the wrong side here. Maybe good doesn’t beat evil. Maybe I should just give it up. (And of course the reason you’re all here – Maybe I should start writing again…)”
That’s why this season’s “Theme” rang so true to me – Keep The Faith. I can’t even begin to explain to you how many Boston fans just couldn’t do that, either after the ’03 ALCS, or after the lousy start to this year, after the Nomar trade, and especially after falling to 0-3 against the Yankees in this ALCS. Most fans would have quit on this team months ago. I have to admit that after 0-3, I was ready to. About a week ago, after 0-2, I more or less wrote this team’s obituary. I wasn’t quite ready to call it quits, but I also wasn’t expecting anything out of this team. Maybe one win to save face and avoid a sweep.
Sometime during Game 4, it started to click with The Nation:
Hey, if they win this one, Petey goes tomorrow on almost full rest at home - that’s not so bad. And if he survives, we might get Schilling back for one more chance to do what he said he would. Then it’s into seven, and it’s all bets off.
How they did it, I’ll never know.
Anyway, back to my point. In my short time on Earth, I’ve only gotten emotional at two sporting events. When Ray Bourque got his Stanley Cup, and when The Patriots won the Super Bowl in 2001 (I was more in shock than emotional). Tonight, when Ruben Sierra dribbled a little nubber to Pokey Reese, I was standing in the middle of my bedroom. When Mientkiewicz squeezed the final out, I’m not sorry to admit, I totally crumbled. My legs were frozen in place, but the rest of me was numb. My hands covered my head, and I doubled over onto the floor. Even when the Pats took down the Rams, I wasn’t crying, I was stone-faced, staring at the screen, with tears welling in my eyes. Tonight, I just let it all go. And I don’t think I was alone.
I had to lie down almost immediately afterward (although I stayed alert enough to see the Nike commercial for the 2004 Sox – that was GREAT). I checked my phone to find I had missed seven calls during the game and had five new voice mails. Most of them were just checking to make sure I hadn’t gone catatonic. I’d love to share all of them with you, but I can’t. What I will do is share a message I got about a week ago.
Many of you know I had a bunch of college buddies from NY/NJ. Most (not all, but most) of them are Yankees fans. For four years I had to watch them celebrate; listen to the arrogance, the sense of entitlement that comes with 26 Championship rings (Although last I checked, none of my friends were actually wearing any of those rings). After Game 2 of this ALCS, I got one drunken phone call shared between two Yankee fan friends, Frank and Knob, extolling the virtues of being a Yankee fan, and reminding me why I choose to cheer for the Sox. After the last four nights, I’m sure they had hoped that I deleted the call, but something inside told me to save it, just in case. Boy am I glad I did. The following is a (edited) bit of that message:
Frank: “Hey, Big D! How does it feel, another year of being a (expletive) loser? Following that (expletive) team once again – we’re gonna dominate you. Hey, hold on, someone else wants to talk…”
Knob: “Hey, Big D, why don’t you write a (expletive) column about how the (expletive) Red Sox (long series of expletives and suggestions about Boston’s collective sexuality). Huh? What do you think about that, you (really bad expletive)? Huh, you (really bad expletive)…how about Pedro, that (expletive, racial expletive) piece of (yeah, take a guess)? I’m gonna break his (expletive) legs and throw him in the (expletive) river, I’m gonna kill him.”
Frank: Well D, that’s a synopsis, but basically what I’m trying to say is that the Red Sox are the most embarrassing (expletive) organization in baseball, and year after year, they find a way to lose…
I would like to thank Frank and Knob for typifying all that is wrong with baseball and all that I hate about the Yankees and their fans, and for doing it in a nice recordable format so that I could listen to it over, and over, and over again last night. Especially as I watched one Yankee after another make an ass out of himself at the plate during the game. It made for a nice soundtrack to my night, and that last line of the message, well I think that sums it up.
Right now, the Yankees are the most embarrassing organization in all of baseball, finding a way to lose. And I couldn’t be hap-, uh, more content.
Well, it’s almost 2AM now, and I’m exhausted, and I have to work tomorrow. I’m going to hold off on posting this until I get to work so that I can re-read it and make sure I didn’t ramble too much, although I’m sure I did. It’s amazing how this feels right now. I just hope my body and my mind can survive another week of this. Bring on whoever is next.
Good night.
posted by Big D @ 12:00 AM
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