6/11/1998: Regarding October 25, 1986

This whole reminiscence was brought about by a discussion about which team was the biggest heartbreaker, the Boston Red Sox or the Chicago Cubs. Being a die-hard Sox fan, I say that they are the worst because on occasion they give us hope then snuff it out. Tim agreed, mentioning that in 1986 they were only one strike away from winning it all. This is the flood of memory that followed my reading of that phrase, "One strike away."

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Dan Shaugnessy, a sports columnist for the Boston Globe, actually wrote a book on the 1986 Red Sox called One Strike Away. I never read it myself; I have no need to read about the subject. I lived and died it.

I will offer you this story for reflection. At the aforementioned date my entire family is watching the game. We were one strike away from winning the World Series for the first time since 1918. I used to have a picture of that game from behind home plate in which you could read the scoreboard. It said "Congratulations 1986 World Champions, Boston Red Sox."

At this point, I called a good friend of mine (mind you it was 11:30pm or so, but I knew he'd be up) and laid into him. This was finally it, the waiting was over, I told him. His reply, "It's not over until it's over." He hung up.

Events proceeded. Schiraldi can't get an out. Stanley throws a wild pitch (or Gedman allows a past ball, whoever you feel like blaming.) Buckner misses the ball that he should never have had an opportunity to field, since in every game that year he had been replaced late in the game with a better defensive player. The game ends. We are all in shock. Not a word is said. Not a word CAN be said.

The phone rings.

I made the pronouncement that anyone who touches that phone is a dead person. My friend finally gives up and hangs up. This merely delays the inevitable, as he is in our morning carpool.

Strong consideration was given to simply not picking him up the next day

One of the radio show hosts here was a complete cynic concerning the Red Sox, and with good reason. All throughout his life they had often been pretty good, but everyone knew they were never really good enough. All through the year, he kept the refrain, "they won't do it, they can't do it, they never do it."

Does anyone remember that the Red Sox were down to there last outs against the Angels in the League Championship Series? Down two runs, bottom of the ninth. One out. Don Baylor hits a home run to make it a one run game. Another out. Dave Henderson comes to bat, takes two
awful swings. It's all over, we think, and my dad says it out loud.

Unjaded sixteen-year old youth that I am, I maintain a glimmer of hope.

The pitch comes in, Henderson swings, and the ball goes.....and goes....I moved to the edge of the couch and watched it go over the wall. Next thing I know I'm rubbing my knuckles because I had jumped up and smashed them into the ceiling (a la Nick Cage in Raising Arizona.)

The game went another inning and we won. Back to Boston, and Clemens dominated the Angels in the final game to win the series.

At this point the above mentioned host converted. "I believe," he told us after the game. "I finally believe. These guys can do it."

Cut to after Game 6 of the Series. We've turned the radio on because we know this man's show will start after the game. The standard lead-in plays and the radio tells us "Here's Eddie."

Silence.

And then the most heart wrenching scream of pain you will ever hear a man utter.

Once again, the Red Sox had planted a tiny seed of hope in the hearts of their fans, just to cut the seed out and rub salt into the wound.

I hope against hope that some time in my lifetime the Red Sox win it all. People say baseball is dying, but Boston is a baseball town and nothing will ever change that. No matter how good the Celtics, Bruins, or Patriots may be, the Red Sox create the buzz and define the mood of the city in a way that few things can. You could feel it in 1995 when they won the American League East. You could just FEEL the energy in the city. Boston is a great place to be in the summer, probably the best city in the country. But when the Sox are in the pennant race, it's indescribable.

I hope against hope that they will win it all, because this city will explode in a party that will make Mardi Gras look like a bunch of grandmothers on a church outing. And I want to be here to see it, to feel it, to live it.

Can you tell we like our sports here in Boston?

I'm not quite like Eddie yet. I still hope.

end
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Epilogue. I retained hope. They did win the World Series in 2004, and it was every bit as glorious as I could have imagined.