Surviving Grady:
When the only thing between you and the post-season is the Baltimore Friggin' Orioles and you can't get it done, you just don't want it bad enough. When Tommy Hunter and a bunch of no-name relievers shut you down, it's time to go looking for your nuts. When you're one of the aces of the staff and a team with no .300 hitters and a collective average of .255 puts up six on you, all the bad-ass looks and F-bombs don't mean a thing. And when you're coaching for the playoffs with three games to go, you can't nap in the middle innings while your starter is running out of gas, you yank him at the first sign of trouble.A Red Sox Fan From Pinstripe Territory:
The entire wild card lead has been blown. It was a lead that didn't even matter when it was so big, because we were supposed to win the division, with the WC an automatic boobie prize. Now it's wild card or nothing, two games left, tied.Over The Monster:
There was more magic in the air in Baltimore tonight. "Other team" magic. ... Now we must continue to sweat.
We're in coin flip territory now, and it's difficult to watch knowing every mistake might be the one that effectively ends the season ...Toeing The Rubber:
The last thing I read last night that was Red Sox-related came from a friend on Facebook who was writing about what a terrible team this is and how awful they are that he can't believe he's still following them. Talk like that annoys me. ... The collective "What have you done for me lately" mindset of many of the fans (and the sports media growing a collection erection over being able to write about how horrible the team is) makes me madder than the current state of the team. ...
Just like there was no reason to believe the Red Sox would go into such a tremendous nosedive throughout September, there's no reason to think they can't pull off a few more wins. Sure it will be difficult. ... But giving up is easy. Turning straight to "poor us for having to endure this team" mode is predictable and feeding right into the hands of the sports media. ...
Why mope around expecting the worst when being excited at the prospect of the best happening is so much more fun? Why CHOOSE, why purposely choose to be miserable when there is still a glimmer of hope?
That glimmer might be faint and extremely difficult for some people to see, but it's there. And as long as it is, I'll be in front of the television at 7 o'clock tonight ... Don't miss out just because the world is telling you not to bother.
4 comments:
Many thanks to Toeing the Rubber and to you for re-running the excerpt here.
I choose to believe.
If I'm wrong, so be it. Costs me nothing.
People think if they somehow don't get their hopes up, it will hurt less. Has that ever worked? Did it ever not hurt to lose?
Is it ok to quote myself here? If not, you can delete, no prob.
I wrote this in May 2010.
Some people are very heavily invested in being right. They're after putting some kind of cosmic "I told you so" on the world. Sometimes it looks like fans would rather say "I told you so" to the more optimistic fans than see their team win.
These "I told you so" fans seem to think they're more savvy, more worldly-wise, more in-the-know. Optimism is for suckers. You naive fools can get your hopes up for a sunny day. I'll sit here scowling in my dark corner predicting rain. Then when it rains -- as it always does at some point -- you'll see that I was right.
Of course, once it rains, we'll all get wet. But some of us will have enjoyed the sunshine all that time.
. . .
How many of us thought the Red Sox would come back to win the 2004 ALCS? I'd be surprised if anyone can honestly say they did. We weren't just down three games in a seven-game series. We were about to be swept. In the historical context of The Rivalry, and especially after 2003, unimaginable heartbreak was on the horizon.
But we kept watching, and we kept hoping. We were going to watch and hope until the final out. When that final out turned out to be in Game 7, after the greatest comeback the sport has ever seen, we were rewarded - for some of us, after a lifetime of heartbreak. We weren't rewarded for our belief, but for our loyalty.
That's what shows we didn't give up. Not what we believed - because what we believed didn't matter. We might have thought the Red Sox would lose the 2004 ALCS, because at some point, that seemed the only possible outcome. We didn't know the impossible was about to happen! So belief or lack of belief is not the issue. Pessimistic doomer or pollyanna optimist, we didn't give up. We kept watching. We kept hoping.
The collective "What have you done for me lately" mindset of many of the fans (and the sports media growing a collection erection over being able to write about how horrible the team is) makes me madder than the current state of the team. ...
A thousand times this.
Still watching and hoping here, too.
My range of thoughts of late - VERY perplexed... a little letdown and disappointed... somewhat nervous... quite hopeful.
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