An Exaltation of Red Sox Fans

Last year, Beverly, friends, and I attended Game Four of the Boston-Oakland ALDS. The Sox were down two games to one and facing elimination. An Ortiz double in the eighth scored the go-ahead run and we fans in the stands erupted in screams and high-fives and jumps for joy. The exhilaration was like nothing I had ever experienced. (And they say it’s just a game.)

Now imagine you’re attending an ALCS game (or just watching at home like me) against the legendary evil empire Yankees and it’s 1:30AM in the morning after five plus hours of the Sox fighting to live another day (down three games to none), and you had recently experienced the Sox tying the game in the ninth after they successfully stole a base (something akin to Canada declaring war on North Korea) and then watched three extra innings of nail-biting heart-stopping drama, and unbelievably Papi Ortiz belts a walk-off (more like a jump-off) homerun into the nighttime Yankees bullpen. Mind-blowing man!

The Festival of ALCS Four

It stops the earth on axis, stays
its chill, and steals a summer night.
Autumn stops falling and ascends—
over the bullpen wall in right.
Celebrations soon ensue
with all the bliss and ballyhoo

the western world is famous for:
painted faces shriek, blue caps
take wing, and hands once clasped
in prayer unwind with rhythmic claps
—the resurrection from Ortiz
instills the blood with antifreeze.

The Mantra: one game at a time, one game at a time, one game at a time. Pedro!

Update: see my complete Red Sox ALCS/World Series chapblog here.