"A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever"
 

I'll bet many of you are like me. When a certain year is mentioned by a friend, on TV, or read in the newspapers, an event or events that occurred that year will instantly pop into your mind. It can be either positive or negative. For instance, when I hear "1969" I think of the moon landing and the Miracle Mets World Series championship. "1994" I think of the year we didn't have a World Series. "1977" I think of the death of Elvis Presley, the New York City blackout and the year I became a Sox fan. And "2001" I think of one terrible Tuesday morning in September.

"2004" will be a year that will be fondly remembered by me for the rest of my life. Will it be for Lance Armstrong winning his sixth straight Tour de France? Phil Mickelson finally winning a major golf tournament? The Patriots winning their second Super Bowl in three years? No on all three counts (no offense to all of you Pats fans out there).

It was the year the tables were finally turned. My life was turned upside down. It was the year I had dreamed for for so many years. It was the year I had dreamed I would see before I die.

It was the year the media-created, so-called "curse" disappeared. It was the year we could all hold our heads up high and walk proudly in the sun.

2004: The Boston Red Sox became baseball's World Champions.

I get goosebumps just writing that sentence. I still have to keep reminding myself that it really did happen. And I never get tired of saying that sentence.

Jim Caple at ESPN.com recently wrote about the Sox triumph that "Boston fans haven't shut up for a minute since it happened." You got that right, Jimmy boy. And we won't be quiet about it for the rest of the winter, especially when there are Yankee fans within earshot!

Earlier in December I was walking down Broadway here in New York on a late Saturday night when a Yankee fan (probably drunk, as they're doing their best to forget last October) saw my Sox hat and yelled over at me, "Boston sucks!" That intelligent statement brought out a typical response from me. "No, we're champions of the world moron!" And then I made a choking sound at him.

There was no reply.

I walk all over New York wearing my Red Sox hat or my new "2004 World Champions" hat. I see plenty of people wearing Yankee hats, and I generally get blank stares when they see me. I say nothing to them, just let them see me wearing the hat. I really want to say "We own this town now!' to them, but seeing their sad faces does just fine for me. I see lots of Sox hats in New York, and those people either smile at me or give me a handshake or a high-five. It's a great feeling.

There were so many great moments to this season. It's hard to pick just one great one. Bill Mueller's home run off Riviera to cap the great comeback of July 24; Jason Varitek sticking his mitt in the face of Yankee Pretty Boy after he used such colorful language at him and wouldn't go down to first base quietly; The Sox beating Rivera a second time, this time at Yankee Stadium in September; Big Papi's home run to win the ALDS over the Angels; his second walkoff homer to win Game 4 of the ALCS; his game winning single to take Game 5; Curt Schilling's revenge in Game 6 and Pretty Boy's embarrassing "what did I do?" act in the eighth inning. All special, and a tough choice.

As great as all of those moments were, the one that will stay with me forever is the way the Red Sox destroyed the Yankees in their own ballpark in Game 7. The long faces of all the Yankee fans as it was ending, including that of well-known frontrunner  Spike Lee, was simply priceless. What made it even better was how the Yankee fans were leaving in droves in the ninth, and as the Sox were about to win, The Nation had taken over and was chanting for the Sox pennant!!

And seven days later, The Trophy was ours. In a four game sweep over the best team in baseball. It was the capper on what is arguably the most incredible postseason run in baseball history. And our boys from Boston did it.

All the past failures were long forgotten. 1949, 1978, 1999, and 2003 were just years the Sox didn't win the pennant. The Yankees and their fans were paid back with interest for all the years of their obnoxious abuse. Yogi Berra's 1999 comment "The Red Sox can't beat us" was disproven once and for all. They now wear the "choker" tag, and it is something they have to deal with for the rest of their lives. (50 years from now, if I still have all my marbles, I will STILL be ragging on my four brothers-in-law who are Yankee fans about it!) The Red Sox are now known as the "Comeback Kids", the team with heart and spirit and the never-say-die attitude. The years of people snickering at us and calling us losers is over. Forever.

They can try to answer back by going out and getting Randy Johnson or Carlos Beltran. My response is, "whatever". The Yankees are on a slippery slope. They remind me of the early 1980s Yankees, the ones who brought in hired guns and traded away the farm system. By the end of the decade they had one of the worst teams in baseball.  George is calling all the shots again. They are on that road again. Mark my words.

Theo Epstein is building a nice farm system. He's come into his job as GM with a plan. I like what he has done so far, and in a year or so, the young kids like Hanley Ramirez and David Murphy will be ready. Theo, with the guts of a riverboat gambler, has earned my trust. We will see if it pays off.

For years some people have had the theory that if the Red Sox ever win a World Series, they will become just "another team", and that the "aura" surrounding them will be gone. As Bill Simmons so eloquently stated not long ago at ESPN.com, "That's exactly what we as Red Sox fans want to have happen. No more '1918' chants. We just want to be another team." I could put it any better myself.

The hell with aura. We are the Champions. (I can finally listen to that Queen song without turning off the radio.)

It's been the year of our dreams. I hope all of you in Red Sox Nation are still celebrating. I want to wish all of you a very Happy New Year. I want to thank Ryan at Bornintoit for allowing me to express my thoughts in this column, and I also want to thank all of you for all the wonderful emails you have sent to me in support of my column.

Thanks also to every member of the Boston Red Sox for making this the greatest year of our lives. All the abuse I took over 27 years was worth it for those 10 glorious days this past October. Thanks also for bringing the Trophy down to New York this past November. I got to touch it and get photos taken with it. (I created a New Year's card with that photo, and many Yankee fans I know got one.)

I want to close it by quoting from the 19th century poet John Keats. He once wrote, "A thing of beauty is a joy forever." He obviously wasn't writing about the Red Sox, but it could certainly apply to all of us in The Nation now. The events of the nights of October 20 and October 27 of this year were both a thing of beauty, and no matter what happens from here on out, they will both be a joy forever.

We certainly won't stop reminding Yankee fans about that. Ever.
 

John Brian Quinn Is A Freelance Writer For Bornintoit.com. Feel free to contact John with any

writing opportunities or to thank him for the amazing work he did for this site in 2004!

Mail Brooklyn Sox Fan!

"A Tale of Two Game Sevens, Part 2"

I couldn't believe they were doing this. A comeback for the ages, a comeback that would live in the annals of baseball forever, was within sight. Four days earlier, I left the Riviera totally deflated, demoralized and brokenhearted. The dream looked like it was dead for another year. Another sorry chapter in the Red Sox-Yankees was about to be written. The next night Dave Roberts stole second, possibly the biggest stolen base in baseball history. Suddenly the tables were beginning to turn.

We were alive again!
 

Less than 72 hours later, it was all even again. The three games I witnessed were among the most heartstopping, on-the-edge-of-your-seat baseball games I had ever seen. The tide had completely shifted in favor of the Red Sox, and the Yankees and their fans knew it. The brakes that the Sox never seemed to get were going their way. Tony Clark's ground rule double in Game 5. The two correctly reversed calls that benefitted the Sox in Game 6. Curt Schilling pitching the game of his life on a bad ankle, also in Game 6.

It had gotten to the point where Derek Jeter actually called on "The Ghosts of Yankees Past" to step in and help get the Yankees to the pennant. (I guess he, like most other observers, had little or no faith in Game 7 starter Kevin Brown.) The Yankee brass brought in Yogi Berra, and even Bucky Dent, to throw out the first ball before the game. It was also pointed out that the game was being played on Mickey Mantle's birthday.

You could smell the desperation in the air.

Right at the end of Game 6, my buddy Riff, who was at that game, left me a message on my cell phone that he had an extra ticket to Game 7, and wanted to know if I wanted to go. Also, as I was leaving the Riviera that night, another Sox fan in the bar stopped me and asked me if I was interested in buying two tickets to Game 7 off him, at face value. They were both tempting offers, and I turned them both down.

I decided I had to be at the Riviera for Game 7. I thought I had to be there to "exorcise" the demons from last year's disasterous Game 7 loss. But I also didn't want to be at Yankee Stadium if the Sox lost again. (OK, so I wasn't 100% confident that Game 7 was in the bag.)

I really wanted to be around nothing but Red Sox fans, no matter how Game 7 turned out. I got to the Riviera nearly three hours early, and it was jammed even that early. As soon as I got my place at the bar, I bumped into a New York Daily News reporter who happened to be a Red Sox fan and was doing a story about the game from the New York-based Sox fan''s viewpoint. It was a pleasure to talk and hang out with him.

As the game got going, the feeling in the bar was: "This will be our night". A few people told me they were nervous (like I was), but the bar was really upbeat and alive. The Sox had made history just getting to Game 7, but you could feel that nothing could stand in their way, not even the Yankees.

Johnny Damon was thrown out at home in the top of the first, and that brought everyone down, but only for about 30 seconds. David Ortiz hit the first pitch he saw into the right field seats, and it was 2-0. The bar went crazy. Great start, he we go.......

In the second, the Sox loaded the bases and the Yankees pulled Kevin Brown in favor of Javier Vazquez. Johnny Damon also hit the first pitch he saw, and it also went into the right field seats for 6-0 Sox lead. The bar went absolutely bananas, so much that my friend Matt had his glasses knocked off his face, and they broke in half. Matt had no backup pair, but being the trooper that he is, used some scotch tape and put them back together.

The Sox, as well as their fans, were just not going to be denied.

As soon as the Sox took that big lead, I got REALLY nervous and started pacing. "Why can't it be the eighth inning right now?" I kept thinking to myself. But fortunately, Derek Lowe was pitching his best game since his no-hitter in 2002. He had the Yankees off balance inning by inning, and by the sixth he had a allowed just one run scoring single in the third.

Johnny Damon's two run blast in the fourth made it 8-1, and that's when I knew that a repeat of last year's Game 7 was not going to happen. Pedro Martinez entered the game in the bottom of the seventh, and the Yankee fans began their inane "Who's Your Daddy" chant again. This time it looked so desperate and pathetic coming from fans of a team down by seven runs. Martinez promptly gave up two runs and had the bar groaning. "Why did Francona put him in?" was said by more than one Riviera denizen, and in rather more colorful language. But Pedro struck out the last two hitters and calmed us all down for the moment.

Mark Bellhorn led off the eighth with a home run off the foul pole to make it 9-3 and send the Riv back into another frenzy. The Sox answered back the Yankees mini-threat, and then sealed it was another run in the ninth. There would be no miracle Yankee comeback.

When Ruben Sierra grounded out to Pokey Reese to end it, the Riviera exploded in delight. People were bouncing off walls and chairs went flying down. I was part of a group that was jumping up and down in a circle the same way players do when someone hits a walk-off home run. The Red Sox had pulled off the single greatest comeback in the history of American sports. And they had done it to the team that had caused more heartache to them and their loyal and proud supporters.

The Sox beat the hated Yankees by a touchdown on their own home field. Not only beat them, but humiliated them in front of all their fans, and the entire world.  As Mike Barnicle said in the HBO special "Reverse of the Curse of the Bambino": "We danced on their lawn". I can't think of a better way they could have rewarded Red Sox Nation.

It was by far the sweetest win in the history of the Boston Red Sox. In one night the Sox had erased so many bad memories. Yankee fans no longer had The Babe, Bucky and Boone to fall back on. No more "1918" chants. No more of that insipid "Curse of the Bambino" nonsense. The Yankees had choked away the longest lead in the history of a postseason series. They were THREE OUTS from a sweep in Game 4, and had blown it. From now until the end of eternity, whenever a team has a 3-0 lead in a postseason series, talk will be that only one team has ever blown a 3-0 lead in a series: The New York Yankees. And only one team has ever come back from a 3-0 deficit: The Boston Red Sox.

We may never see that happen ever again.

It is so sweet, it is beyond words.

I met another friend of mine named Matt that night as we started celebrating on 7th Avenue South. When he saw me, we embraced and then he said to me, "John, we've got them!!"

Absolutely right Matt. Yankee fans can talk all they want about their 26 championships (and you know they will). World titles are forever, and no one can take them away. But this flop will stand for all time, and is a part of their permanent record. It may happen that in some future series a team will come back from 3-0 to win. But it took 101 years to happen for the first time.

And the Red Sox were the first to do it.

In late November, the U.S. Davis Cup team was down 2-0 in a five game series against Spain. They won game 3 to force a fourth game (which they unfortunately lost). Before the win the team captain told his team one thing before the match started.

"Remember the Red Sox."

October 20, 2004: The night an Empire fell, and a Nation was set free.

Happy Holidays to all of you in Red Sox Nation.

"Thanks for the Memories Pedro"

12-18-2004

It was as surreal a scene as I've ever seen in my life. A Boston icon, standing next to the New York Mets manager and general manager at a Shea Stadium press conference, wearing a Mets jersey with the number 45 on it. It was the number he wore in his seven years in a Red Sox uniform. A uniform number that will surely be retired by the Red Sox one day.

Pedro Martinez, future Hall of Famer, is now gone. Last Sunday it looked almost a sure thing that he'd be back for another three years in a Sox uniform. But the Mets offered him something the Red Sox just couldn't give him: a guaranteed four year deal.

There has been a lot of speculating as to why Pedro spurned the Sox to go to the Mets. Only Pedro in his own mind knows exactly why. One word that seems to pop up often around this is: respect. Pedro seems to equate more money with respect. Many modern day athletes do. The money offer the Sox made him was about the same the Mets will be on the hook for: $13+ million per year. Only the Mets took the gamble and made it a four year deal.

For the Mets it was a gamble they felt they had to make. Sharing the city of the New York with the Yankees, they needed to make a statement to their fans and critics, as well a big splash. They have become an afterthought in this city, losing the war for the heart of the New York baseball fan (as well as the tabloid backpages). Bringing in Pedro as their number 1 starter makes the Mets talked about again, but just as important it will put more fannies in the seats when he pitches. But the Mets are not a contender just yet. They have numerous other holes to fill, such as in their outfield, at first base and in the bullpen.

They won't come out and say it, but the Red Sox are quietly glad that the Mets have taken Pedro off their hands. His "diva" act has been put up with for years, and he was becoming more high maintenance as the years have progressed. The Sox brass handled his exit by taking the high road, and I am glad about that. Pedro is no longer the dominating pitcher he was in his best years (1998-2000), and his numbers have been declining steadily. His ERA was the highest of his Sox career in 2004, and he gave up 25 home runs as well (up from 7 in 2003). Pedro is still a good quality pitcher, and should pitch well for the Mets. But there is always that worry about his shoulder. The MRI exam he just took satisified the Mets.

The Mets press conference introducing Pedro was interesting to say the least. While he showed affection for the city of Boston and the Red Sox fans, he said some less than flattering things about Curt Schilling and about the Red Sox brass. He clearly had a problem with Schilling, and that could be chalked up to a battle of egos. He said that Theo Epstein was "arrogant" as well as "late" with the Sox offer to him. Was it me, or were there not any other teams but the Sox and Mets making him an offer? He and his agent tried to get the Yankees involved in it, but they clearly had no interest in bringing him to the Bronx. (They went along with the charade, but only to try to make the Red Sox brass sweat. It didn't work.)

Most Red Sox fans I've seen are not singing the blues over Pedro's departure. The concern now seems to be who the Sox will bring in as his replacement. I will always respect Pedro for what he did as a member of the Red Sox. I was at Fenway for one of his best performances, the 13-1 wipeout over the Yankees and Traitor Clemens in the 1999 ALCS at Fenway. His 3-1, one-hitter against the Yankees in September 1999 maybe one of the best pitched games I've ever seen. He struck out 17 that night in an absolutely overpowering performance. At his peak he was the equal of Sandy Koufax was at his best with the Dodgers. If Pedro ever returns to Fenway as an opposition player and I am there, I will give him a standing ovation. I'm sure the rest of the Fenway faithful would do likewise.

The fact that Pedro leaves with a World Series ring from 2004 makes his departure a little easier to take. It doesn't leave nearly the bad taste that Roger Clemens' exit left Sox fans in 1996. I wish Pedro could have handled his departure a little better, but so be it. I do wish him all the best, and thank him for some wonderful memories I'll always treasure. I've been telling Sox fans that it is time to look to the future now. The New York press has been doing a little too much gloating over this the last few days (as well as the possible trade of Randy Johnson to the Bronx). I have confidence in Theo Epstein and his plans for the Sox future. While every GM has his clunkers, Theo's earned my faith after the glorious 2004 season.

I'm sure most Sox fans will be keeping an eye to how Pedro does with the Mets in 2005. If it turns into another lost season for the Mets, it will be very interesting to see if there are any "Pedro controversies" surrounding Shea Stadium. It will be really fascinating to see how Willie Randolph, the new Mets manager, handles Pedro and his "perks". I do have a word of advice for Willie on the subject.

You'd better stock up on Advil. You just might need it.

"A Tale of Two Game Sevens, Part 1"

12-14-2004

One of the daily rituals of life these days is to go online and check my morning email. 95% of it these days are spam from porn sites, get-rich-quick schemes and that ilk. I can't hit the delete button quick enough to get rid of them. Then my focus goes over to reading the Red Sox articles at both the Boston Globe and Boston Herald sites. I do it every morning, without fail.

Yes, even on Christmas morning.

Right after Game 5 of the 2003 ALCS, I found a sidebar article in the Globe about a haven for those Red Sox fans "stuck behind enemy lines" in New York City. It was called The Riviera Cafe and Sports Bar in Greenwich Village. I knew I had to watch Game 6 there. I did, and had one of the greatest times of my life watching the Sox win and force a Game 7 the next day. So there was only one place I could be to watch that deciding contest.

And it wasn't at Yankee Stadium.

I got to the bar about 2 and 1/2 hours before the scheduled start time. I thought that was way to early, but to my surprise, the bar was already filling up, with all tables and seats at the bar gone. And shortly after I arrived, a sign was posted at the door that the no one else would be admitted because the bar was filled to capacity (about 150 people was the maximum it could hold).

The bar was completely and solidly Red Sox fans. (During the 2004 season the bar owners would tell me that they wouldn't let in Yankee fans for games like this, as they feared fights would break out.) There was a nervous anticipation on this night, but most Sox fans I spoke to were optimistic about a Sox win. The comeback in Game 6 was encouraging, and with Pedro Martinez pitching, I felt an upset was clearly a possibility.

I was talking to one guy from Massachusetts before the game got under way, and he told me his long history of rooting for the Sox, going back to the Impossible Dream team of 1967. I told him that I became a fan in 1977, when I was 15. I'll never forget what he said to me next.

"So you weren't born a Red Sox fan then?" he asked me.

"No, I had a conversion you might say", I told him.

"I guess you are a 'naturalized' Sox fan then", he said.

I discovered that "naturalized" Sox fans are definitely a minority in the Riviera. Most are expatriate New Englanders, from all over the region. But that night I definitely felt a kinship with all of these Sox fans, no matter where they were from. And no matter what happened on this night, I'd have a sanctuary to watch the Red Sox in 2004.

The bar was buzzing from the start. Every call that went the Sox way was cheered, while every call that went the Yankees way was booed. But I was surprised who got booed the loudest. During the pregame on NESN, writer Dan Shaughnessy of the Boston Globe was on talking about the game, and the bar reaction was incredible. The boos rang out, as did the colorful language. More than one person yelled out "F#@% You Shaugnessy" at the screen. This is the same Shaugnessy who wrote "Curse of the Bambino" in 1990 and started a cottage industry about a so-called curse that had haunted Sox fans up to this very day.

When Trot Nixon stepped up to the plate in the second inning with a man on base, the bar broke into a chorus of "Here We Go Jesus, Here We Go". (Trot is a devout Christian, and let the world know it after his ALDS game winning home run against Oakland.) Trot then sent a Roger Clemens pitch into the right field stands for a 2-0 lead, and the bar chanted with glee, "Jesus Loves You, Jesus Loves You". "My, what a religious crowd we have here tonight" I thought to myself. Throughout they game I was chanting along with everyone else, and by the end, my voice was nearly completely gone.

The Sox extended the lead to 4-0, and knocked Clemens out of the game in the fourth inning. The bar was absolutely rocking. A chant of "Na Na Hey Hey (Kiss Him Goodbye)" broke at the Traitor's departure. But one guy next to me was appalled at this. "We haven't won anything yet!!" he screamed out, but nobody listened to him.

The Yankees moved closer, 4-2, on two Jason Giambi solo homers (juice-aided, maybe?) but David Ortiz' eighth inning home run got the bar in a better mood. I even thought to myself, "AL Champions", but wouldn't allow myself to say it out loud. One guy even yelled out, "The Curse is over!!" But that got a very cold response from the rest of the bar around him.

We're all Sox fans, and nobody else had the courage to make that pronouncement just yet.

Then the bottom of the eighth started. I know it's really painful for all of us to rehash it, so I won't here, although the events of this past October have lessened it somewhat. But just about the entire bar figured that Pedro Martinez was coming out when the first three men reached after the first out was made.

When the inning ended and the game was tied, one guy standing right next to me yelled out, "Fire Grady Little right now!!!"

The bar was noticeably more pessimistic as the ninth started, but I got on my seat and tried to rally the troops. A "Let's Go Red Sox" chant filled the bar, but it was not of the same intensity as was earlier in the game. The bar was still as packed as it was when the game started when the bottom of the eleventh inning began.

My head was actually turned away from the TV screen when Tim Wakefield went into his delivery for the first pitch. I looked up, saw the swing, then the ball heading for the leftfield stands.

I turned my head away from the TV. I turned to one of the guys standing next to me and I simply said, "I can't watch this."

I grabbed my bag from the floor, put on my jacket and headed for the door. I looked all around the crowded bar and at the faces of all the Sox fans. It was an eerie sight.

No one said a word. No one cursed or screamed. Everyone stood there watching the screens in stunned silence.

The Riviera had turned into a funeral parlor with one swing of the bat.

As I reached the door, I could see tears in the eyes of a couple of fans. I was just numb, and as I reached the street, I could hear the honking of the horns, and the sounds of jubilation coming from Yankee fans in the Village.

A night that began with such anticipation and happiness had ended in disaster.

As I walked up 7th Avenue South and headed for the subway, a number of thoughts went through my head. One was that the Red Sox will always be my team, and no matter what happens, they will always have my support. They roped me in back in 1977, and I can never give up on them. Ever.

Of course another was: "Let's Go Marlins!"

I also knew that I'd be back in the Riviera in 2004, to root for the Sox and make new friends with other Nation members who were just like me: diehard fans who wouldn't rest until they saw the Red Sox win it all.


Coming Soon: "A Tale of Two Game Sevens, Part 2", and "Thanks for the Memories Pedro"

"Moments That Last a Lifetime"
 

12/4/2004

On November 22 I got a rather mysterious email from a friend of mine I knew through the Riviera Cafe in Greenwich Village. He told me it would be worth my while coming down to the Riv to check out a DVD another friend of mine had. I knew it was a Red Sox DVD of some type.

That pal of mine had an advanced copy of the Official 2004 World Series DVD that was being put out by Major League Baseball. (It was actually being released the next day.) After we watched the Patriots win on Monday Night Football, the DVD went on.  About two dozen of us enjoyed the video tremendously, but about 70 minutes into it, I saw a sight that I could not believe I was seeing on the screen.

It was me.

It was the entire Riviera crew on screen as the Red Sox were about to clinch the World Series Championship. There I was, in Sox jersey and hat, cheering on our boys to the title. We were all so surprised to see ourselves in the video that we had one of our friends play the DVD back and show it again. After Keith Foulke flipped the last out over to Doug Mientkiewicz and the title belonged to the Sox, there we are again, celebrating like crazy and bouncing off the walls of the Riviera.

Absolutely surreal.

So, as I continue with my review of the World Series DVD, I thought I should come clean about that full disclosure. (At least I'm more up front than Jason Giambi is.)

On the day of the DVD release, I searched many big video outlets of New York City trying to find it, such as Barnes and Noble's, Virgin, Tower, Best Buy and Borders. (Only the Borders store in Lower Manhattan had it, and they sold it out right away.) I knew they all would be carrying it,  and despite the fact the Red Sox win the title, they know lots of Sox fans are here and it would sell. I ended up ordering it through Amazon.com, and just received it earlier this week.

As I write this I have watched the video over and over again. I give it three stars (out of four). Denis Leary does a terrific job as the narrator. (I guess they had to pick a big time Red Sox fan to do it. Ben Affleck already had his turn.) Most of the video is of course about the World Series itself, but it begins with the Red Sox quest for a title after the disappointing end to 2003. Everything leading up to the playoffs is really just an overview of what's to come, so they spent very little or no time talking about the A-Rod non-deal, Nomar's early season injury, or the Red Sox mediocre summer.

One thing that did bother me, and I think it did most Sox fans that I saw on the Internet message boards too. Way too much time was spent rehashing this so-called "Curse of the Bambino", namely focusing in on every Sox World Series loss since 1946. I'm not saying it should be totally ignored, but more time should have been spent elsewhere.

I would also like to have seen more on the ALCS miracle comeback. There was no mention at all of the two reversed calls in Game 6 (they showed Mark Bellhorn's home run but no mention of the controversy), and especially no mention of the infamous A-Rod "slap" going down to first base. That was a turning point in that game, and in the series.

I was also disappointed not to see the World Championship trophy presentation to John Henry. When we were celebrating in the Riviera that night, the bar nearly completely stopped when the presentation was made. Then we erupted in cheers and back to celebrating. I thought that was a glaring oversight.

But the video is still really well-made, with some nice bonus features, like many former Sox greats like Dwight Evans, Johnny Pesky and even the late Smokey Joe Wood (back in 1984) talking about their World Series experiences. I also liked hearing from opponents like Joe Garagiola and Tim McCarver talk about playing the Red Sox in the Fall Classic.

The bonus features also include a very funny pregame take with Kevin Millar. He ends up talking to the camera by himself before Game 4, and then is shown chatting with the fans over the dugout about how the ALCS wasn't over yet. (One day I'm sure I'll see Millar on the Tonight Show doing a standup routine.)

Most of the key Red Sox players are interviewed, especially Millar, Lowe, Damon, Ortiz, Martinez, Wakefield, Schilling and Ramirez. There's also a lot of both Terry Francona and Theo Epstein. I'm also glad they had a section at the end for the celebration and parade in Boston. But the most touching moments of the entire DVD both involve Johnny Pesky. Curt Schilling is shown kissing him after the Series clincher, and then Tim Wakefield gives him the championship trophy. (That was the symbolic sharing of the trophy between the current and past Sox players.) First time I saw that in the Riviera, it brought nearly everyone to tears.

Each game of the World Series is singularly broken down, and finally, as the Sox are about to reach the Promised Land, there I am. I'm really proud to be part of Red Sox history (sort of!). I've watched the clinching over and over again, and it never fails to put a tear in my eye while I'm watching it. This was the moment all of us as Red Sox fans have dreamed about seeing all or most of our lives, and there it is on film.

Curt Schilling may have said it best as the Sox are about to pop open the champagne bottles to begin the celebration of the World Championship. "Here's to the greatest Red Sox team ever assembled!"


Amen.

I'm currently reading the Stewart O'Nan/ Stephen King book, "Faithful", and I'll have a review of that when I finish it. "Faith Rewarded", the NESN-produced DVD, is about to be released, and I will have a review of that also when I get it. That is an eagerly awaited video, as it will be a complete take on the 2004 season, not just the postseason.

The 2004 World Series DVD is definitely something every Red Sox fan should own. I'll watch it another 100,000 times before I die. I'll never, ever get tired of seeing that comebacker to Keith Foulke.

It's a moment that will last a lifetime.
 

"Strike Out ALS"

By John Brian Quinn

Mail Brooklyn Sox Fan!

The night of October 24, 2004 was a really special evening. It was Game 2 of the World Series and I arrived at my favorite watering hole, The Riviera Sports Bar, about 3 hours early. The bar would be filling up with dozens and dozens of Red Sox fans gathering to watch the game, and I wanted a choice place to see it. I was so early I got a seat at the bar and watched all the late football games with a few other early arrivals.

The Red Sox had a 1-0 lead in the Series and Curt Schilling taking the mound. He won Game 6 of the ALCS over the Yankees pitching with a right ankle tendon that had to be sutchered by the Red Sox medical staff so he could pitch. The TV cameras focused all night on his bloody right sock. It was scene right out of "The Natural".

Curt took the hill once again to a thunderous ovation from the Fenway faithful. As he took his warmup pitches, the TV cameras again focused on his right ankle, which again had a bloody sock. But this time, Curt had written "K ALS" on his right shoe, as obviously he knew the attention of the media would once again be on his damaged ankle.

As soon as I saw those letters I knew exactly what it meant. "K ALS" meant "strike out ALS", or Lou Gehrig's Disease. It is the neuromuscular disease that killed the legendary Yankee first baseman in the prime of his life, at age 38. The eradication of the disease has been an incredible passion of Schilling's for many years. He first became involved with search for a cure back in his days with the Phillies, forming a foundation called "Curt's Pitch for ALS" with his wife Shonda. The organization continues to grow strong, even after the trade to Arizona and later to the Red Sox. To date, "Curt's Pitch for ALS" has raised over $5 million.

I was so happy Curt Schilling put those four capital letters on his right shoe. Anything that brings attention to that dreaded disease and the fight against it is a special thing.

I lost my uncle to Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis in August 2003.

William Reilly was only 57 years of age at the time of his passing. To me he was always "Uncle Billy", my mother's younger brother that I knew and loved my entire life. In 2001 my uncle was having problems with his legs, and found himself stumbling many times. My uncle saw many doctors about it, but not until early 2002 was his condition diagnosed as ALS. The diagnosis devastated my entire family. No one in either my mother's or my father's family had ever had any form of muscular dystrophy before.

When I was ten, I held a backyard carnival in support of muscular dystrophy. I raised over $50 dollars by setting up games and such and had all of my friends come there and compete. I was so proud when my parents sent in the check, and I won a Partridge Family album for my efforts.

My family has long supported the fight against muscular dystrophy, sending in money by way of Jerry Lewis' annual Labor day telethon. (I don't think I missed one of them in the last 30 years.) But now my family was touched by the disease. It came totally without warning, as it does with most people who are diagnosed with it.

Uncle Billy showed some remarkable courage in fighting ALS. He had his good days and bad days, but overall his attitude was always positive and he showed a remarkable strength. The times I spoke with him on the phone or saw him in the hospital, his first concern was always how the rest of my family was doing. He never wanted anyone to worry about him.

He never married, so his siblings took care of him. With a disease like ALS, the time each person has left can vary considerably. People have lingered in many cases for years. For my uncle, the time from his diagnosis until his death was just over eighteen months. In some ways, my family was fortunate. For all of us, losing him was a terrible, traumatic thing to deal with. Uncle Billy could have lingered for a much longer time. On the day before his death in August 2003, my mother and many of her brothers and sisters went to visit him in the hospital. He was so happy to see them all, and of course he asked about all of his nieces and nephews.

On the morning he was scheduled to enter a hospice, Uncle Billy passed away. He was at peace with his situation, and in his mind, no longer wished to be a burden anymore.

He died far too young, from a disease that has no known cure.

In a few circles, Curt Schilling was even criticized for putting those four capital letters on his shoe. But I was really proud to see him using a venue like the World Series to bring the fight against ALS to the public's attention.

And I'm sure Uncle Billy was proud too.

Mail Brooklyn Sox Fan!

"Hanging With The Holy Grail"

11/2004

There have been so many enduring moments from the Red Sox' Magic Carpet Ride this past October. David Ortiz' three game winning hits. Dave Roberts' stolen base in Game 4 of the ALCS. Curt Schilling pitching on sheer guts with a bloody sock in the ALCS and World Series. Jason Varitek kissing the ground after the championship win.

Moments that will live in all of our hearts forever.

And of course there have been the ones that occurred after getting The Trophy. Dave Roberts being carried on Mike Timlin's shoulders holding it up to the crowd at Busch Stadium. Players pouring champagne into it in the locker room. And one of my personal favorites: Tim Wakefield walking around the visitors locker room cradling The Trophy. I felt so good for him, and even had a tear in my eye, when I saw that.

(Wake got the last laugh. Current scoreboard of WS rings: Tim Wakefield 1, Aaron Boone 0.)

Early last week, I heard from a buddy of mine that the BLOHARDS, the New York City-based Red Sox supporters club, was sponsoring a viewing of The Trophy at the Yale Club in Midtown Manhattan. Yes, it would be making its first appearance behind enemy lines!!

It was a bit expensive to get in, and at first I was reluctant to part with the cash to go to it. But 24 hours later I realized that I might be missing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see it up close. So I changed my mind and got on the list to attend the event.

It was a crowded Grill Room that had the viewing. About 200 people came to it, and just about everyone was armed with cameras (including me). Eight other friends of mine from the Riviera Sports Bar also came down to see it. The press was there too, as I saw a camera crew from local NY TV station New York 1, as well as photographers and reporters from The New York Post and Sports Illustrated on hand.

Shortly after 5 PM the Trophy made its first appearance, as it was carried in by two gentlemen to a loud ovation. Jim Powers of the BLOHARDS and Dr. Charles Steinberg of the Red Sox made some short speeches, and then everyone began crowding around a table to get a picture with the Trophy. There was also an enlarged picture of the now-famous Time Magazine cover "The Joy Of Sox" right behind it.

My buddy of Ryan of Bornintoit.com took some great pictures, which you can find on the mainpage. After a wait of about 35 minutes, I was finally able to get to the Trophy. People took their time with it, kissing it and touching it. No one seemed to mind at all. (My friend Charlie even picked it up and kissed it. I don't think the Sox officials were too pleased about that, but he probably got a good picture!) The Trophy is absolutely gorgeous, a piece of gold hardware that every Red Sox fan has dreamed of getting their entire lives.

I was awed to be right next to it. My friends Matt F., Matt S. and Stew followed me up to the table it was on, and we gathered around and the photographers snapped away. (We asked some of the other Sox fans around us to take pictures and they happily obliged. I took pictures of at least half-dozen people I never met before.) Then the guy from the Post asked us if he could get a shot of us around it, and of course we said yes. (On Sunday the photo appeared on page 67 just above an article about the event written by Kevin Kernan.) Later we spoke to a reporter from Sports Illustrated about being New York City-based Red Sox fans, and how much it meant to us to see the Trophy live and up close.

The event lasted over two hours and everyone who was there got their photos and a few moments with The Holy Grail. Everyone there agreed it was worth every cent to get in and see the Trophy. We also got to see an actual champagne bottle taken from the celebration after the Sox beat Yankees in the ALCS and it was autographed by Johnny Damon. (The price for it was way beyond my budget!) Ryan and I both posed for photos with it.

The next day Matt F. posted some great photos from the event, including one of me solo with the Trophy. I saw it and I came to one immediate conclusion about it.

On the day I leave this world, I want that photo to be enlarged and shown at my wake.


Hanging With The Holy Grail"

There have been so many enduring moments from the Red Sox' Magic Carpet Ride this past October. David Ortiz' three game winning hits. Dave Roberts' stolen base in Game 4 of the ALCS. Curt Schilling pitching on sheer guts with a bloody sock in the ALCS and World Series. Jason Varitek kissing the ground after the championship win.

Moments that will live in all of our hearts forever.

And of course there have been the ones that occurred after getting The Trophy. Dave Roberts being carried on Mike Timlin's shoulders holding it up to the crowd at Busch Stadium. Players pouring champagne into it in the locker room. And one of my personal favorites: Tim Wakefield walking around the visitors locker room cradling The Trophy. I felt so good for him, and even had a tear in my eye, when I saw that.

(Wake got the last laugh. Current scoreboard of WS rings: Tim Wakefield 1, Aaron Boone 0.)

Early last week, I heard from a buddy of mine that the BLOHARDS, the New York City-based Red Sox supporters club, was sponsoring a viewing of The Trophy at the Yale Club in Midtown Manhattan. Yes, it would be making its first appearance behind enemy lines!!

It was a bit expensive to get in, and at first I was reluctant to part with the cash to go to it. But 24 hours later I realized that I might be missing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see it up close. So I changed my mind and got on the list to attend the event.

It was a crowded Grill Room that had the viewing. About 200 people came to it, and just about everyone was armed with cameras (including me). Eight other friends of mine from the Riviera Sports Bar also came down to see it. The press was there too, as I saw a camera crew from local NY TV station New York 1, as well as photographers and reporters from The New York Post and Sports Illustrated on hand.

Shortly after 5 PM the Trophy made its first appearance, as it was carried in by two gentlemen to a loud ovation. Jim Powers of the BLOHARDS and Dr. Charles Steinberg of the Red Sox made some short speeches, and then everyone began crowding around a table to get a picture with the Trophy. There was also an enlarged picture of the now-famous Time Magazine cover "The Joy Of Sox" right behind it.

My buddy of Ryan of Bornintoit.com took some great pictures, which you can find on the mainpage. After a wait of about 35 minutes, I was finally able to get to the Trophy. People took their time with it, kissing it and touching it. No one seemed to mind at all. (My friend Charlie even picked it up and kissed it. I don't think the Sox officials were too pleased about that, but he probably got a good picture!) The Trophy is absolutely gorgeous, a piece of gold hardware that every Red Sox fan has dreamed of getting their entire lives.

I was awed to be right next to it. My friends Matt F., Matt S. and Stew followed me up to the table it was on, and we gathered around and the photographers snapped away. (We asked some of the other Sox fans around us to take pictures and they happily obliged. I took pictures of at least half-dozen people I never met before.) Then the guy from the Post asked us if he could get a shot of us around it, and of course we said yes. (On Sunday the photo appeared on page 67 just above an article about the event written by Kevin Kernan.) Later we spoke to a reporter from Sports Illustrated about being New York City-based Red Sox fans, and how much it meant to us to see the Trophy live and up close.

The event lasted over two hours and everyone who was there got their photos and a few moments with The Holy Grail. Everyone there agreed it was worth every cent to get in and see the Trophy. We also got to see an actual champagne bottle taken from the celebration after the Sox beat Yankees in the ALCS and it was autographed by Johnny Damon. (The price for it was way beyond my budget!) Ryan and I both posed for photos with it.

The next day Matt F. posted some great photos from the event, including one of me solo with the Trophy. I saw it and I came to one immediate conclusion about it.

On the day I leave this world, I want that photo to be enlarged and shown at my wake.

"Aftermath in the Big Apple"

11-10-2004

As I was about to sit down and write another article in my series about the "Memories of 2004", I saw a letter in the New York Daily News earlier this week that set me off in another direction.

The Daily News has a section for reader letters called "Voice of the People". I usually read it for the "entertainment" value it has. Some of the dumbest people in the New York area send letters to it, and I'm sure the News prints certain letters just to drum up interest and controversy.

Since October 21st, you could call that section: "Yankee Fans in Denial". It's amazing some of the letters I have read there, and in the other New York tabloid paper, The New York Post. There has been the occasional Red Sox fan writing in, but the letters from Yankee fans have been simply unbelievable.

And a lot of fun to read.

This past Sunday, one Yankee fan actually called the Red Sox World Championship "a fluke". Right, buddy. Your "beloved" Yankees blow a 3-0 series lead and make history for all time with the worst choke in the history of sports, and the Red Sox sweep the St. Louis Cardinals ( the team with the best record in baseball) in the World Series, and its all a "fluke". Oh I see it now in this guy's mind: when the Yankees win, it's all skill and determination. When the Sox win, it's a freak thing.

Absolutely pathetic.

Other Yankee fans have written in to say how lucky the Red Sox were, how the Sox won't win again for another 86 years, and even one person said "the Yankees let the Red Sox win one". I really believe these fans need a session with Dr. Phil (just like that comedy bit he did on "The Tonight Show"!) The New York Daily News showed no class at all with their back cover of October 28th:

"Curse Takes a Year Off: See You in 2090!!"

But I guess the silliest and most pathetic thing of all I heard about was those Yankee fans who went to Babe Ruth's grave in the Bronx during the World Series to plead with the Babe to keep the so-called "curse" going. (What, by leaving Yankee helmets and empty beer bottles?) I guess they need something to hang on to, because next season things will clearly be different. I suppose they can't bear the thought of having to burn their "1918" and "Curse of the Bambino" paraphenalia.

Here is your "new reality": From now until all eternity, Yankee fans will have to live with the reality that their team is now the only baseball team to have blown a 3-0 postseason lead. And it was done by the team that they loved to torment all these years.

And add this to it: It took 101 years of postseason baseball for that to happen. And it may never be done again.

I took nonsense from a number of Yankee fans for the better part of 27 years. And you know what? It was worth everything for what happened in the Bronx on the evening of October 20, 2004. The Sox paid the Yankees back with interest that night. I knew that one day there would be a price to pay for all the decades of arrogant and obnoxious behavior of their fans.

But I never would have believed it would have unfolded the way it did.

But one thing I will say however, is that a few Yankee fans have showed me some class and grace about it. On the night of October 20 after the game, I went to a bar in the West Village and met up with a Yankee fan, among a sea of Sox fans. He had this look of utter shellshock on his face and could barely talk about it. But what he did was congratulate all of us on the win, saying how much the Sox really deserved it. A couple of days after the Series win, I was at The Chiller Theatre Expo in New Jersey when a guy with a Yankee hat came over to me (I was wearing my Sox hat) and patted me on the shoulder and offered his congratulations to me. And yes, I even did see a letter or two in the paper from Yankee fans offering the Sox fans congratulations on the win.

I'll never dump on guys like that. They showed me grace and class after such a heartbreaking loss. The Yankees should be proud to have fans like them.

I walk around the streets of New York these days proudly wearing my Red Sox hat. I've gotten many good wishes and even high fives from other Sox fans (and Mets fans too). I see the ones wearing Yankee hats and I have not had one negative thing said to me. I guess they are the smarter fans. And the ones who don't write letters to the editor.

It's now been two weeks since the Red Sox won the World Series. The letters to the newspapers have now started to abate somewhat.

It also makes me wonder if the mental health professionals in New York City are doing an unusually good business these days.

"Memories of 2004: February 14"
 

Hello Nation members! The long off season has just begun, and now its time to look back on the championship season of 2004, and those major days that brought us all to the Promised Land. There will be about one article a week, and the first one will be about February 14. It was originally seen as one of the darkest days in Red Sox history, but in looking back on it, Red Sox Nation would have the last laugh.

There's an old adage in baseball and in other sports that says, "Sometimes the best trades are the ones you don't make."

On February 14, 2004, there weren't too many people uttering those words.

Two months earlier the word had leaked out that the Red Sox were attempting to swing a trade with the Texas Rangers to acquire all-star shortstop Alex Rodriguez. The deal morphed into a three team trade with the Chicago White Sox and it involved Nomar Garciaparra going to Chicago and Manny Ramirez going to Texas and all-star Magglio Ordonez coming to Boston. As soon as the possible deal became news, the frenzy began.

But there were problems from the start. A-Rod desperately wanted out of last place Texas, and was amenable to restructuring his gargantuan contract. But the Players Association wouldn't approve it, as they felt it would set a bad precedent with such large contracts (as if anyone else in baseball had such a deal). The speculation went on for weeks, until finally a point of no return was reached just before Christmas, and the deal was declared officially dead.

Many Sox fans were upset the deal didn't go through, but I wasn't one of them. I was one who felt that giving up Nomar and Manny (as well as Scott Williamson and  pitching prospect Jon Lester) was too much for A-Rod and Ordonez. At the time I really felt that the Red Sox would re-sign Nomar.

And then in late January,Yankee third baseman Aaron Boone hurt his knee playing basketball and would be out for the entire 2004 season. In the first week in February the word got out the Yankees were talking trade with the Rangers about getting A-Rod, who said he would make the switch to third base if a deal was done. After a few days of high speculation, on February 14th, the Yankees announced a deal that sent infielder Alfonso Soriano and a prospect to Texas for Rodriguez.

The reaction in New York was simply unbelievable.

The New York papers and sports talk show hosts acted like the Yankees had screwed over the Red Sox again. One paper called it "the best trade since the Yankees got Babe Ruth", another said the "Aaron Boone got the Red Sox again" since his injury led to the trade. "Red Sox Hearts Broken On Valentine's Day" said another. Naturally ESPN had to show the usual montage of all the times the Yankees stuck it to the Sox, and added this to it. The attitude that permeated the media was that the Yankees had put together their best team since the 1927 club, with one outlet calling them "Murderers Row II" and the another calling the Yankees "A Dream Team" that would "probably score over 1000 runs". And, "Why bother playing the season, just give the Yankees the trophy now."

The whole thing made me sick to my stomach.

Many Red Sox fans were bemoaning the deal and the fate that seems to have stepped in and "given" the Yankees A-Rod. I knew this was a good deal for the Yankees, but in no way was I giving the Yankees the 2004 World Series championship. To my many friends in Red Sox Nation I reminded them of three things:

1. Alex Rodriguez can't pitch.
2. They replaced one great hitter with another.
3. Enrique Wilson is still batting ninth, playing second instead of third base.

The New York press and Yankee fans really dumped on Alfonso Soriano after the deal. All they could talk about was how he struck out too much, made too many errors at second, and had a lousy 2003 postseason. This was a guy they were touting as the second coming of Hank Aaron just a year earlier. They also seemed to forget that Soriano had better offensive numbers on the road than A-Rod did over the past two seasons (more homers, doubles and better batting average). There was no doubt they were getting one of the best players of this generation, but they were also giving up one of the brightest young hitters in baseball in Soriano.

I just didn't see how they were "swindling" the Red Sox or the Texas Rangers for that matter. The Yankees were definitely a better offensive team with A-Rod and the newly signed free agent Gary Sheffield. But they also had lost Soriano, Boone and had put Enrique Wilson (and later Miguel Cairo) in the everyday lineup.

I still thought the Red Sox had from top to bottom a better lineup. And the additions of Curt Schilling and Keith Foulke made the Red Sox a superior pitching team to the Yankees in my mind. Besides, you don't win any championships in the month of February. Too much can happen during a season that can ultimately decide a champion.

So, February 14, 2004 wasn't one of the better days of my life. But the A-Rod trade to the Yankees definitely benefitted the Red Sox. It kept Manny Ramirez on the team, and he had an MVP-caliber year and won the MVP of the 2004 World Series. It kept Nomar Garciaparra on the Sox until the blockbuster trade of July 31 that brought Orlando Cabrera and Doug Mientkiewicz to Boston, and that solidified a very shaky infield defense. (Magglio Ordonez also suffered a season-ending injury in the summer. Would that have happened if he was in Boston? Who knows.) The deal also made the Texas Rangers a better team ("The Curse of A-Rod"??) and they were in the pennant race until the last week of the season.

After the World Series, Curt Schilling said that the Red Sox could not have won the Series if Rodriguez was playing shortstop for the Sox. He wouldn't have fit in on club filled with "idiots" and with the concept of playing as a team. 

An arguable point to be sure. But we as Sox fans still have to be thankful for "trade that never happened".

Of course, who could forget the dustup on July 24th between the Red Sox and Yankees that is generally credited for turning the Sox season around.

Many thanks to Alex Rodriguez, who, in a Yankee uniform, couldn't keep his big mouth shut while walking down to first base.
 

"Two Moronic Nitwits"

10/29/2004

My friends in Red Sox Nation, I hope you will indulge me in the following. I know many of you in New England have never heard of them, but we have an afternoon drive team on the New York sports station WFAN named "Mike and the Mad Dog". They have gained a large following here, and are also simulcast on the YES Network. Over the last few days they have said a few things that really angered me about the Red Sox. I decided to wait until the World Series victory ended before I retaliated.

A little background first. Mike is Mike Francesa, a diehard Yankee fan and pal of Bill Parcells who usually takes much pleasure in bashing the Sox. He is generally a pompous windbag who believes everything he says is the gospel truth. Mad Dog is Chris Russo, a San Francisco Giants fan who can't help but put his foot in his mouth just about once a show. He has this scratchy voice that sounds like sandpaper and at times he can be almost incoherent. His painful lack of sports knowledge comes across way too often for someone hosting a sports talk show. The only reason he has a show in the first place is that he acts so outrageous that his bosses believe he actually brings listeners to sports radio. His only redeeming feature is that he is huge Yankee hater.

Mike and the Mad Dog have been teamed in the 1-6:30 PM slot on WFAN since 1989. Don Imus, the morning WFAN host, has the perfect nickname for the two of them: "Fatso and Fruit Loops".

Throughout the years I have not been a loyal listener of their show. I could only take them in very limited quantities. But this past Monday, they really sent me into a rage. The subject of the World Series and the Red Sox 2-0 lead was the number one topic. Curt Schilling and his ankle tendon was brought up, and Francesa actually had the colossal gall to suggest that Schilling might actually be exaggerating, if not outright faking the injury. He had some stupid idea it would give the Red Sox some kind of competitive advantage over the Cardinals. He sounded very serious in his suggestion.

But Russo went one better than Francesa. He was annoyed that Schilling had put "K ALS" ("strike out Lou Gehrig's Disease") on his shoe, in response to the cameras always showing closeups of his bloody sock.(Is it fake blood Fatso?) Russo basically said that he didn't want to see or hear about ALS or about Curt being a Christian. I found his attitude to be quite appalling.

I applaud Curt's bringing attention to the fight against ALS. My uncle died at the age of 57 last year after a yearlong battle with ALS. Schilling has dedicated so much of his free time and energy to the fight against ALS. His idol is Lou Gehrig, and he even named one of his sons Gehrig to honor him. And if Schilling wants to talk about how God gave him the strength to compete, I have no problem with that either. Last time I looked Russo, this is a free country.

Then they really riled me even more on Wednesday. They blasted the Fox Network for showing Red Sox fans in a bar in New York City watching Game 4. ("Why are they showing Red Sox fans celebrating in New York?") That of course was the Riviera, where I was. They wondered out loud why they weren't showing a bar in Boston during the coverage. If they bothered to pay attention, they would have noticed that they did show one, not far from Fenway Park (as well as one in Los Angeles).

These two knuckleheads JUST DON'T GET IT!! Red Sox Nation is not just limited to Boston or New England. Red Sox Nation is national as well as international. (250 Sox fans celebrated the championship in the Sports Cafe in London!) There were HUNDREDS of Sox fans inside and outside of the Riviera when the Sox won the World Series. It was especially sweet that Fox showed loyal Nation members like myself partying and having a great time in enemy territory.

I said it before and I'll say it again. Red Sox Nation is a brotherhood, and outsiders and especially Yankee fans will NEVER understand that.

I've basically given up listening to the incoherent ramblings of Mike and the Mad Dog. I know the Sox victory is killing Yankee fans like Francesa. And I couldn't be any happier.

So, Nation members, I thank you for your indulgence.

Please go back to celebrating our World Championship.
 

"Number Six"
 

10/28/2004

On the night of October 27, 1985, I was on a plane flying from New York City to London, to visit some friends in England. I had just watched in the airport bar the Kansas City Royals demolish the St. Louis Cardinals in the seventh game of the World Series. Shortly into the flight, the pilot announced that we were about to fly over the city of Boston, Massachusetts. I looked out the window of the lights of the city, and I remember telling the man next to me that "my favorite baseball team plays in that city". I also thought of the Royals just winning a title, and I wondered when I would ever see the Red Sox win one.

Nineteen years later to the day, that dream finally became a reality.

And ironically enough, against the St. Louis Cardinals.

At 11:39 PM last night, something everyone one of us dreamed about for years and years (and some for decades and decades) finally came true. Edgar Renteria's comebacker to Keith Foulke concluded 86 years of heartache and disappointment. I witnessed it all from my usual watering hole, The Riviera in Greenwich Village. The place was jammed two hours in advance of game time, and I was nervous all day. Leading 3-0 was great (and better than leading 2-1) but a loss on this night would lead to the specualtion of the Cardinals pulling a 3-0 comeback like the Sox did to the Yankees. I just wanted the World Series to end in four games.

The bar was buzzing all evening long. The Fox Network put Kenny Albert and camera crew in the place for the pregame opening. ( A number of people told me after the game they saw me on camera twice.) The talk in the bar was the confidence that the series would end with a Sox sweep. I just didn't want this to go on the next night, or Heaven forbid, another night as well.

I was tired and worn out. All the late nights and exciting, long baseball games was taking a toll on my body.

Johnny Damon's leadoff home run got the bar in a great mood from the start. Cardinals pitcher Jason Marquis (who's married to my uncle's cousin) looked shaky from the beginning, so I had a good feeling about things. Every Cardinal out was greated with applause and high fives. A couple of guys next to me even began counting the outs left.

Derek Lowe looked tremendous from the outset. He was getting ground outs with his sinker, and seemed to pick up from where he left off in Game 7 in the ALCS. Trot Nixon's bases loaded double really got the place roaring, but I couldn't help but feel the Sox needed to get more.

My worries proved groundless. Lowe pitched the game of his life, again. Three hits and no runs in seven innings. The Cardinals mounted almost no threats against him. The bullpen was sharp, as they had been the entire series. As Keith Foulke entered the ninth, I said a few prayers. When Albert Pujols singled up the middle to start the inning, I paced a bit and the worries really kicked in. But Foulke would not fool around here, getting Scott Rolen (0 for 15 in the series) to fly out to right and struck out Jim Edmonds. Now the bar was getting ready to explode. As soon as Foulke grabbed the ball hit back to him and flipped to Doug Mientkiewicz, years and years of frustration came barrelling out of the bar patrons in the form of delerium and happiness. I put my arms straight up in the air and yelled "Champions!" over and over again. People were jumping up and down, hugging and high fiving. I hugged at least a dozen people I never met before. Someone grabbed a bottle of champagne and popped it open and poured some of it on me. This celebrating went on for about ten minutes, just like when the Sox won the AL pennant.

World Series Championship Number Six had just arrived.

It was one of the most thrilling moments of my life.

The Red Sox made history with this title. They won the last eight games in a row they played, a new postseason record. Curt Schilling, Pedro Martinez and Derek Lowe did not allow an earned run in their starts. They swept a Cardinals team who had the best record in the majors this year, and made it look so easy. The Cardinals never had a lead in the entire four games. This was without question one of the most dominant postseasons for any team in history. And the Sox did it.

The celebration went on inside and outside the Riviera. A few hundred fans gathered on the corner of West 4th Street and 7th Avenue South to chant and let the world know who the new Champions of the World were. They chanted for Theo Epstein, Terry Francona, and even for Dr. Bill Morgan (who worked on Curt Schilling's ankle). They naturally chants unprintable things about A-Rod and Derek Jeter. Out there, in the middle of New York City, it felt like we had conquered the city and it belonged to us. In the midst of all the celebrating, we saw a guy in a Yankees jacket who said, "The Yankees suck! I'm with you guys now!!" I don't know if he was truly converted or was just trying to saving his hide.

Many of us went off to another bar in the Village and continued celebrating until about 4 AM. Throughout the night I thought of many things after the dream of seeing the Sox win a championship finally happened. I thought about my parents, who saw the Brooklyn Dodgers finally win it all in 1955. I thought about seeing the Mets win the Series in 1969 and the joy it brought to me and so many others. I also thought of all those great Red Sox players who never got a chance to get a ring in Boston. The list is nearly endless: Ted Williams, Johnny Pesky, Dom DiMaggio, Bobby Doerr, Carl Yastrzemski, Carlton Fisk, Dwight Evans, Jim Rice, Bill Buckner, and so many more.

But those people I am happiest for are those people who've supported the Sox for far longer than I have who can now say that they've seen them win it all. For those grandfathers and grandmothers who've been with the Sox all their lives, I hope they are enjoying it the most.

Yesterday I thought of an elderly lady in her mid-70s that I met back in 1999 after the ALCS game at Fenway I went to ("The Clemens Massacre"). She was wearing a Red Sox shirt and I wore a team jersey. She looked at me and asked if I was at the game, because she had been there too. With a broad, beaming smile, she looked at me and said, "Wasn't that wonderful?"

I hope with all of my heart that that nice lady witnessed what happened in St. Louis yesterday.

As you all are enjoying the celebrations over this fall and winter, please keep this in mind. If any Yankee fan gets wise with you, quote them this:

Championship scoreboard so far for the 21st Century:
Red Sox 1, Yankees 0.

Enjoy this victory everyone.
It will last a lifetime.
 

"NINE DOWN & TWO TO GO"

10.25.2004

A dear friend of mine, who unfortunately is no longer with us, once wrote to another friend that she was going to a concert that she couldn't miss, and she explained why, in one sentence.

"Because Eric Clapton is God", she wrote.

As of October 24, 2004, I believe that position has a new occupant: Curt Schilling.

Curt's last two performances for the Sox will rank as the stuff of legend, no matter how the World Series turns out. Just when you think he couldn't top his Game 6 masterwork against the Yankees, he goes a step beyond that on Sunday night. Just moments before the game was about to begin, Tom Caron on the Red Sox pregame show on NESN said that this might be Schilling's last game of the year because of the problems he was having with the ankle tendon. That was not exactly what I wanted to hear before a huge World Series game. Despite that, I still had the feeling Schill would come up big time.

And he sure did. And after the game we found out just how much discomfort he was in when he got up on Sunday morning. He said he was certain he would not be able to pitch because just walking from his kitchen to his car took a great deal of effort. Then when he got to Fenway, the problem was discovered that one of the sutures was rubbing against the tendon, and was removed. Schilling then discovered the pain was just about alieviated, and could make the scheduled start.

He also credited the fans in Medford, the area he lives in, for all the encouragement they gave him in putting up signs all over the place. Never, ever doubt the faith and determination of Red Sox Nation, wherever they may be!!

Allright, the Sox are up 2-0. A fabulous start, just exactly where we want to be at this juncture. The Red Sox win two games despite making four errors in each game, the first team ever to do that. (Eight errors in two games, and two wins. I still can't believe that!) Mark Bellhorn continues his clutch hitting that began in Game 6 of the ALCS. David Ortiz sent a loud message by blasting a three run homer in his first ever World Series at bat. Manny Ramirez drove in two runs and provided some light comedy (but not at the time) with totally butchering a flyball in the eighth of Game 1. (I'm just thankful he wasn't hurt!)

But of course, don't underestimate these St. Louis Cardinals. They didn't win 105 games by accident. The middle of their order is the most dangerous one in all of baseball. The Sox pitching is successfully shutting down the 2-3-4-5 danger zone (except for Larry Walker in Game 1) and that's why they are up 2-0. For the Cardinals, they have to get much better starts from their Game 3 and 4 starters (Jeff Suppan and Jason Marquis) than they did from Games 1 and 2 or it will be lights out. Pitching may very well be the deciding factor in the rest of the World Series. The Cardinals clearly miss Chris Carpenter and Steve Kline, who are out of the series with injuries.

Pedro Martinez and Derek Lowe will start the next two games for the Sox. They will be rested, and especially Lowe, on an incredible high. D-Lowe got just about the biggest ovation of any Sox player in the pregame introductions before Game 1. The bullpen continues to give the Sox tremendous work, especially Keith Foulke. He has yet to surrender an earned run in the postseason. Next to Curt Schilling, he continues to be the most valuable pickup the Sox made after the 2003 ALCS loss.

Well, fellow Nation members, there are now nine wins in the bank as I write this. The Promised Land is coming into view. Please keep in mind there's still a long way to go, and lot of work still to be done. I have never been prouder to be a Red Sox fan than I am right now. The courage, guts and determination of the Olde Towne Team is simply beyond anything we could have imagined.

If Curt Schilling ever decides to run for God, he's got my vote.

ON TO THE WORLD SERIES

10.21.2004

Shortly after 11:50 PM on Wednesday night, I was nervous. Plenty nervous. My palms were sweating, and my heart was beginning to beat faster. I felt like I had been running in a marathon. I had my St. Therese medal in my back pocket and said a silent prayer to her. My emotions started to build up inside of me, and a tear even came to my eye.

Just three outs to go, and the Boston Red Sox would be champions of the American League.

I was with about 150 people in the Riviera Sports Bar in Greenwich Village and the mood was still a bit on the nervous side. Most of my friends were like me, pacing around and waiting for the bottom of ninth to start. The Red Sox were up by seven runs, but nobody was ready to call them AL Champs just yet. The last out has to be made before anyone could celebrate.

Throughout the game, the feeling I had was the Red Sox had to score early and often. And boy, did they do just that! David Ortiz' first inning home run set the bar into a frenzy. An early lead for Derek Lowe got everyone into a good mood. And Johnny Damon's grand slam got the bar going even louder, and after Ortiz' shot I didn't think that could be possible. 6-0 in the second. My thoughts after he hit was, "Why couldn't it be the eighth inning right now?"

Despite the big early lead, I was really nervous. I knew this Yankees team could score runs in bunches, and had set a record for comebacks this year. But Derek Lowe was pitching the game of his life. He looked even better than the no-hitter he pitched back in 2002 (which I saw live at Fenway). All he allowed was an RBI single to Derek Jeter in the third.

Many people in the bar questioned the move to bring Pedro Martinez into the game in the seventh. I'm sure there was a little "bravado" in making the move, but I'm also sure all Terry Francona wanted was the one inning from him. When I heard the inane "Who's Your Daddy?" chant go up as the Yankees were down by seven, two words came to my mind: "desperate" and "pathetic". The Yankees scored two runs off him, and the nerves really began to get worse. Terrible flashbacks from a time last October started buzzing in my head.

But Mark Bellhorn's home run leading off the eighth put a capper on the night. The bar seemed to breathe a bit easier with the insurance run. Mike Timlin's perfect eighth inning set the stage for an eagerly awaited celebration.

I was practically shouting at just about every pitch. My voice was just about gone, as it was at this time last year. At one minute past midnight, on what was now October 21, 2004, Ruben Sierra grounded out to Pokey Reese at second base, and what was practically unthinkable last Sunday night was now a golden reality.

The Red Sox were going to the World Series for the first time since 1986.

The celebration in the Riv was incredibly wild, even wilder than the previous celebrations. High-fives, hugging, jumping into each other's arms, and just a scene of pure and unbridaled joy. A friend of mine was getting all of it on his video camera, and I had a chance to see some of it later. We were also joined by a writer from the New York Daily News named Pete Donohue, who was writing about the Riv, and he turned out to be a Sox fan as well. A couple of news crews from some local stations were there too, and a large crowd of Sox fans gathered on 7th Avenue South outside the Riv to celebrate as well.

The Boston Red Sox pulled off the greatest postseason comeback in the history of American sports.

The New York Yankees pulled off the greatest postseason choke job in the history of American sports.

Those facts will take time to sink in.

I've been a Red Sox for 27 years, and I've taken it from Yankee fans for years and years. The smugness and arrogance of many of their fans makes it real easy for me to enjoy this to no end. What makes this greatest of victories that much more sweeter is that the Sox won the last two games in Yankee Stadium, and they celebrated their pennant for the whole world to see on the Yankees' sacred home turf. (The photo of Doug Mientkiewicz shooting champagne to the Sox fans in the stands will stay with me forever.)

Bucky Dent. Aaron Boone. 1949. 1978. 1999. 2003.

As far as I am concerned, that crap is all said and done with.

We've got them fellow Sox fans! The New York Yankees have 26 world championships on their resume, but now they all have "the greatest postseason collapse in baseball history" on it as well. And it will be on there FOREVER.

They will never, ever live this down. The fans at Fenway will see to that.

I read in today's New York Daily News an article by one of their dubious writers (who I won't name as I won't give him the satisfaction) who actually wrote, " The Red Sox will lose the World Series again, and then the Creatures will jeer them to death next season with fresh chants..."

This clown just doesn't get it. He's like many Yankee fans. THEY JUST DON'T GET IT!! This alleged, so-called "Curse of the Bambino" is now as dead as the Babe is. If the Sox don't take the Series, those Bronx Boneheads will try to keep this so-called curse alive. As Sox fans, all we have to do is look them in the eye and utter this simple phrase: "2004". Or as the fans in Fenway will no doubtedly say in their chants next season at the Yankees: "chokers".

The most expensive team in baseball history. And the biggest chokers in baseball history.

Four more wins to make more baseball history. Savor and enjoy last night's victory. The tables have been turned.

October 20, 2004. The greatest night in Red Sox history.
So far.

"SPIRIT HEART & GUTS"

10.20.2004

Last Saturday night I left the Riviera Cafe and Sports Bar in a terribly disconsolate state. I had witnessed one of the worst losses in Red Sox history. I stayed for the entire game, even after many of the patrons had long since given up hope and departed.

Down 0-3. I couldn't believe it. A postseason filled with so much hope seemed to be going down the drain once again. Midway through Game 3, I was so angry I wanted to throw something. Then the depression started to seep in. They were losing another postseason series to the Yankees, and this time in humiliating fashion.

Going home on the subway, I zipped up my jacket to hide my Red Sox jersey. At that time I was not terribly proud to be wearing it.

Boy, what a difference 72 hours can make.

Three thrilling victories. One in the 12th inning on a David Ortiz home run. One on a single in the 14th inning by the very same Big Papi. An enormous Game 6 victory pitched by Curt Schilling, with an ankle tendon being kept together mostly by the prayers and hopes of the New England faithful.

I've been a part of a few wild celebrations in the Riviera after these wins. My body aches and my voice is just about gone. And I couldn't be any happier.

I have been a Red Sox fan for 27 years. They have put me through all kinds of hell. But at this moment, I have never been prouder of this team.

The spirit, the heart, and the guts that this team has shown since Sunday night is something so unbelievable that adjectives really fail to quite describe what they have accomplished over the last three games. On Sunday morning, I thought all three of those qualities were long gone.

Once again, the Boston Red Sox have proved me wrong.

Right after Game 6, Theo Epstein compared Curt Schilling's performance to Willis Reed's inspiring and legendary return in Game 7 to the lead the Knicks to the NBA title in 1970. Schilling performance was nothing short of astounding. He showed the heart of a lion. As I watched him pitch, I had the feeling he was pitching in pain, but he just went out there and sucked up and put the Red Sox in the history books. After the TV cameras showed Schill's right sock with blood on it, a guy in the Riviera called him "Roy Hobbs", a reference to Robert Redford in "The Natural".

No matter what happens in Game 7, Curt Schilling is an inspiration, and a champion.

And no matter what happens in Game 7, the Boston Red Sox are champions. The know-nothings can shoot their mouths off about media-created curses and all that palaver, but we can all take pride in a team that never quits, that never throws in the towel. They've made baseball history in being the first team to come from 3-0 in a postseason series to even it and send it to a Game 7. And the best part about it? They did to the Yankees.

Back on Saturday night, as everyone was gloomy in the Riv and staring down the possibility of a sweep, there was one friend of mine who never lost faith. Matt kept telling me, and anyone else who would listen, that the Red Sox could go on a winning streak and come back and win this series. I told him I admired his optimism but I also told him that no team had ever made it to Game 7, let alone come back to win a series, after being down 0-3. Everyone thought he was crazy. Including me.

No one thinks Matt's crazy anymore.
Go Sox.

KEEP THE FAITH!
 

We're in trouble now.

Before the ALCS began, I thought to myself that to come back to Fenway Park 1-1 would but the Red Sox in a good position to win the series. Now at 0-2, they have put themselves in a hole the size of the Grand Canyon. If they are to win this series, it won't be at home in Boston, but back in New York next week.

So, roll out the cliche of your choice now: "When the going gets tough, the tough get going","It's always darkest before the dawn", "It ain't over 'til its over" or "One game at a time".

I keep thinking to myself that line on the billboard across from Fenway Park: "Keep the Faith".

This series seemed to hold such promise. Most so-called "pundits" were picking the Sox to win this series. When was the last time they were favored to win an ALCS? (The only one I can think of is 1986.)  Most Sox fans were like me, that one win in the first two games in New York seemed almost a forgone conclusion. And it would probably come from Curt Schilling.

I feel really badly for Schill. He's got that burning desire to win, and he pitched through the season with a bum right ankle and still managed to win 21 games. Game 1 seemed like his stage, but from the start you could see he was in trouble. I noticed that he twice was tying his shoe lace on his right shoe. I smelled the ankle problem right there, and the two runs he gave up in the first inning seemed to forecast a disaster was in the offing.  The final line told the story: six earned runs in three innings. He had trouble reaching 90 MPH on the radar gun, and that is very unlike Schilling. He's a classic power pitcher in that his lower body provides his strength.

Well, what do the Red Sox do about Curt now? They say if they can "stabilize" his right ankle, he can go in Game 5. Right now my feelings are that the decision should be left up to Curt. If he feels he can pitch in Game 5, give him the ball. I know some people feel that if he goes then and tries too hard, he could pull a "Dizzy Dean", in that he might over compensate for his injury and hurt his arm, as Dizzy Dean did in 1937. If he can pitch, let him. If he feels he can't, give Derek Lowe the ball.

Pedro Martinez pitched well in Game 2, and gave the Red Sox the chance to win. Unfortunately the offense, as in Game 1, didn't show up until the seventh inning. All credit has to go to Yankees starters Mike Mussina and Jon Lieber. They both pitched extraordinarily well, better then anyone could have hoped. But in Game 2, the Red Sox seemed very overanxious, and made it easy for Lieber. They swung at way too many first and second pitches, and didn't make Lieber work. By the end of the fifth, he had thrown only 43 pitches. One of the Sox' trademarks over the last two years has been wearing down the best pitchers by making them work. They must return to that philosphy if they are to get back into this series.

Despite the loss in Game 1, I left with a good feeling about Game 2. The Red Sox showed a heart and guts coming back from an 8-0 hole to score seven runs and make it a game again. It was a loss but it didn't feel like a loss. I really thought the carryover would propel the Sox to even the series.

So now they are in an 0-2 hole. Of course the obnoxious media here in New York City are saying this series is over, and that the Red Sox have no chance now. Don't put the Sox into the ground just yet. The Sox head home to Fenway and the Nation will be there to support them as usual. They will be facing Kevin Brown and Javier Vazquez in the next two games, and they have hit them both hard this year. The Sox will counter with Bronson Arroyo and Tim Wakefield. Arroyo is just coming off that terrific Game 3 ALDS start, and Wakefield has pitched well against the Yankees his whole career.

But it is imperative that the vaunted Red Sox offense show up before the seventh inning. Johnny Damon and Manny Ramirez are in terrible funks in this series, and have to bust out. So far the Sox have played well in the field, and Terry Francona has managed the series fine.

But right now I feel the Red Sox will live or die in this series based on their offense. If they hit and win the next two games, a very tough decision will be forthcoming.

Curt Schilling or Derek Lowe in Game 5?

Don't throw in any towels yet, fellow Red Sox Nation members. This series is far from done. The Sox have faced plenty of adversity in the 2004 season, and they've found ways to bounce back. Forget about history, forget about media-invented so-called curses, forget about "Yankee invincibility". The Red Sox seem to be the underdog now, and that status may propel them right back into it.

Stay with our boys.
Keep the Faith.
A few prayers wouldn't hurt either.

"The Agony or The Ecstasy"

OK, fellow Red Sox Nation members. You wanted a rematch with the Evil Empire, you got it!

In the week leading up to the start of the ALCS, I talked to many Nation members and wanted to see how they felt about who they'd rather see the Red Sox play in the ALCS. Most of them said they wanted the Yankees, mostly for revenge from last year, and also because it would be so much sweeter to reach the World Series having put the Yankees away. I certainly understand their feelings and I really do agree with them on both counts.

But I just wanted to see the Yankees gone from the playoffs as early as possible. It would have done my heart good to see them lose to the Twins in the ALDS (and watch Hurricane George hit). But because of a shaky bullpen, the Twins let the Yankees off the deck and they paid the price for it.

Well, the best rivalry in American sports gets yet another chapter written to it. Last year I actually read from some idiot New York sportswriter (we have a LOT of them in this city) that the Red Sox-Yankees is not a rivalry because the Red Sox haven't won a championship since 1918, while the Yankees have won a few. (What is it, 50? It no longer matters.) Under that screwball logic, I guess the Giants-Dodgers isn't one because the Giants haven't won a title since 1954, and the Cubs-Cardinals isn't one because the Cubs have gone 10 years longer than the Red Sox since their last title. Unbelievable. (Over this winter, I will be writing a column about the mental midgets who write sports columns in New York City.)

I believe the pressure is clearly on the shoulders of the Red Sox. For one of the first times in recent years, the Red Sox are actually a favorite to win a postseason series. The Sox have the edge in pitching, with a stud starter in Curt Schilling to complement Pedro Martinez. They also have something going for them they did not have in the last 2 league championship series they were involved in. This time the Red Sox are able to set up their rotation they way they want to. In 1999 and 2003, Pedro Martinez had to close out the ALDS, so was unable to start until ALCS Game 3. I also love Bronson Arroyo as the number 3 starter. He pitched a phenomenal game in the ALDS, and has the right mental toughness to face the Yankees in this series. (Right, A-Rod?)

The Red Sox also now have a more reliable bullpen than 2003, with Keith Foulke as a closer that Terry Francona will not hesitate to go to. (P.S. Don't worry about Curt Schilling's ankle. Unless it's ready to fall off, he'll take the ball at least twice in this series.)

The better defense and deeper bench than last year in my view makes the Red Sox even tougher to beat. The Sox are also clearly motivated by last year's loss and are a loose bunch that just loves to play baseball. (I won't be making any predictions about this series. Just hoping for the best.)

But of course, the Yankees didn't win 101 games by accident. They led the AL in home runs, and have a core group that's played in high pressure, big games before. They can score runs, but they can also give up runs too. Their starting pitching has been very suspect coming down the home stretch. They don't have Clemens, Wells or Pettitte any more. If they win this series it will be because they did it with pitching. If the Red Sox hit them early and often, they are in some serious trouble.

No matter how this series turns out, the end of it will either be "The Agony or the Ecstasy". However, both emotions were on full view last Friday. I watched Game 3 of the ALDS with 150 other loyal Sox fans at the Riviera in Manhattan. As the Sox appeared to be coasting to a series win, Vladimir Guerrero hit a game tying grand slam, and the worst appeared to be happening. (Of course, NOTHING easy ever comes with this team.)  But the 10th inning slam by David Ortiz sent the bar into a frenzy unlike a