Free Daniel Nava! (Photo by Kelly O’Connor/sittingstill and used with permission)
Random thoughts.
(I saw most of the game but faded in and out during some of it due to an allergic reaction and a bit of Benadryl so these aren’t as comprehensive as they could be!)
Fox spent an awful lot of time talking to Michael Wacha’s parents and Chris Carpenter and when they finally got a person related to the Red Sox on the air (Jake Peavy) they asked him three, maybe four questions. I’d like to think that’s because Peavy told them before the interview that he’d rather be watching the game so they purposely made it short. But, really, I think it’s because they’re trying to create this narrative and it seems to be, after a lot of Red Sox over Cardinals talk in game one, that we should learn to love the Cardinals because Fox wants this series to go seven games. (Also, we’re dealing with two announcers who pretty much have Cardinal red blood flowing through their veins, regardless of Joe Buck claiming he doesn’t root for any particular team. If my father was Jack Buck, I’d be an annoying Cardinals homer too.)
While I understand people being frustrated at Stephen Drew and his anemic postseason at-bats, I marvel at the man’s defensive prowess and am very happy to have him in the field for these games. There, I said it.
Going into this series I was hoping for a sweep and expecting them to have to play six games. So if we have to suffer through a loss or two with the final outcome being the Boston Red Sox win the 2013 World Series in Fenway Park…well, I can deal with that.
I will say that I surprised myself by having a few moments last night of utter frustration where I actually yelled at the television. Lately the TV yelling has been solely for the purposes of telling Joe Buck and/or Tim McCarver to shut up. But last night I couldn’t help myself because I hate errors. I hate them. Less so in real life than in baseball because I easily forgive mistakes in real life. In baseball they make me a bit stabby. So last night was a little on the painful side. But here’s to a day off and a relaxing flight to St. Louis for the team.
On Saturday night I will be out at a family gathering. I’m thrilled to be going – it feels like my family has many more sad reasons than good ones to get together lately and this one is a happy one so it’s worth not being able to see most if not all of game three. (Having written that, yes my iPad will be with me and yes I will be periodically checking in to MLB At-Bat.)
I do not like the way Erin Andrews does her job. Maybe it isn’t Erin Andrews and maybe it’s the nature of the position she holds but when you can’t change your line of questioning based on how the game is going that’s a problem for me. Wacha was pretty good last night, absolutely, but he showed himself to be touchable. The guy who pitched ridiculously good and saved the game for the Cardinals was Trevor Rosenthal. So when it was time to interview him after the game Andrews decides to keep with the storyline of the evening and ask him about Wacha before anything else. I really don’t understand the idea of asking one player about another player until you’ve at least asked him a few questions about HIS playing first. (Fox is notorious for this. It’s always about the flavor of the moment and not about what has actually happened in the game.)
Since Jonny Gomes now has played in a playoff game this year where the Red Sox lost, does that mean Daniel Nava will be allowed to start game 3? Can we get a petition started and send it to John Farrell? (I love ya, Jonny, but you’re killing me…)
I’ve said this for years* and it’s still true: After 2004 and then 2007, I have a very difficult time getting upset over baseball-related things like losing one game…even if it is in the World Series.
All in all, I hate to see the Red Sox lose and this, at the very least, annoyed me but it hasn’t disheartened me. On the way into work this morning my Red Sox hoodie triggered a bus-wide discussion of last night’s game and the entire season, really, with the bottom line seeming to be for most that right now we’re, as they say, playing with the house’s money and while it stinks to watch your team lose, seeing them come as far as they have has been reward enough for sticking with them through September 2011 and all of 2012…so whatever else we get from here on out is pretty much gravy.
*The one sure way to get me out of any kind of post-losing funk is for me to sit back and realize that I can begin a sentence with “I’ve said this for years…” in regard to talking about the last time the Red Sox won the World Series. I need to keep remembering how much it means to me that my father, who will turn 79 during the 2014 season, lived 69 years before seeing his favorite team win it all…and now he’s seen them win it twice with a good chance of seeing them do it a third time. (I should mention that my mother waited just under 58 years and is just as passionate about them as he is!) Remembering the looks on both of their faces on October 27, 2004 brings both smiles and tears…and I’m eternally optimistic that we’ll be celebrating this team this October as well.
I’m right there with you re the playing with the house money thing. If you’d told any Red Sox fan in January that we’d be watching our team play in the 2013 World Series, well… after laughing our @sses off at the sheer audacity and improbability of the idea, of course, we’d have been absolutely delighted to see that happen after everything that had transpired since September 2011.
As trite as it sounds, I had a bit of an epiphany during the 7th inning last night. We’d just watched the errors cost the team the lead, and I was sitting there disappointed, discouraged, and contemplating what kind of alcohol would best get me through the rest of the game. And then, those marathon survivors walked onto the field, most of them missing a limb, all of them smiling from ear to ear. As I said to a friend I was IMing with, talk about your instant perspective.
I’ve also been thinking a lot about my grandfather, who was not only a lifelong Red Sox fan but was scouted by the team in his youth (unfortunately, his legs were badly injured on Iwo Jima, ending that particular dream). He died in June 2004, making what happened that October one of the most bittersweet moments of my life. But I know he’d have been delighted that I got to see them win it all once in my lifetime, much less twice; the thought that they’d compete for a three WS titles in a 10-year span was likely beyond even his wildest imaginings. I’m not sure how he’d have felt about the beards (he was a Marine, so I suspect he wouldn’t have been a huge fan of so much scruffiness), but I know he would have loved the way they play the game.
Do I want to see them win it all? Hell yes. No question. Will I be extremely bummed out if they don’t? Probably. But regardless, I’m going to do my best to keep in mind one thing: that being here, in this place, at this time, watching these guys compete in the World Series? It’s a gift. One I hope I don’t take for granted anymore.
“As trite as it sounds, I had a bit of an epiphany during the 7th inning last night. We’d just watched the errors cost the team the lead, and I was sitting there disappointed, discouraged, and contemplating what kind of alcohol would best get me through the rest of the game. And then, those marathon survivors walked onto the field, most of them missing a limb, all of them smiling from ear to ear. As I said to a friend I was IMing with, talk about your instant perspective.”
I don’t think that sounds trite at all. It hits the nail on the head for me.