WE DID IT!!!!!

Originally written on 10/28/04

Eighty-Six years of misery, torment, heartbreak, and tears is finally over. It's all in the past now. None of it matters anymore.

The Babe, Enos Slaughter, Bob Gibson, Larry Barnett, Eddie Armbrister, The Boston Massacre, Bucky Bleepin' Dent, The Steamer, Billy Buck, Grady Little, Aaron Boone.

All the villains and goats are finally off the hook. Bucky, you can go back to 2 names again. Billy B, you never deserved it to begin with, but now you can sleep easy again (although I'm sure you already were). If you ever find it in your heart to forgive us and come back, you'll receive a hero's welcome.

Who would have ever imagined that a merry band of idiots would inspire an entire "Nation"? And the way they did it, staging the greatest comeback of all time against the greatest rivals of all time, and then sweeping a great team in the World Series, finishing it on a night when the moon was red. This stuff cannot be made up.

8 straight for a post season record. Heroes galore in the regular and post season, you name a player on that roster and they played some important part in bringing this thing home. Everything just went our way even when we did everything we could to try to prevent it.

Unbelievable. The demons are gone, the past is history, and the Boston Red Sox are World Champions.

How do I feel right now?

First of all, I'm amazed that I'm still here to feel anything. Isn't it supposed to be "Armageddon" right now?

In order for anyone to understand how I feel right now you have to kind of know a little about my relationship with this team.

I was 8 in "75" and only vaguely remember parts of it.

I started following them from there but my first real memories are from "78". The Boston Massacre in September, the late charge at the end of the season to force the extra game, Bucky Bleepin' Dent. We were big bubble gum chewers back then and I remember charging out of the house as the game ended with 2 packages of grape Bubble Yum, firing each individual piece off into the early evening sky, cursing Dent, The Yankees, and my beloved Sox.

I cried when we let Pudge, Lynn, and the Rooster walk. I swore I was done with them. They killed me in "78" and now my heroes were leaving.

In "86" I spent a weekend in early October outside of Fenway, from Friday night to Monday morning, waiting to buy playoff tickets. We got'em for games 4 and 5 of the World Series. I don't usually bet, but as the Series started I plopped down a couple hundred on my team to win it. There was no way we were gonna lose this thing, not after Dave Henderson in California, it was easy money.

I was crushed. I don't recall ever feeling that bad up to that point in my life. Unlike many Sox fans, I never blamed Buckner. I thought he was vilified unnecessarily and it wasn't right.

In "87" I was working full time and living at home so I had some extra money to blow on season tickets. I picked the wrong year.

My faith in this team never wavered, I knew that every spring we had a chance to win it. Occasionally we even came close.

Last year was really the year. We had this thing locked up. We went down 0-2 to the A's and roared back to take the next 3. How could we possibly lose now? I knew what happened in "86" but this was different. We had the Yankees right where we wanted them.

I watch most of the games. Of course I have other things going on in my life so I miss a few here and there, but I always try to plan things around the games. Penny now looks at the schedule when she wants to do something so she can figure out when I'm available to do it.

Kyla was born in November 2000. That following summer she was at Fenway for the first time and has been back every year since.

Last night, as Renteria was coming to the plate for the final at bat, Kyla woke up. I ran into her room and brought her out to watch the final out. At not even 4 yet, she got to see something that I had to wait over 37 years to see, and something that hadn't happened in 86 years.

When we beat the Yankees I received phone calls and emails from friends and co-workers, either congratulating me or just letting me know they were thinking of me. Some people I hadn't talked to in a while. It's already started happening again today. As if I was part of the team.

And I am. I'm part of the team and part of the Nation. This thing was won for us, all of us. How do I know that? Because they told me, John Henry, Tom Werner, Larry Luchino, Theo Epstien, Terry Francona, Johnny Damon, Kevin Millar, Big Papi, Curt Schilling, Tim Wakefield, Manny, Pedro, D-Lowe and all the rest. They all said it. They won it for each other, they won it for the Nation, they won it for all of us. And they're right. We're all in this together.

Some of the players actually apologized for not doing it last year. I heard both Henry and Werner apologize because it took them 3 years to get it done. They all know what it's about. They all get it. This is bigger than them, it's bigger than me, it's bigger than all of us. We couldn't ask for anything better.

I started out trying to answer a question. How do I feel right now? I guess I still can't answer it. I still really don't know. The only thing I do know right now is that the Boston Red Sox are the World Champions of baseball.