I stopped at the cemetery on the way in to work to pay homage to my parents. I couldn’t help but notice what a spectacular morning it was. A bright blue sky, the morning sun highlighting the brilliant foliage colors of October in New England. I told them the Sox had won but of course they knew. How could they have missed the collective roar of Red Sox nation around midnight last night?
The visit was a trip down memory lane as well. Visions of my first Red Sox game at Fenway with my father, my grandmother teaching me to play cribbage while simultaneously explaining the infield fly rule to me. My mother making division interesting by showing me how to figure out a batting average. I can remember reading about Spot, Dick and Jane but my real reading skills came as a result of reading about the Sox in the sports pages.
They did it last night. They did what my father and mother never got to see. They are on top of the world of base ball and every single human being that I know in this little place called home is jubilant. The last two weeks have been a roller coaster of emotion. The lows of the earlier Yankee domination followed by the complete euphoria of finally settling that old score. Before we even got a chance to fully absorb the Yankee win we were up two games to none over the Cardinals.
Game three was spent with a group of friends whose connections go back to elementary school. Shared sports experiences included the 75 Carbo homerun, Flutie’s Hail Mary, the Sox 86 heartbreak, and the Pats first super bowl win just to name a few. Most of our commonly shared angst was put to rest early by a lead and by a pair of blunders which under normal circumstances would have been done by our team, but not this year.
Last night however the world came full circle. My son came over and had a pre-game meal with me and the bride and then we settled in to watch game 4. It was a repeat of a thousand times before. Every time I looked at him I had a different memory. Bouncing him on my knee, sticking a bat in his hands while he was still in diapers, going on road trips to card shows or memorabilia stores looking for Sox stuff. The pictures were like a kaleidoscope going so fast my head was spinning.
In retrospect its great that they won and pigs have flown. However win or lose the memories are priceless and how odd a species we are that a simple game can weave such an intricate web of shared feelings and emotions into our collective minds.
