Precious few things could have roused me from my idleness, but this public service announcement just had to be made. Do you know who David Ortiz is? Can you put a face to the name Johnny Damon, or Curt Schilling, or the Green Monster? I didn't think so, and you should be ashamed. Because today, these men claimed the Pennant of the 2004 American League Championship Series in the backyard of The Enemy in what has to be the most electrifying comeback in sports, ever.
When did it all begin? I'm guessing 1920, when Babe Ruth (yes, The Babe) was traded by the Boston Red Sox to the New York Yankees. 84 years, it seems, isn't quite enough recovery time for the aggrieved citizens of Red Sox Nation, who have made an uncomfortable habit of swearing bloody revenge "next season", every season. Most epic rivalries (Real Madrid-Barcelona, Republicans-Democrats, Hewitt-Roddick) see the fortunes of both sides rise and ebb from time to time in stark contrast to the other, but Yankees-Red Sox proves to be an interesting exception.
Let's see now. The Yankees have 26 World Series championships in their trophy cabinet; the Red Sox have, well, none. The Yankees added to their ranks this season Alex Rodriguez, the finest player in the modern game; the Red Sox procured Curt Schilling, baseball's grittiest pitcher. As always, this season pitched cool sophistication against wild abandon; poise against passion; Pinstripes Ltd again Idiots Inc. Last year this time, the Red Sox blew it once again in Game 7, which the Yankees won in extra innings off an Aaron Boone homer.
These statistics mean absolutely jack today.
How can I express in words the feat that the Red Sox have accomplished on the stroke of midnight today at Yankee Stadium, some point between Ruben Sierra getting nailed on a groundout and an entire Red Sox Nation raising their arms in celebration? Numbers and history can only paint so much: the Red Sox rallied from being 3-0 down in a best-of-seven series to take the ALCS 4-3; no team has ever stormed back from a 3-0 deficit to even tie the series, let alone win it; let alone win it in an emphatic 10-3 fashion; let alone win it against the like of Derek Jeter and A-Rod and the rest of the Evil Empire. Do you see how this is bigger than Man Utd's triumph in 1999? Can you fathom the raw human emotion of the players who were left for dead in Game 3 when they were routed 19-8 at home, players at whom all these statistics were thrown at, that proclaimed it cannot be done in 70 different languages across 300 newspapers and periodicals around the globe?
Demasiado malo, los Yanquis.
Trop mauvais, les Yankee.
Uma pena, Ianques.
