The Joy of Seven
Here we are, at last – Game Seven. Only a fool would call this the greatest game in Sox history. In fact, how can it top Games Four and Five, those marathons, with the Sox facing elimination, the bullpen throwing ining after inning of shutout ball, and Papi ending each night with a walkoff? What drama, what excitement was there in Game Seven? Exactly.
Who needs drama, when the Sox are capping off the biggest comeback in postseason history? And although it would have been great to see Fenway rocking from the first inning all the way through the ninth, how sweet was it to see all those pinstriped fans sitting with their heads in their hands? And the few Sox faithful, with the exception of that weird seventh inning, making more noise consistently, especially as the evening wore on, than all the Yankee fans combined.
I loved this game. Ortiz getting things started in the first inning. Damon’s slam in only the second inning. An 8-1 lead, courtesy of Damon’s second blast, this one into the upper deck, after 4. Lowe totally closing the door. One run, on only one hit, through six innings. In fact, he allowed only two fly balls in all that time. Both to Manny, neither hit hard. It was never close. And that’s what was so great. After all those nerve racking nights, after all that anxiety and stress, how great was it just to sit back and enjoy seeing the Yankees get pummeled? In the seventh game no less; with the pennant on the line.
Only two aggravating moments the entire night. In the bottom of the first Sveum sends Damon on Manny’s single to left, when there’s no chance because Damon had to wait up to let the ball through the infield. Worse yet, why send Damon with Ortiz coming to the plate? Then when Ortiz hit the first pitch over Sheffield, into the right field bleachers, I thought, there’s a run wasted. Fortunately, by the bottom of the second, it hardly seemed to matter. And then, with Lowe unhittable, and the fans sitting on their hands, Pedro makes an inscrutable appearance in the seventh, giving up two runs, on three hits, each one hit hard, and lucky to get out of the inning with Cairo hitting the ball all the way to the right field corner for the last out. What was that? Just another chance to Pedro to revel in the attention of 55,000 fans chanting his name? Fortunately that rally was snuffed out in the top of the eighth, when Bellhorn hit one off the right field foul pole. Bellhorn again. The unlikeliest hero.
After that hit, it was just a matter of time. Another run in the ninth; Timlin and Embree shutting things down for the last two innings. And then, Sierra hitting a weak grounder to Pokey and the ALCS was over. The Sox had swept the Yankees, after spotting them that three game lead, three games and eight innings.First pennant in eighteen years. First post-season triumph over the Yanks. Really the series was anticlimactic. What night of Sox baseball will ever be remembered with more affection? With more unabated joy? How many phone calls that night? How many causes for celebration?
Meanwhile, my reminiscence is tempered by the front office bungling of Theo’s contract, and uncertainty about who returns. Stay tuned.
Who needs drama, when the Sox are capping off the biggest comeback in postseason history? And although it would have been great to see Fenway rocking from the first inning all the way through the ninth, how sweet was it to see all those pinstriped fans sitting with their heads in their hands? And the few Sox faithful, with the exception of that weird seventh inning, making more noise consistently, especially as the evening wore on, than all the Yankee fans combined.
I loved this game. Ortiz getting things started in the first inning. Damon’s slam in only the second inning. An 8-1 lead, courtesy of Damon’s second blast, this one into the upper deck, after 4. Lowe totally closing the door. One run, on only one hit, through six innings. In fact, he allowed only two fly balls in all that time. Both to Manny, neither hit hard. It was never close. And that’s what was so great. After all those nerve racking nights, after all that anxiety and stress, how great was it just to sit back and enjoy seeing the Yankees get pummeled? In the seventh game no less; with the pennant on the line.
Only two aggravating moments the entire night. In the bottom of the first Sveum sends Damon on Manny’s single to left, when there’s no chance because Damon had to wait up to let the ball through the infield. Worse yet, why send Damon with Ortiz coming to the plate? Then when Ortiz hit the first pitch over Sheffield, into the right field bleachers, I thought, there’s a run wasted. Fortunately, by the bottom of the second, it hardly seemed to matter. And then, with Lowe unhittable, and the fans sitting on their hands, Pedro makes an inscrutable appearance in the seventh, giving up two runs, on three hits, each one hit hard, and lucky to get out of the inning with Cairo hitting the ball all the way to the right field corner for the last out. What was that? Just another chance to Pedro to revel in the attention of 55,000 fans chanting his name? Fortunately that rally was snuffed out in the top of the eighth, when Bellhorn hit one off the right field foul pole. Bellhorn again. The unlikeliest hero.
After that hit, it was just a matter of time. Another run in the ninth; Timlin and Embree shutting things down for the last two innings. And then, Sierra hitting a weak grounder to Pokey and the ALCS was over. The Sox had swept the Yankees, after spotting them that three game lead, three games and eight innings.First pennant in eighteen years. First post-season triumph over the Yanks. Really the series was anticlimactic. What night of Sox baseball will ever be remembered with more affection? With more unabated joy? How many phone calls that night? How many causes for celebration?
Meanwhile, my reminiscence is tempered by the front office bungling of Theo’s contract, and uncertainty about who returns. Stay tuned.
posted by pops | 10:18 PM
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