Sox Return to the Series

[Note to my readers: I wrote this on Sunday night, intending to post yesterday morning. One problem with the blog is that I cannot post any more from our MacBook at home. So I compose and send it to the office. I was planning to post at lunch hour, when the call came that Susan had been in an accident. Now that she's better, and before the Series starts tomorrow, I wanted to get this up on the blog.]

 

I became a Sox fan in 1967, the year of the Impossible Dream. My first night in Boston, I was invited to the Park, and saw the Sox beat the Yankees; Yaz homered; and Mickey Mantle, who entered the game in the late innings, had a base hit. The Sox lost in seven games to the Cardinals that year. Their ace, Jim Lonborg, had to pitch on the last day of the regular season, and could not start Game One of the Series. (Back then, there were no playoffs, just the regular season and the Series.) So he had to start Game Seven on only two days rest, against a well rested Bob Gibson; in the end it almost seemed inevitable when they lost.

Over the next 36 years, the Sox returned to the Series only twice; losing in seven to the Big Red Machine in 1975, and to the Mets in 86. Everyone remembers Fisk’s twelfth inning blast off the foul pole (Pedie just missed that pole by inches Saturday night), but I remember Spaceman Lee’s blister in Game Seven. He couldn’t finish the game, and Boston’s bullpen could not keep Cincinnati in check. And speaking of what everyone remembers, it wasn’t Buckner who lost Game Six in 86; it was the pen, who couldn’t close out, after getting the Mets down to their last strike, with the bases empty. By the time that ball went through Buckner’s legs, the Series was over.

Anyway, after decades of disappointment, with only an occasional chance to play in October, the Sox have made it to the Series for the third time in the last ten years. Who ever imagined that would happen? And who thought we could watch the Series, and enjoy it as play-off baseball, instead of a matter of life and death. No one in the Nation is going to tune in on Wednesday night wondering if they will ever see a World Series championship before going to their grave.

A couple observations about this ALCS. First, no one player dominated the series for Boston. It was Papi with the big hit in Game Two; Napoli carrying the offense in Games Three and Five; and Victorino in the clinching Game Six on Saturday. And that pretty much mirrored the regular season, when anyone in the lineup could break out and carry the team on any given night. By way if example only, Middlebrooks, who isn’t even starting, had seven RBIs in a late season victory.

Secondly, I was pleased that Uehara was awarded the MVP, because truthfully, he has been the most valuable guy on the team over the second half of the season. Check out these numbers for his post-season performance: five for five in save opportunities; thirteen Ks and no walks; and WHIP of .56. During his post-game interview, a reporter mentioned that, coming into the ALCS, there was talk about whether Uehara would be tired, having worked so much in the second half of the season. Would he care to comment on that? His response: “I am tired.” What’s not to love about this guy?

Third, let’s not overlook Boston’s defense, particularly the sparkling play of Drew and Pedroia up the middle. In Game Six, Drew snuffed another Tigers rally with a great play on Cabrera’s grounder behind second base. So far in the post-season, Drew and Pedroia between them have made 36 put-outs, 58 assists, and a single error. Eleven double plays. Against a pitching staff as strong as Detroit’s how important was that defense?

Lastly, how about the composure of Xander Bogaerts? The run scoring double in the fifth inning, and two huge walks, including one in the crucial seventh. He was behind in the count for both of those walks, yet was able to lay off bad pitches, and work his way on base. We were all sorry to see Iglesias go in the trade for Peavy, but after watching Bogaerts in the ALCS, it’s easy to understand why the front office was willing to make that trade.

So it’s another week or more of not shaving, and hardly sleeping. I’m expecting to have many more nervous breakdowns, but am prepared for them, having refreshed my stock of Drambuie and Scotch, so that I can continue with this year’s beverage regimen. And for the heart of RedSox Nation, after the horror of last April, how sweet has this October been? Go Sox; B Strong.