Win It For

Continuing the theme started on the SOSH forum and continued by Simmons (which I may repeat some since I didn’t read all 48 pages of the forum thread):

Win it for Ted and Yaz and Bobby and Johnny Pesky and Pudge and Dewey and Jim Ed. A part of every single one of them will be holding that trophy soon.

Win it for Ellis Burks, whose career has taken him some interesting places. And when they hand out the rings in April, let Greenie come running onto the field and crash into him one last time.

Win it for Jay, and Mark, and Dave and Peter and John and Fred and Pat, and Eric and Brian, and Jimmy, and Hillary, and Kentucky Jim, and Mark, and Cheryl, and Travis, and Kathy and Kerry, and John and Liz, and Alex, and Chris, and Steve and Churchill and Amy and Hilary and Cathy, and Mark and Carole and Mike, and Dana and Terri, and Amanda and Tony, and Vicki and Jeanne and Molly and Justin. This is a rough chrononological list of every friend who’s shared my Red Sox mania (mostly at Fenway) for at least three hours. Amazing how many people will be going through my mind this month, thinking, "I wonder how they feel".

Win it for Dan Shaughnessy, who can finally move on and write something else soon. For Joe and Jerry, who’ve grown on me exponentially over the last couple years. Digress away, fellas; no one wears their hearts on their sleeves more. For Sean and Don and Jerry, all a million times more worthy of being in the booth tonight than these Fox guys. Why can’t the World Series be simulcast on NESN?

Win it for Sooz, and show her I wasn’t kidding when I said this would happen someday. With any luck there’ll be a critical balk tonight.

Win it for Yves, a born-and-bred New Yorker who made the risky decision to voluntarily become a Red Sox fan. Justify his love.

Win it for my sister Christine. I don’t know exactly when the switch went on that turned her into a lifelong fan (probably about the time Tim Wakefield arrived in town, heh heh) but she’s there. And for everyone sitting in the bleachers with me and her on 4/15/1997, still the most fun evening I’ve ever spent at a ballpark.

Win it for my three grandparents who aren’t here to watch this team. For Grandpa Frank; I don’t think "they stink" anymore! For Grandpa Walter and Grandma Helen: wherever they’re watching this Series from, I hope they’re not sitting behind a pole.

Win it for my Grandma Ann. She had a triple bypass two weeks ago; at one point while she was recuperating, my Aunt Carol told her how the Red Sox came from behind and beat the Yankees. Grandma nodded and drifted off to sleep. A few minutes later, she woke up out of the blue and yelled, "The Red Sox won!" She was two years old in that far-off, mythical land we know so well as 1918. There’s literally no one who’s been alive and waiting for this moment longer.

Win it for my Dad. He claimed for a long time that he’d given up on the Red Sox. Yeah, right. But during some down time last summer, he wrote a book about how the team could turn itself around. Then when they announced that Schilling would be starting the second game of the 2004 season, he bought plane and game tickets to Baltimore. If this season has been about one thing, it’s been about new beginnings. I think he’s enjoyed his new beginning with this team.

Win it for my Mom. That book my Dad wrote? She got to hear every bit of raw material that went into it…and a million more besides. Sometimes a little louder than she wanted to hear it. But who else talked about (literally) dancing in the street every time Greenwell homered in the ‘95 Pennant Race? Who else got such a kick out of every defensive indifference call, and every manufactured run? This one’s for you, Mom. After all these years, they’ve finally played to their level.

One more.