Derelict Junction

Providing missile launch codes for foreign cryptographers everywhere.

Monday, October 18, 2004

You're serious, aren't you?

I promise to not make all these about baseball.

Following Sunday night's 5 hour Sox/Yanks game that the Sox finally won in extra innings, giving hope (however fleeting) to Sox fans everywhere, I was so drained. -Just from watching. I can't imagine what it was like for those guys playing.

The best and worst aspect of baseball is the pace. When you're watching a bad game, you think nothing could possibly be more boring. When you're watching a good game, there's so much drama generated in the moments between plays it can be mentally and physically taxing just to watch. So with the most storied rivalry in baseball, elimination for the Red Sox laying in the balance, and hours of extra innings to ponder what you'd like to see happen, Sunday's game could make even the most casual baseball fan reach into the medicine cabinet.

But the Sox pulled it out. So there's hope, right? Like I wrote earlier, "Don't Stop Believin'."

A coworker, knowing all about my genetically encoded Red Sox addiction, mentioned the game and noted how great it was to see the Sox win one. I immediately agreed. He talked about how difficult it must have been for those fans to sit on the edge of their seats, wondering if it was gonna be the Sox last game for over 5 hours.

"Maddening. Absolutely maddening," I replied. "All I can hope for is to win today's game, and for the Sox to squeak out a cheap game 6 win. 'Cuz as we saw with the Sox in '86, and the Giants a couple years ago, a heart-breaking game 6 all but assures victory in game 7, right?"

This is where, having finished my thought, I paused for the other end of the conversation to be picked up, but there was only silence. Nothing. Realizing I've been looking down at my desk, I quickly looked up to find that "Oh, no" look. That concerned, almost parental, "I don't want to see you get hurt again" look. The "You're serious, aren't you?" look.

Like this:


The conversation ended rather abruptly with the statement, "At least they didn't get skunked," which I agreed and quickly sunk into an awkward silence.

So here I am. Another October. Believing the same old story. Only this year, the setting appears even more delusional. Down 3 games to none, a deficit no team has ever come back from, and coming off just one cosmetic marathon extra inning game to provide a glimmer of hope.

Am I sick? Do I like pain?

Tonight's game: even longer, more dramatic, more drawn out than last night. 14 innings. Almost 6 hours. Sox 5, Yanks 4. Sox trail 3 Games to 2, the rest of the series in New York.

Thank you to all the enablers who called me when it was finally over. I love you with all my heart. Tomorrow's game starts at 4:50 Pacific.

Oh, yeah, I accidentally, in a drunken stupor, pledged to go see Hall & Oates at the Concord Pavillion on Wednesday. It definitely sounds like something funny to actually do, but the only thing that could spare me that fate is if there's a Game 7. I already informed my friends, if the Sox beat the Yanks and people call me after the game and hear Hall & Oates in the backround, they'll think I've really lost it.

So how's that for fate laying in the balance? As my friend Jon said, "How is it that, during the entire retro 80's thing, they're the only band that never got cool again?" So please guys, stare into this photo and save me:
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At 10:58 AM, Blogger Drew said...

So help me, if I call during game 7 and hear 'ManEater' in the background, I'll seal off all entrances to San Francisco and you can live out the rest of your life at the Concord Pavilion waiting in line for REO Speedwagon tickets!!

Of course, if you were a true Sox fan, you would superstitiously believe that having Hall and Oates tickets 'caused' the Sox to start winning and you would go out and buy tickets to the rest of their shows. I think there's still good seats left for their gig at the Stanislaus County Fair...

 

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