October Miracles

For the majority of the last 20 or so years of my life, if you asked me what my favorite sport was, the answer would have been baseball without hesitation.  However, over the last few years, as I've gotten busier and games have gotten longer, I felt myself drifting away from the game I once loved so much.  Don't get me wrong, I still enjoy baseball, but if given the choice between baseball, basketball, and football, America's pastime is probably coming in third place.

Still there is something about baseball that never really lets you go once it grabs a piece of your heart as a child.  That fact is never more evident than during October when the grizzled veterans who play the game appear to be transformed by the desperation of the postseason back into the children who originally fell in love with the game.  The joy of victory and the agony of defeat is no longer mitigated by the entirely to long 162 game grind of a regular season and can be seen on every face in every crucial moment.

If the magic of October had ever been in doubt, that doubt was removed on Tuesday night when the Kansas City Royals turned in a game for the ages in defeating the Oakland A's in extra innings.  You know the story already so I won't bore you by rehashing the details except to say this; after 29 years of futility the Royals took every punch the A's threw and refused to be turned away so quickly in their return to baseball's grandest stage.  It was one of the best baseball games I had ever seen.

As I was watching that game, I was reminded of one of baseballs other unique features; its ability to act as a time machine.  More so than with any other game, watching baseball has the tendency to take us back to a different time.  Some people go back to the first baseball game they ever saw or played.  Some people go back to a time they were watching a game with their dad or grandpa.  On Tuesday night, I was taken back 10 years ago to my parents living room where I sat alone watching every game of the 2004 Boston Red Sox postseason.

10 years is a long time in almost any way you look at it, but there are some things that seem to defy time and feel like they happened yesterday no matter how many years have passed.  For me, the Boston Red Sox playoff run of 2004 is one of those things.  I remember nearly every detail of what happened and how I reacted.  I even remember the hat that I refused to take off because I was convinced of its mystical powers which obviously were leading the Red Sox to victory.

10 years is a long time.  I was 17 years old.  I was still 7 months away from graduating high school.  I was 3 years away from meeting my future wife.  I was 8 years away from getting married.  I was 9 years away from getting my dogs.

10 years is a long time, but every now and then I get taken back a decade to October 2004 like it was just the other day.  The nice thing about reliving the 2004 Red Sox is that it is filled with only joy and none of the stress that originally accompanied that time in my life.  I don't get sick to my stomach thinking about how Mike Mussina almost threw a perfect game against Boston in Game 1 of the ALCS.  I don't hang my head in shame as the Sox get pounded 19-8 in Game 3.  I don't pace and wring my hands as Games 4 and 5 go extra inning after extra inning waiting for a hero to emerge.  10 years later, I only have to experience the emergence of that hero, and the ecstasy of winning 8 consecutive games as my favorite team made history, slayed their demons, and won their first World Series in 86 years.

Baseball may never mean as much to me as it once did and that's ok because that miracle in October of 2004 will always be there.  And ever year, when October rolls around, I will remember that no matter the odds, anything is possible.