Jumping on the Bandwagon

I'll always remember being in Fenway Park for Game 6 of the 1975 World Series when Carlton Fisk launched that memorable game winning home run during the bottom of the twelfth inning, the one he dramatically waved at in a desperate attempt to will it from going foul.

Okay, okay, I was actually with a bunch of friends screaming up a storm in my parents' living room at 12:30 a.m. while my father attempted to sleep two rooms away. I just thought I'd lie since everyone else claims to have been there—even Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting during a dramatic exchange with Robin Williams seems to be recalling a game that occurred before he was born...one more bit of evidence of the genetic memory of all Red Sox fans.

(On the other hand, I honestly was in the upper deck of Candlestick Park exactly 15 years ago during the Loma Prieta earthquake that preceded Game 3 of the Giants/A's Bay Bridge Series, but that's another story...)

Tonight's twelfth inning game-winning home run in Game 4 of the playoffs, this time by David Ortiz, keeps the Red Sox chances alive, at least for a few more hours. When Ortiz came to bat, I briefly considered waking Kevin, who has shown extra interest in the games, and bringing him out to watch. But it was nearly 10:30 already—and that was on the West Coast. I can't imagine the problems faced by parents of loyal Red Sox fans on the East Coast where it was nearly 1:30 a.m.

I watched the faces of the fans in Fenway—the television producers kept returning to dozens of reaction shots of pained Red Sox fans during the waning moments of the game—and saw myself and my friends. Of course, you could make a good case that watching the Red Sox playoffs and cheering for them now after not catching a single inning of play during the regular season is jumping on the bandwagon. But that would be missing the point. It's hard for any Red Sox fan who has lived through the heartbreak of previous seasons, even if only last year's dismal postseason defeat by the Yankees, to resist the call to witness their October struggles. I see on those faces all the hope and pain I remember so well.

David Ortiz kept that hope alive at least for fifteen more hours. Most likely it will just increase the bittersweet pain that awaits the Fenway faithful. But you hope against all reason that it will give those true believers, the fans who followed the entire season and who last night could be seen braving the forty degree temperatures at 1 a.m. while still waving their "I believe" placards, a turning point to forever remember in a dream they cling to against all odds.