Games 153 through 155 – Red Sox
Red Sox 4, Blue Jays 3
Blue Jays 6, Red Sox 3
Red Sox 3, Blue Jays 0
Record: 91-64
1.5 GB Tampa in AL East, 6.5 GA NYY in Wild Card
Friends, Romans, Marylanders, I come here not to bury Yankee Stadium, but to praise it.
There’s nothing in all of sports like an October Yankee Stadium crowd in full throat. It sounds like postseason baseball, with all its anticipation, exhilaration, and expectation. It’s neurotic and arrogant at the same time, a lot like the City itself. It’s an all-encompassing wall of noise that I hated and envied at the same time for too many years. It’s the soundtrack of the postseason.
The only more perfect postseason sound I’ve ever heard was the amplified clang of Mark Bellhorn’s homerun in the 7th game of the 2004 ALCS, signaling the death knell of the Curse of the Bambino.
Because for a Red Sox fan, the only sound more spine-tingling than a screaming Yankee Stadium crowd is one rendered dead silent.
I’ve only been to the big ballpark in the Bronx once, and that was a meaningless mid-summer contest against the Brewers back when the Milwaukee Nine were still American Leaguers and the Yankees had yet to commence their recent (and far, far too lengthy) resurgence. Needless to say, I didn’t get the full Monty. Nonetheless, despite the relative insignificance of the event, the historian in me reveled in the scene, even as the partisan in me fought to contain vague feelings of discomfort. The yard itself was nothing special, but the ghosts were real.
Meanwhile, back in Boston, the Sox find themselves needing to win but a single game in their next seven to advance to the playoffs for the fifth time in six seasons. How ‘bout we keep the drama to a minimum, eh?
Red Sox 4, Blue Jays 3
Blue Jays 6, Red Sox 3
Red Sox 3, Blue Jays 0
Record: 91-64
1.5 GB Tampa in AL East, 6.5 GA NYY in Wild Card
Friends, Romans, Marylanders, I come here not to bury Yankee Stadium, but to praise it.
There’s nothing in all of sports like an October Yankee Stadium crowd in full throat. It sounds like postseason baseball, with all its anticipation, exhilaration, and expectation. It’s neurotic and arrogant at the same time, a lot like the City itself. It’s an all-encompassing wall of noise that I hated and envied at the same time for too many years. It’s the soundtrack of the postseason.
The only more perfect postseason sound I’ve ever heard was the amplified clang of Mark Bellhorn’s homerun in the 7th game of the 2004 ALCS, signaling the death knell of the Curse of the Bambino.
Because for a Red Sox fan, the only sound more spine-tingling than a screaming Yankee Stadium crowd is one rendered dead silent.
I’ve only been to the big ballpark in the Bronx once, and that was a meaningless mid-summer contest against the Brewers back when the Milwaukee Nine were still American Leaguers and the Yankees had yet to commence their recent (and far, far too lengthy) resurgence. Needless to say, I didn’t get the full Monty. Nonetheless, despite the relative insignificance of the event, the historian in me reveled in the scene, even as the partisan in me fought to contain vague feelings of discomfort. The yard itself was nothing special, but the ghosts were real.
Meanwhile, back in Boston, the Sox find themselves needing to win but a single game in their next seven to advance to the playoffs for the fifth time in six seasons. How ‘bout we keep the drama to a minimum, eh?
3 comments:
How do we feel about Coco and Casey replacing Lowell and Drew in a short series against the Halos? Is there any way that Coco can stay hot? The Sox would be putting one of the best defensive outfields around on the field as a plus.
i'll not be commenting on the postseason until they get there.
Come on rob, what's the worst that can happen? Sox lose every game to finish the year while Yanks win out?
Gee that would be a shame...
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