Buzz The Bridge: Sports

October 17, 2008

Game 5: I'M HAVING THE BEST... GAME... OF MY LIFE...

Last night I was tired.

It'd been a long day full of solving pointless issues at work, I'd been out late the night before, and I really just wanted to hit the gym, go home, and pass out.

And then at 6:30pm, in the middle of an early evening fire drill here still here at work, Jess Richards here at OTO casually just asked, "Hey Charlie, want to go to the game tonight?"

And it began.

Turns out OTO advertises on MLB.com for a few clients, and Nick Gregorian at the site had offered a few tickets to Jess who couldn't go. Jess was feeling sorry for me always bitching about never getting free s#%&, and couldn't go herself, so threw them out there. I'd already made plans with new roommate Erin Byrne and Isaac to watch the game at my place with a couple beers, so thew out the invite to them and Tall Dan, and due to the damn T, Byrne and Isaac got back first. Sorry, buddy. Next time for sure.

I race home and grab Isaac and Erin, we do a shot and cab over to Fenway, drop by Nick's offices where a few dozen people are standing around pregaming, Nick hands us the tix and we're in. We head over to Gate A, grab a few beers inside, and head to our seats which weren't too bad -- Section 25, row 14. Up back behind the Tampa dugout in the grandstands.

And for six terrible innings it was Games 2 and 3 all over again, and by the end of Tampa's at-bat in the seventh they've racheted it up to 7-0. The crowd is morose, I'm pissed, all I want to do is bitch about how they've lost their heart, that after two championships they just don't want it this year. But I just jam it and watch. Two dudes behind us who remind me of Waldorf and Statler from The Muppet Show won't shut up, a couple times I almost turn around and ram the peanut bag down their throats.

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And then in the bottom of the seventh Dustin Pedroia comes up to the plate. And singles Jed Lowrie home. And it's now 7-1.

And then David Ortiz steps up to the plate. Thinner in weight, slow, and visibly unhappy, Ortiz has been having a terrible postseason -- year, really -- and on the postseason stats board his average is reading a glum ".000".

But he has two men on, and if there's one thing Sox fans have come to hope for it's Senor Clutch coming through when it matters. And he does. He hits a blazing drill out to deep right field, all three players come home. And Fenway goes ballistic. We're still behind 7-4, but strangers are hugging and crying, I'm ready to rip one of the chairs out of the cement and break it because Papi's alive!, and I almost take out Erin and Isaac hugging them both. And you can just feel that something has changed.

And Tampa stops the game for what seems like half an hour. It's still bottom of the seventh, but to look at the field you'd think the game was already over with all the Rays out on the field trying to figure out where their pitching suddenly went.

They finally make some decision, manage to get the third out and take it to the seventh inning. And for some insane reason, the music starts, the place starts going nuts again, and jesus tapdancing christ, they're bringing out Papelbon in the top of the eighth. I head down into the roaring crowd to spend a few minutes at the top of the bleachers, and on the way end up seeing his pitches right behind home plate.

Papelbon shuts down Tampa's offense and I get up to the top of the bleachers under the Dunkin' Donuts sign just as "Sweet Caroline" kicks in at a time no one can say no to it, and after a few minutes the Sox are up at bat again. Jason Bay gets on base with a walk, and my boy JD "JD Drew F#%^ing Rules" Drew is up. And belts a fastball back out toward me for a two-run homer that never seemed to get a chance to spend any quality time with gravity.

Funny quick aside, when up on the top of the bleachers I take the first photo below. Completely coincidentally, back at our seats without knowing where I was, Isaac takes the second photo below. Click to enlarge it, click again to zoom in, then check out the dude at the top of the bleachers between the Dunkin Donuts and Ford signs holding up what looks to be a white iPhone taking a picture. Yeah. This guy. Nuts.

So Boston has two more runs, it's now 7-6 and we're one run behind, and I decide to screw the exploring and begin a hundred-yard sprint back to Isaac and Erin through the tunnels that's pretty much a rapid-edit exploration of the variety of ways that human faces can look pumped.

I get back to my seat and people can't calm down. Team Captain Jason Varitek gets replaced by Sean Casey, 'Tek walks off the field looking miserable, and after Casey strikes out Tek-style, Mark Kotsay hits a double, putting the tying run on a seven-zero rally in scoring position. And Coco Crisp comes up to bat and hits a line drive to right, scoring Kotsay and getting the seventh Sox run just before getting himself out on second and ending the eighth. Scoreboard looks like this:

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Top of the ninth, score is tied, and freakishly awesome giant Justin Masterson comes onto the mound with his Big Bird red socks and pitches a scoreless inning. And the Sox are now in a position where any run will win the game.

Pedroia and Papi both strike out.

Youkilis comes up, smacks one to first, and due to a crazy throwing error by Evan Longoria, the ball flips over first, and Youk runs for second and makes it by a hair.

Jason Bay comes up, and the Rays' J.P. Howell intentionally walks him, only to put... YES. JD F#%^ung Drew. Up at bat with two outs and no longer sensitive about a damn thing.

And the dude everyone hated on all 2007 nails a blazing line drive to right field, bringing Youk home and winning the biggest comeback in MLB history since 1929, the second biggest in history, and the biggest by far for a series-deciding game.

I almost throw Byrne into the stands in front of us, pretty sure I slipped Isaac a little tongue, might have impregnated Waldorf or Statler, I don't know which one, but it was amazing for both of us. The field is covered in the Sox's color guard, the whole team is going insane, Madore sends some stupid text saying "I hope you didn't leave", TD sends one summing it up with just "Wow",and the three of us all head out to TC's to do a victory drink before taking the cab home.

Click to enlarge:

Coco Crisp: "A playoff game facing elimination, we're down by so much... to come back and win it in the ninth with a walk-off by J.D., it's pretty much the most amazing game I've been a part of."

Yeah dude, it was. Game of my life. Thanks also to Isaac and Byrne for coming.

Posted at 12:31 AM in Sports | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

October 02, 2008

Man-ny... Man-ny...

Headed out to Magoun's last night to meet up with the roommates and Steve to watch the Sox's first game of the playoffs against Anaheim, just a stellar game in so many ways despite the 10pm start and almost no one in the bar.

Jon Lester threw an amazing seven innings and Papelbon (who is a retarded 2-for-42 against the entire Angels roster, a .048 batting average) threw a typically nasty close.

The highlight play was Jay Bay Bay's two-run homer at the top of the sixth, check it out. On the same page also see a ridiculous sliding catch by Ellsbury, Ortiz batting in Ellsbury home in the top of the ninth, and Youkilis bobbling a catch and then throwing a strangely-running Guerrero out at third.

Manny who?

Posted at 05:10 PM in Sports | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

Currently Reading

David Benioff: City of Thieves: A Novel
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Dennis Lehane: The Given Day: A Novel
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Junot Díaz: The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao
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