Okay, here’s the obligatory blurb on the anniversary of Game 6 of the ’86 World Series. I’m stealing from myself. I wrote this in the comments section of another blog. Truth is, as much as I think 2004 erased the pain, after writing this I realized it wasn’t entirely true and I couldn’t stand the thought of writing it again…so I copying and pasting my own stuff. I will add that every time they started to show ‘the clip’ yesterday, I turned the channel. 20 years and I still can’t watch it. I know Buckner was treated horribly afterward and I know now he capitalizes on it as much as he can…so I hope that has helped him get some peace. Me, I think I need to go watch the dvd of Game 4 of the 2004 ALCS again…
I was 17 in October of ’86…and that night I was at a graduation party for one of my friends (we graduated in May, why the hell did she have the party in October? But I digress…). There were about 20 of us at the Diamond Head restaurant on Route 1, eating Chinese food and watching the game on the tv they had. When it looked like this was going to be the night they won, we all took off and made it back to her house…just in time for that fateful inning. The party ended shortly thereafter. (My most lasting memory was blurting out that I ‘love Jim Rice’ and having some pre-teen cousin or neighbor of my friend respond "but he’s black!")
I watched game 7 alone while the family watched in another room…and I cried with Wade Boggs all night.
Okay, so I do have more to add. Remembering that kid who was surprised that I could ‘love’ a black player makes me cringe. Man, it was 1986 and there were still kids who thought like that? I argued with the kid for a while, and then the drama within the game began and it was forgotten. I wonder where that kid is now?
Digressing again. In that same comment, I mentioned my dad. I’ve mentioned my parents many a time here, they’re my biggest influences in many aspects of my life, including my baseball fandom, but I tend to talk more about my mother than my father. So, because I’m in a bit of a melancholy mood, I’ll reprint what I posted there about my dad. The subject came up because the post I responded to was written by someone who has recently lost his father.
Every time you mention your dad, I get teary. I think of my dad and how much I love him and how much we both enjoy talking baseball. Nothing makes me smile like my dad calling me at work – which he doesn’t usually do because he doesn’t want to get me ‘in trouble’ – to tell me he just watched the Yankees lose an afternoon game at Yankee Stadium with no one in the stands. And I think about how sad it is you can’t do that with your dad any more and how amazing it is that he got to see 2004
On to current baseball! Shame on Fox or MLB or whichever entity decided to hold the fans at the ballpark hostage for over two hours last night. It was obvious to everyone in St Louis that there wouldn’t be a game. I understand it is the World Series, but it wouldn’t have killed to throw those fans a bone.
And get-well wishes to Terry Francona. The day I was going to post about his taking over managerial duties for the team going to Japan (since Ken Macha wasn’t eligible any more) they announce that he WON’T be going to Japan because he’s in the hospital with a foot infection. Tito, you’re way too young to have all this sickness. Take care of yourself!
There’s a possibility of no baseball tonight either. I’m enjoying this series more than I thought, I guess, because the idea of going two nights in a row without baseball is making me cranky!
Have a great day, folks!
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