World Series Eve

A funny thing happened three years ago. Here's to hoping it happens again.

And something that sums it all up pretty nicely in an op ed piece to the NY Times of all places.

Death to the Underdog
By Will Leitch

Through it all, almost every Red Sox fan I’ve ever met has just wanted to be normal.

I’m not talking about the bandwagon jumpers of the last few years, the so-called “Pink Hat” fans who think Luis Tiant is the name of an ocean liner, treat Yawkey Way merely as a place to meet particularly inebriated coeds and totally understand how Jimmy Fallon feels, man.

I’m talking about the lifers, the ones who have surrendered their summer New England nights to the rhythms of Troy O’Leary and Lou Merloni. These are not fans who ever believed in the stupid “Curse of the Bambino” or held the fatalistic notion that their team was some sort of doomed stepsister of history. They were not interested in dopey, staged promotions like “President of Red Sox Nation.” They grimaced when Ben Affleck, Tim Russert and Renee Zellweger started showing up at games and giving between-innings interviews. None of that ever meant anything to them. They just wanted to watch their team win, because that’s what fans do.

The history of the Boston Red Sox has always been so fraught with high-minded, scholarly dissertations on what the Red Sox “mean” that the pure joy of being a fan of the best team in baseball has almost been lost. I suspect last night’s Game 7 victory over the Indians, clinching the Red Sox’ second World Series trip in four years, will help change that.

Red Sox fans have taken to calling the 2007 season “The Possible Dream,” as opposed to the unofficial “Impossible Dream” moniker of 1967. This is telling; the Red Sox are no longer the scrappy underdogs attempting to overcome the evil empire of the Yankees. They are no longer measured by their relation to a rival, or to history. They are simply the most well-run, successful franchise in baseball right now, a team that wins through heart, determination and relentless talent.

The truest fans do not care about anything but their team winning; another World Series victory wouldn’t erase the memories of 2004 (not that anyone would want it to), but it will be one final step to finally burying that overblown classification of a condemned franchise. The Red Sox will simply be champions, and that will be more than enough.

Red Sox fans don’t have to be participants in some sort of Greek tragedy anymore. Being a fan is not a three-act play. To win via magic is glorious. To win via sustained, lasting dominance is sublime. The Red Sox might win the World Series, and they might not, but now they’re just another outstanding baseball team, rather than epic heroes in some sort of Sisyphean quest.

They’re a great baseball team. This is what real Red Sox fans have wanted all along.