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Endgame on a High Note

Kevin Youklis and Julio Lugo

I’m content.

At least for today. The best day.

The day after.

Late last night, the Red Sox won the 103d World Series, and, let’s be honest, winning never gets boring. As Red Sox fans, we were bred to take every bad break as an omen for disaster. Today, all these worries have evaporated. Beckett threw Clemens-like heat with Pedro-like skill. Pedroia hit the ball like he was double the size of Richie Sexson. I will always remember Manny on the base paths, chucking his helmet off while running at three-quarter speed, Ortiz crying during the celebration, and Mike Lowell’s impish grin while being presented his MVP award.

These are the 2007 Red Sox, World Champions. And I rooted for them. In November, I started reading the rumors online, I saw us sign the antichrist, J.D. Drew. I saw Lugo adjust his crotch dozens of times against my will. We traded Willy Mo. Coco and Youklis caught everything within twenty feet of them, and I saw every out of Buccholtz’s no-hitter. This team was special. I know there were more people than me who scoured the fine print of the sports section, debating our transactions. They know too.

Out of the league’s thirty-two teams, the Red Sox, again, after four years, are World Champions! Hail, Tito! Long live Red Sox Nation!

When does spring training start again?


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