Picket Fence Post

I was so disgusted at one point last night by the lackluster, not-even-there performance of the beloved Olde Towne Team, that I was planning to rip down my hand-lettered ”GO SOX” signs that I placed in my front windows the morning after they clinched a playoff berth. It looked like a lock for the Tampa Bay Rays to punch their ticket to the World Series.

Despondent over seeing that my team was down 7-0 in the 7th, I turned on the 11 o’clock news and heard the news anchors say that it was sadly the end of the road. Then the sports anchor, standing outside of Fenway Park, put his hand to his ear, as raucous cheers were coming out of the ballpark. Someone from the station had just informed him via his earpiece that Big Papi had just hit a three-run homer.

The Spouse and I turned the game back on and stayed riveted until the end, when the Sox eeked out an 8-7 win to live to see another playoff game. (The biggest playoff comeback since 1929, according to the Associated Press. The year of another massive stock market crash.)

Another comeback. When the Sox were down and counted out by many. Last year they were down, three games to 1 to the Cleveland Indians in the American League Championship Series. In 2004, they were down, three games to 1 to the New York Yankees in the American League Championship Series. I’m beginning to think that the Sox don’t do well unless their backs are against the wall and they’re considered underdogs. They need that as a motivator.

“You’ve got to believe,” one of the kids remarked this morning, in a “duh” kind of moment. (I don’t remember which kid said it as I wasn’t fully awake and hadn’t yet had my java.)

My laptop computer — the one on which I’m writing this post — was several months old in 2004, back when the Sox made history. During that intensely wild Yankees-Sox playoff series, I downloaded the word “Believe,” with the “B” at the beginning styled like the Sox “B.” That word has been my computer’s background ever since. I see it every time I use my computer. And despite that and despite the framed newspaper front page I have in my office telling the glorious tale of the 2004 World Series Sox win, I, like the rest of Red Sox Nation, sometimes need a reminder:

Believe.

Now that the Red Sox have disposed of the Angels in the American League Division Series in dramatic fashion, we can look forward to American League Championship Series games being played on East Coast time, not West Coast 10 p.m. hell.

Between those LA playoff games that stretched until the wee hours of the morning and the 9 p.m. presidential/vice presidential debates (and the post-debate analysis I watch until late), I’ve been running on some serious Dunkin’ (and other caffeinated goodness) these days. But to be honest, Sunday night’s game in Boston ran late as well, and it didn’t end as nicely as tonight’s contest.

Bring on the Rays. I wish we could also bring on Rem-Dog and Orsillo from NESN. Those TBS guys are just terrible and that guy with the hideous, retina-destroying jackets makes me crazy.

Image credit: AP/Charles Krupa.