The Boston Red Sox: Defenders of the 2004 World Championship!! "Whoever plunges into his experiences with the momentum of hope, will remember so that he cannot forget." - Soren Kierkegaard.

Wednesday, October 06, 2004

"Here, stir this for me," I tell Kevin, handing him a small saucepot of verjus reduction into which I've been slowly mounting butter, "I have to take that phone call." The phone across the aisle from us was on it's third ring, and somehow I just knew. I pick up the greasy receiver. "Maisonette kitchen, this is Sarah speaking," I say.
"Do you want to know what's going on?" It's Mike calling from home, just as I expected it to be. "Oooohhh, I don't know," I stammer. First of all, just by virtue of Mike wanting to tell me what's happening it means that the Sox are winning. If they're losing, he usually says something totally discouraging like "Don't bother hurrying home." So I ponder for a quick second and say "Ya, go ahead and tell me."
"They just blew it wide open, it's 5-0 Sox in the fourth inning, and Schilling's only given up two hits." A wave of sweet relief spreads through me. But all I can get out of my mouth is "Cool. I'll be home soon." I hang up, go back to my station where Kevin and Frakes, the sous chef, are standing. I hold an imaginary red foam bat in my hands over my head and start thrusting my hips at it in imitation of what can only be described as Pedro's "Victory Hump" from a couple months ago. "I take it they're winning," Frakes says with his usual deadpan expression. "Five to nothing in the fourth, Schill's given up two hits." Kevin tries to start in with his typical Red Sox haterism about how it's still early in the game and two hits in four innings is nothing to be proud of but I blissfully ignore him.
By the time I finish getting the station set up, go upstairs to change, walk home and stop by the corner store for a 22 of Newcastle, it's the bottom of the sixth inning. 8-0 now...I didn't have to wait too long to see that first Manny homer, huh??? I heart Manny Ramírez.
One win down, two more to go.
My boy Petey is on the hill tonight. I really, really, really want him to come out and prove everyone wrong. I can't stand the thought of him as a beaten man, a fallen hero. I can't walk around shoe-gazing about it anymore. Plus, having the team return to Fenway with a 2-0 lead would be HUGE. And since the game starts at 10:00 tonight I'll be able to watch it live on the big screen TV at the bar upstairs with my co-workers, and I'd rather it be a fun game to watch, not one that will make me wake up crying tomorrow.