Monday, October 17, 2005
"Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more."
We had one more shot. So we put on our battle gear and our game faces, carried with us whatever magical totems we could muster, and did all we could with the only weapons allowed to us-- our thunderstix and our voices.
Winning the series was only an outside possibility, but winning the game seemed do-able. Failing that, playing like we were capable of seemed a sort of vindication. I wanted to make a last stand, and do it with style and pride. I also knew that each and every additional game we could last in the post-season was one more game that Jeff would suit up as a Halo. And I wanted that.
I will forever carry with me a piece of real anger over the officiating in this series. I suspect it may be the start of what turns me into a cantankerous woman.
For the first 5 innings, our old friend hope was in the building. It was like old times, and was a glorious thing to see.
Somewhere around the 7th and 8th innings, I seriously thought I was going to throw up.
By the 9th I had come around to a sad resignation. And I held onto my tears, content that the sky was weeping for me.
The post-season is unforgiving, and we just couldn't hold it together for another second. No one was hitting. Our starting pitching came in somewhere between slightly shaky and completely shaky. And the bullpen was over-used, tired, and done for. Figgins, Vlad, Finley... I showed up for each game of the post-season, I wish you could have done the same. Mike, I read a disturbing thing the other day, I read that you were creating the line-up that you thought would put the best defense on the field. I don't know much, but even I know that in baseball, you make defensive sacrifices in order to get the offense that you need. So I'm not real sure what to think of you. And to Bill and Arte, if during the 2006 season, we are once again barely in first place, and not a well-rounded totally together team, and you don't make some sort of move/trade/whatever, then I'll be left assuming you want us to be the Atlanta of the West. And that sucks. Because if we had a totally crap year, then at least we could hope to get better seats in the next season ticket holder sprint.
By tomorrow, most of my sadness will be gone. I grew up in Illinois, in corn and cow country and spent more time in Chicago during and after college than I've yet to clock here. No matter how many hundreds of Angel games I go to, I'll always have a part of me that is pulling for Chicago.
Now I am freed from that dissonance. And I'll be rooting for the Sox all the way. I hope you win it all, as you should. Go Sox!! "Onward you Chicagoans and teach them how to war!"
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