I honestly have yet to see the Cardinals celebration. Once Motte threw the final pitch to clinch the game, I stood up, turned off the television, and went to bed. Not one friend called or texted me. Not one person tweeted me. Probably because we were all thinking the same thing. This was the worst of times.
We thought we had seen it all. Four managers in a span of nine days. An MVP for a last place team. Huge contracts handed out to wastes of space. But nothing could compare to game 6. Even as game 7 got underway, I was in a nostalgic state. And when it came to an end, it was like I wasn’t even sure what I was witnessing. Game 6 still haunted me. But you know what? Having said all that, there’s still a sense of hope once we all recover.
I worked in retail during college. A bank was located inside of the store, towards the entrance. A hot girl worked as an associate there and used to come over to my department and pester me to open an account with her. Eventually, as she continued to show up on my side of the store more and more, I went over to her counter to sign up. And all because she was hot.
You know how the rest of the story goes. A couple nights out here, a few drinks there, and then we never talked again. But that flash in the pan kind of relationship isn’t the Rangers (unless you’re like 99% of Heat fans and only started rooting for the team when they began winning. And if that’s the case, shame on you).
The Rangers are more like our children. We witnessed them enter this life (when the Senators moved and became the organization we have now), have a bit of trouble potty training (the whole Yost, Hodges, Herzog, Wilber manager snafu as mentioned before), meet their best friend (pick one: Hough, Oates, Ryan, Pudge, Young), graduate high school (division winners in 96), discover drugs in college (inking Chan Ho Park to a 5 year, $65 million deal), earn their degree (Cliff Lee deal), meet their future wife (first world series appearance), and buy a house (second world series appearance). Now we sit back and wait for that grandchild which we all plan to love eternally (a championship).
Sure, we had a scare (one strike away…twice), but the inevitable is coming. When it happens is a whole different conversation in itself, but the future has been laid out.
During this magical run we had our highs (Cruz walk-off grand slam) and our lows (game 6. Ugh). And who knows, once we move forward we can probably even look back and say that game six was THE greatest game in World Series history .
But for now, we await the arrival of our grandchild.
For now, we turn off our televisions and wait until next season.