.:Dreams and Swords:.

23 Years

The Anaheim Angels beat the Boston Red Sox in a 5-0 shutout yesterday.

The playoff game was probably the last one I'll see this season. It was truly amazing to be and experience something that hasn't happened in over twenty-three years. The crowd was wild, the stadium seats covered in red, cheering at the top of their lungs, standing on their feet whenever the plays got close and pitcher took down another player.

The thing about this game is the fact that I went with my father. There are men in the world who come home from war with stories of their haunting past or police officers with tales of the one that got away. They pass them down to their kids, telling them in odd moments when the trigger for the memory is activating. The loss back in 1986 to the Red Sox is my father's war story.

Since I was a kid he'd told me about the night the Angels gave up their lead in the devastation of the last inning to the Sox, losing the World Series. He reminisced about the black and white television he watched it on, the pain of seeing his favorite team in the world succumb to such tragedy, fueling a new-found hate for Boston. "If only," he say. The pitcher of that game, Danny Moore (I think), took his life after that game. "The game has causalities."

Last night was a vindication not only for my dad, and the entire Angels' fan base, but for a pitcher by the name of John Lackey. This is his third attempt at beating Boston during a playoff game, each time before the Sox just getting out from under him to bring the loss. It wasn't that he wasn't good - he simply wasn't enough to get ahead. This has plagued him for a while, but to comeback with a shutout on the first game is fucking amazing! The applause and ovation afterward was like an inspirational movie - I spotted a few tears from fans, even felt the "chill" of the moment myself.

All in all, I think the Angels have a shot at winning the title. Especially if they can keep up the heat the way they did last night. Its surprising how beautiful the game truly is. There are components that inspire intricate individualistic intentions as well as all players moving like a well-oiled machine. Baseball is like a dance. It takes time and patience, but once everything moves together you see something spectacular.

I would wax on more about the awesomeness of baseball, yet, sadly, time does not permit me at this time. Still, it was fucking awesome to be there in the flesh to see history. Now if they could only keep it up...