 Bases loaded, Benoit in. Big Papi up. Blurred for the dream that it was. by Joe Bandini One year ago today, my brother and I sat thirteen rows up into the Fenway Park bleachers behind the Boston bullpen with the Red Sox having been one hit in Game 1 of the ALCS and being thoroughly silenced again through 7 1/2 innings down 5-1. The mood was nothing short of gloomy and depressing with 40,000 people knowing that a two game deficit going back to Detroit to face Tiger Ace Justin Verlander was a death sentence to any hope of going to the World Series. After a double and a walk, the thought that David Ortiz could come up with the bases loaded and the first real opportunity to make it a series could arise entered everyone's thoughts. That perfect scenario arose with the nerve-wracking drama being extended as the Tigers Joaquin Benoit slowly trotted in for this crucial moment. Something that seemed so possible yet so unfathomable was on everyone's mind. Suddenly, within one pitch, it played out more incredibly than any of the millions of different versions which were being scripted in the minds of anyone watching. I remember seeing that low flying missile off the bat coming toward our direction making its uncertain path toward the bullpen while noticing gold-glover Torii Hunter making his late entrance into the scene. I knew it had a chance, I knew it could be caught; hit hard enough, but not far enough to be certain. Waiting... hoping... TIE GAME! Pandemonium. Ortiz rounded the bases. I screamed. I yelled like a girl. I cursed like a sailor. I stood on the top of my seat and surrounding seats for a good minute and a half screaming, yelling at fans behind me while attempting high fives and fist bumps. I could not believe what just happened. |
This was undoubtedly the most electrifying moment I have ever experienced. I was still standing on my seat celebrating while barely aware that Torii Hunter was being attended to for injuries, or that pitch hitter Mike Napoli had come into the game to pinch hit and was in the middle of an at bat (I finally looked back to see the final swing of this at bat, not even realizing the game had continued). Fenway Park was on its feet and buzzing well into the next half inning. We had 17 innings of pent up frustration of watching the Sox bats be silenced with nothing to cheer for and no hope. Within one half inning, and one gigantic swing of the bat, David Ortiz awakened the team and its fans from the dead. Fenway went from funeral to absolute bedlam.
Without this moment, the Red Sox undoubtedly lose this series and don't even sniff seeing St. Louis in the World Series. So while 10/30/13 will always be in my head as the date I stood and watched the Red Sox win their first World Series at Fenway Park since 1918, 10/13/13 will always be the other date from the magical 2013 season that stands out in my mind. One never happens without the other.
Without this moment, the Red Sox undoubtedly lose this series and don't even sniff seeing St. Louis in the World Series. So while 10/30/13 will always be in my head as the date I stood and watched the Red Sox win their first World Series at Fenway Park since 1918, 10/13/13 will always be the other date from the magical 2013 season that stands out in my mind. One never happens without the other.
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