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Mark Shields is a nationally known columnist and commentator. |
Red Sox, Yankees and John Kerry
WASHINGTON (Creators Syndicate) -- Among the luckiest breaks of my life was to be born and raised in a loving family of Boston Red Sox fans. As a Red Sox fan, you learn early that life will not work out, that the Boss's pampered nephew -- not the deserving night-school graduate -- gets the coveted promotion, that the sweet, freckle-faced girl next door will get passed over for homecoming queen.
Since the end of World War I, the rich, successful and arrogant New York Yankees have been American League champions 39 times and World Champions 26 times. During that same time, the Red Sox have been league champions just four times and never won a World Series. In each of the last seven years, Boston has finished second in the American League East and the Yankees have finished first. Yet, despite the highest ticket prices of any team, Boston fans, among the most loyal of God's creatures, have each year set a new attendance record.
The Red Sox were the 98-pound weakling having sand kicked on them by the muscle-bound beach bullies from New York. But that all changed at 12:01 a.m. on Oct. 21, 2004, in New York, when Boston's underdogs became the first team in baseball playoff history to come back from a 3-0 deficit to win four consecutive games.
It was a night I shall never forget and always treasure. Inside Yankee Stadium, the Red Sox team hugged and celebrated on the field, and then hugged some more while hundreds of Red Sox fans, huddled together in the stands behind their team's dugout, high-fived each other or took congratulatory calls on their cell-phones. It was like V-J day.
Many of us there were thinking about family and friends and favorite players, now gone, who had endured so much disappointment and pain at the hands of these Yankees and wishing they could feel what we were now feeling. Which was a sense of liberation. An enormous emotional weight had been lifted. The Red Sox and we were no longer losers. We could not stop smiling. We looked like a Hare Krishna class picture.
And for good reason: The Yankees inspire a pure, clean hatred. Bill Veeck, a man of intellect and character (unlike so many baseball owners), spoke for a majority: "Hating the Yankees isn't part of my act; it is one of those exquisite times when life and art are in perfect conjunction." Writer Bill Mead put it well: "Most all good Americans hate the Yankees. It is a value we cherish and pass on to our children like decency, and democracy and the importance of a good breakfast." Why? Mead was asked: "They're spoiled rotten. They think they're such Hot Stuff. Their owner is obnoxious. Their fans are gross and crude."
In this Age of Indifference, this Era Of Nonchalance, it is the mystery and the magic of baseball that it can still make us care so passionately. This un-action-packed sport, basically unchanged since the 19th century, commands our affection and attention in the frenetic Blackberry, instant messaging, TiVo present. Baseball is about anticipation and possibility. The great catch or the clutch hit or the goat turning into the hero is always only an inning away.
So what does it mean in this tightest of presidential election years? Because the St. Louis Cardinals beat the Houston Astros and will face the Red Sox in the World Series, we won't have the Massachusetts-Texas showdown. Missouri is a battleground state where President Bush, by tilting to the Cardinals, might win some support.
As for John Kerry, Red Sox fans are everywhere, which might be good. But one Red Sox fan who is a Democrat was asked by his wife, a passionately committed Kerry supporter, which was more important to him: the Red Sox winning the Word Series or John Kerry winning the White House. His answer: "You really don't want me to answer that question."
If John Kerry could secure the enthusiastic endorsements of Red Sox heroes David Ortiz, Curt Schilling and Johnny Damon in the next 10 days and the Red Sox win, then it might be just enough.
