Listen…

Last night may very well have been the single most important event in the history of professional sports. To be truthful, the only other moment I can think of, in recent memory at least, may have been the 1980 U.S. hockey team winning the gold medal in the Olympics. The question uttered that night that has since echoed in the minds of sports fans everywhere, now legendary in the annals of history…

“Do you believe in miracles?”

I’m a Red Sox fan. What do you think?

Last night marked the end of a dark era, and with this kind of momentum, the beginning of a new one. The Sox have been inching closer and closer to the World Series over the past five years, and it was only a matter of time before they succeeded in qualifying for the first time since 1986.

’86… 86 years since their last World Series win. And last night, the 86’d the curse. Plain and simple.

Last night, the longest tale of woe in sports history came to a blissful end when the ultimate underdogs of the baseball world made history once again.

First team to ever come from behind a 3-0 game deficit in the postseason. First team to ever win 8 consecutive games in the postseason. And finally, the first Red Sox line up to win the World Series in four score and six years. That, my friends, deserves commendation, regardless of who you root for.

Yankees fans, sit down. We need to talk. You played well at first, and I would be hard-pressed to ever take away anything from the talent your team possesses. I will never cheer them, but I do appreciate the skill the players exhibit, particularly Derek Jeter. I am not ashamed to admit that. Doesn’t mean he’s on my Christmas list.

And you know, that is how it should be. That is what a true rivalry should be about: equal parts disdain and respect. I may hate the Yankees with a passion, but I will always respect what they have accomplished. To the more arrogant Yanks fans, I would hope you can do the same for the Red Sox. All week long, I’ve been hearing the Cardinals had the Sox number, that the ghost of the Bambino would rise by All Hallows’ Eve. That the Sox would never win, ever.

I now invite you all to collectively pull your foot from your mouth that you may feast upon your own vindictive words.

Listen…

The “curse,” if there ever was one, is over. Admit it. Lose your pride for one minute and just give credit where credit is due, rather than fester in your self-made pool of envy and hatred. Don’t tell us that we don’t deserve this. Don’t tell us that it’ll be another 80-some-odd years before it happens again. Don’t deal with our victory by trying to stir the pot of loathing even more. I already detailed about this time last year how you have no inkling of what pain as a sports fan really is. Please don’t prove in your words and deeds that you are also devoid of dignity and sportsmanship.

I heard one person tell me the Red Sox have now lost their baseball identity. What identity, pray tell, is that? Eternal underdog? The team doomed to come within a hair’s inch of victory just before having it dashed away? Let me ask you something, why would we be proud of that identity? Why would we cherish that identity? Just because you are proud of the fact that Big George packs on the superstar pounds each year by shelling out tons of money for baseball’s luminaries (this is true, don’t you dare deny it) doesn’t mean we have to be proud of the fact that we have had the worst bad luck streak as fans in the history of the sport.

So if we have lost this identity, I am glad. In fact, I’m frickin’ ecstatic.

The lease is up on Ruth’s curse. Deal with it. In fact, for all you know, he may have had a change of heart after befriending Ted Williams in Heaven. Maybe the curse has reversed toward your team now. Just maybe. Maybe you’re doomed to another 86 years before you reach the pinnacle again. Maybe it’s our time to shine.

Then again, maybe not. Who are we to predict the future with such gross arrogance, just for the sake of provoking our rivals? Why must we be so venomous? I have long abandoned those ways, and it’s high time that many on both sides of the coin do the same. Why must we forsake sportsmanship in the name of competition? The answer is now clear: we shouldn’t.

One friend put it perfectly in his away message this morning: “Congratulations to all the true Red Sox fans, you deserve it. To all you bandwagon jumpers… you know who you are.”

And this is coming from one of the purest, most loyal Yankees fans I know. His entire family is from New York, he goes to as many of the Yanks’ postseason games as he can each year (and that’s a hike, considering he goes to Villanova), he was even at Game 7 last week when the Sox topped the Yanks to advance. That is dedication. And even then, he was offering words of congratulations to us enthused Sox fans. That is respect. It is OK to have both. It won’t kill you. It won’t make you less of a fan or less of a person. In fact, it will up your stock in both departments. You should give it a try; it’s very refreshing.

Listen…

Let me tell you a story. I knew a man in my youth who was perhaps the biggest Red Sox fan you could ever hope to meet. We used to go on church trips to Yankee stadium, and it would seem he was the only one wearing his Boston hat. He wore it proudly. Bravely. Unashamedly. I remember one year, the Yanks won after some little kids ran out in the field in the bottom of the ninth. This caused a freeze on the game, despite Boston’s would-be game-winning fly ball out. He was infuriated, and rightfully so. The Yanks came from behind and won, all because of the actions of a few very obnoxious fans.

The next week, we had our annual church tag sale. Danny came across a tall Yankees glass. The irritation still fresh in his memory, he bought it, took it in the kitchen in back, tossed it into an empty trashcan, and shattered it with a broomstick. He left it on a paper plate under a paper towel with a note to my father to look underneath.

My father is an interesting creature. He appreciates baseball for what it is, and while he follows the Yankees and the Red Sox, he does not lean toward either team. In an age of such fierce emotions, he comes across as a bipartisan enigma, though at this time in the story, he was poking fun at Danny over the loss. Needless to say, he got a laugh when he pulled up the towel and saw the shattered remnants of that drinking glass.

Danny truly bled everything Bosox. He passed away eight years ago last month of a sudden heart attack. He was buried with a Red Sox hat by his head. All I can think of his how much he would’ve loved to see this moment, and how much I wish he were here to share it with us all. Of course, where he is now, he can celebrate this momentous occasion with Ted Williams himself, so I think he may be one up on us all.

Listen…

I know another friend who turned 17 in the wee hours of October 21st, the day the Sox won game seven over the Yanks in the ALCS. He was born in 1987, and had never even seen the 1986 Sox-Mets Series. He had only heard the legends. For him, this is a treat of immeasurable magnitude. Sunday night, he is going out for Halloween dressed as Johnny Damon. His friend is taking a cue from Team America and painting his face brown and applying fake facial hair so he can be Manny Ramirez. For them, this is a dream come true.

It is a dream come true for all of the faithful. You have to be raised in New England to understand what this means. Generations have gone by without seeing this. My late grandfather was a mere four years old the last time this happened. There are two generations in my house who have never seen it.

This is a time to rejoice. This is a time to celebrate. This is a time to soak up the victory that has for so very long eluded the faithful. It finally happened, and no naysayer will ever be able to take this away from us.

The Boston Red Sox are the 2004 World Series Champions. The best team in baseball today. This is Red October. And it feels oh-so wonderful.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow… I know I will.