Foreword
Success in sport throughout New England is as common as a Robert Frost poem in the autumn. Often times, the elusive championships that come with the Patriots, Bruins, Celtics, or Red Sox are like the beacon of a lighthouse during a Nor’easter. As a die-hard fan of these teams, my experiences during the past fifteen years have created some memories that I will keep forever. Whether it is lining the streets of Beantown to watch duck boats pour by or standing in America’s oldest ballpark on a summer night, I have been privileged to witness such sporting success in my region. Sometimes, the success to which I witnessed was represented by regionally unity or perseverance, as in the case of the 2013 Boston Red Sox. That team embraced their city and united their followers even in the saddest of times. Regardless of the circumstances, the following episode of triumph has shaped my experiences within sports and have helped make me who I am today.
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The sun heralded over the small coastal Maine town on a crisp April morning. After all, it was Patriots’ Day, a holiday celebrated only there and Massachusetts which commemorated Paul Revere’s midnight ride. But it was also Marathon Monday, an annual sign of hope springs eternal in New England, when the entire running world would descend upon Boston. As I walked around my hometown of Belfast that morning, I couldn’t help but feel excited about the coming day’s events. First, a morning to relax, grab a Dunkin’ Donuts Coolatta, and enjoy the coming of the new season. Then, my high school baseball team would have one of our first outdoor practices of the season. The agenda for that Monday morning in April seemed perfect, a constant reminder that spring was on the way.
Following practice, around three o’clock that afternoon, a couple of the guys from the team and I were soliciting sponsors for our baseball program. We walked into Rollie’s Bar and Grille, the iconic sports bar in my hometown. Before we could even ask the hostess or the manager for their financial support, my friends and I noticed the horrific scene unfolding on live television. The TV’s in Rollie’s that were once broadcasting the Boston Marathon were now focusing on another matter. Within the past fifteen minutes, two explosions had taken place in the city of Boston, along Boylston Street close to the finish line. We couldn’t believe the current situation, and even though we were three and a half hours north of the events, there was still that uneasy feeling creeping over us. Over 250 people were injured, three dead, and close five thousand runners still had not finished the race. The shining city on a hill was in chaos and disarray.
When my friends and I returned to school to put away our gear and receive our uniforms for the season, our coach had the news on in his classroom. It was more of the same: interviews with eye-witnesses, FBI announcements, and even a briefing by President Obama. The entire world was finding out about these senseless acts of terrorism. Local, state, and national law enforcement pledged to find out who was responsible for the bombings and hold them accountable for their actions. As we all discovered, it would be no easy task to find the individuals, making the need for perseverance, unity, and triumph even more important. Throughout the week, the news coverage and FBI briefings were nearly constant. When the suspects were identified and later accused of a homicide, the police ordered that Boston and the surrounding areas remain on lockdown until the remaining suspect was found. On Friday, four days after the initial bombing, the radical Islamist Chechen national was found and taken into custody.
~~~
As the weeks passed following the tragedy, the people of Boston and across New England seemed to rally together in unity. One night, in the Boston Bruin’s first home hockey game since the bombings, the entire crowd sang the national anthem in unison, without the help of a musician. Listening to the crowd that night on television gave me chills, and it still does whenever I hear it. The Boston Red Sox, arguably the most iconic of the professional sports franchises, added a patch to their uniforms that simply read, “Boston Strong.” The motto became the rallying cry for the region and as Spring progressed, both the Bruins and the Red Sox continued their success on the back of the city. Though the Bruins eventually were defeated in the Stanley Cup playoffs, the Red Sox were able to win their division and clinch a playoff berth.
I had the privilege of witnessing the Red Sox resilience during a game that summer in August. They were arguably the best team in baseball at that time, due in part to their rallying around the city of Boston. That night, they trailed the Seattle Mariners 7-1 in the bottom of the ninth inning. Knowing we had a long drive ahead, and that is was getting late, my dad was interested in possibly getting an early start on Boston traffic and heading home.
“Don’t you think we should get a head start on the ride back?” he said. “The Sox are trailing pretty bad.”
“Come on dad,” I replied. “You never know what can happen. These guys have battled all summer long.”
“Alright, we’ll give it a shot. If they can get runners on base, let’s stick around. If Nava gets out, and Lavarnway gets out, then we’ll probably have to leave Will.”
“We got this dad.” I said, as he smiled back at me.
Daniel Nava led off the inning with a walk, followed by base hits from Ryan Lavarnway and Brock Holt. With the gap between the Mariners and Red Sox closing, and with still nobody out in the inning, my dad and I were happy we stayed to watch the Red Sox make a comeback. The Red Sox would add four more hits and five more runs from then on; two of which coming again from Daniel Nava and Jonny Gomes respectively. Both of these players were nearly disregarded by the rest of Major League Baseball at the beginning of their careers, but now, they would play key elements in the fabric of a legendary Red Sox comeback. Gomes fought all the way back from an 0-2 count - eventually bringing the count to 3-2 – before lacing a belt high fastball to tie the game. After the next batter was walked, Daniel Nava approached the plate. Everyone at Fenway Park knew that with less than two outs and the bases loaded, nearly any batted ball could score the winning run from third. I turned to my dad, with my phone camera ready to capture the moment.
“You ready for this or what?!” I asked.
“Let’s go buddy!” he yelled.
Fenway Park stood as one, and the pitcher delivered the first pitch to Nava.
Crack!
Nava crushed the ball deep to center field over the outfielder’s head. The ball landed against the wall and the winning run scored easily. Ball game over. Red Sox win.
The crowd went crazy. Those who stayed, like my father and I, were part of a unique pandemonium in the city that night. Shirtless men with paint on their torso cheered in the concourse. Twenty-something girls with pink hats basked in the joy. Little kids laughed and grinned with glee. Many of us were familiar with what had happened four months earlier, but our favorite baseball team had given us hope. No longer was the city and its fans in disarray and sorrow. We were one city, one region, and one nation. We had rallied around the resiliency of our teams and our heroes.
As my father and I drove out of Beantown that night, up Route 1 to the coast of Maine, we had a feeling we would be back, back to see the city of Boston in celebration once again.
~~~
Three months later, the Boston Red Sox won their third World Series championship in nine seasons. Once a team “cursed” by their past, they were now one of the more dominant franchises of the 21st Century. The Band of Bearded Brothers, as they were often called because of their facial hair tradition, were once again on top of the baseball world. They closed out the St. Louis Cardinals in game six at Fenway Park, clinching the World Series at home in Boston for the first time in ninety-five years. Additionally, they happened to do so on the day I obtained my driver’s license. Needless to say I was a happy sixteen-year-old.
To no surprise of those who knew my father and I and our shared love of baseball, the two of us traveled back down to Boston for the rolling rally parade, just as we predicted. The weather for an early November day in Boston was fantastic – close to sixty-five degrees and sunny. Then Red Sox pitcher Jake Peavy said, “The Big Man Upstairs gave us this glorious weather just for today.”
Some news broadcasters from WBZ and NESN suggested that close to three million people lined the city of Boston to view the parade. My dad and I were on the corner on Ipswich and Boylston Streets, about a block away from Fenway and adjacent to the long corridor near where the Marathon finished. The first people to leave Fenway and begin the parade were Boston’s Police Officers and First Responders, and they received tremendous ovations. The team followed through the streets as well, packed into Boston’s iconic amphibious duck boats. Fans cheered loudly for players like Daniel Nava, Dustin Pedroia, MVP David Ortiz, and Koji Uehara,
However, the loudest ovation came at the Marathon finish line, where the parade came to a halt. Jonny Gomes and Jarrod Saltalamacchia got out of the duck boats with the World Series trophy and brought it down to the finish line. They placed the trophy on the ground and draped a “Boston (617) Strong” Red Sox jersey over the trophy. Everyone paused in a moment of solitude before cheering at what they had just witnessed. It symbolized the resilience of the city. Triumph over tragedy. The same street block that was once battered with innocent bloodshed and fear was now cleansed with the unity and brotherhood from a team and their success. Maybe the hurt was still noticeable, but the hope was everlasting. This was our – city, and nobody was going to dictate our freedom.
~~~
As successful as teams often are in this area of the country, triumph and resilience remain more important than any record or ring. The 2013 Boston Red Sox overcame all odds, coming back from large deficits to win games, and capturing a world championship after being in last place the year before. Ultimately, however, the Red Sox did something even more special; they united a city amidst its darkest hour and created a beacon of hope for those who needed it. Boston revolutionary hero Samuel Adams once said that “It does not take a majority to prevail, but rather an irate, tireless minority.” The people of New England joined as one behind their teams, and together they prevailed as champions and proved that sport has the power to unite people. After all, we are “Boston Strong.”
