Right. So. We won. We won a whole lot and I can't think of a thing to say. It's just so overwhelming.
Anji (who, as I mentioned last night, called me after the game; what I did not mention is that she is a Yankees fan and she called to congratulate me. I love classy Yankees fans) suggests "YAY," which is an excellent start. So.
YAY.
So much history has been made in this postseason. First Major League team to come back from a 3-0 deficit to win a postseason series. Longest winning streak ever (eight, beating out the seven from several other teams, including the Yankees).
And . . . of course . . . the first Red Sox World Series win in eighty-six years. That's - that's long. Fans have been born, lived their lives, and died without ever seeing their team win it all. I've read so many stories of older relatives who died, often fairly recently, missing this win by
thatmuch. I am so honoured to have seen all this happen, and so relieved that my dad and my grandfather have seen it too.
And I am
so proud of my boys. Tek and Curt and Manny and Pedro and Bellhorn and Mientkiewicz (I think I got it right that time!) and Foulkie and Johnny and Big Papi and Trot and Mueller and Kevin and D-Lowe and Bronson and Theo and Terry and more people than I can possibly remember right now. You guys did it. You played, you managed, and you bled in some of the finest baseball ever played. I love you all.
Now there's just the tiny matter of revamping the entire image of the franchise and the fans. We're no longer the little guys who fight hard and cheer hard and believe hard and still get repeatedly stomped on by Fate in the cruelest manner she can devise. Who are we now? Who the hell knows? Right now, let's just be the winners for a while. We can rebuild later.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}