It's 2090 Already?

Yeah, Okay

I believe Jose said it best when he opened his World Series Keys with this:

It is 2090 already?

Dear God how the time’s gone by. Jose will confess he is still a little surprised to be alive at 114, but modern medicine is pretty amazing stuff. He’s even more surprised to still be working in the same job for the same pay.

Wait… What day is it? What day is it??? You out there, what is the date?

It’s October 29? But of what year?

2007? Then… But how… that would mean… The New York Daily News was wrong? How can that be? We’re talking about the New York Daily News and they assured, they assured us all on October 28, 2004 that the Red Sox wouldn’t win another World Series until 2090, another 86 year drought.

Jose looks forward to the correction.

Yes, folks, believe it: the Boston Red Sox have won a second World Series title this century. And it only took them four years to do it. Sorry to disappoint you cursemongers in the audience.

There was no sense of entitlement. There was no simple relaxation and confidence. We are Red Sox fans. We do not relax, we are rarely confident, and when we try either of those things, it tends to bite us in the collective ass. We are a wary bunch of people, haunted by decades of "this is our year" followed by "wait 'til next year." Lather, rinse, repeat. In the spring, we wondered if our new Japanese imports would perform, if our rookie second baseman would ever get over the Mendoza Line, who would closer would be, and if Schilling would lose his hibernation weight. We collectively banged our heads on our desks when we lost the season opener in Kansas City (yes, that Kansas City). Because we are Red Sox fans.

I think this shows better than anything how dedicated the true Red Sox fan is. A life of cautious optimism coupled with crushing defeat isn't exactly fun, but dammit, we love our boys and we'll stick by them through thick and thin, through Jimy Williams and Grady Little, through trading Nomar and acquiring Eric Gagne. We may be generally hopeless as a bunch, but we are strong and we are there for them.

This -- 2007 -- gives us hope and some measure of confidence. We must see now that we have an ownership group that not only has baseball operations experience, but love for the game itself; John Henry grew up a Cardinals fan, for which I personally forgive him. We have a front office that usually spends that money intelligently. We have a field manager who sometimes makes weird decisions and has an all-too-strong dedication to some of his veterans, but who, more often than not, makes the right move and has an uncanny knack for postseason management. This is incredible, isn't it? We might see a few more of these before we die.

Ignore those pseudojournalists who are calling the Red Sox "the new Yankees" and variations on that theme. The Red Sox are not the Yankees; they are two separate entities. Do not feel bad that your team is willing to spend money; it isn't your fault that Jeffrey Loria is a cheapskate or that Tom Hicks can't spend his own money correctly. That's their problem, not yours. The Red Sox have a strong farm system sprinkled among a solid group of free agent signings and trade acquisitions that has served them well. There is nothing wrong with spending money, there is nothing in spending money that makes one team morally inferior to another, and in Boston, spending money on free agents is simply in addition to spending it on the farm system, not instead of it. If there's one example that Yankees fans can set for you, it's that having a thick skin is important. Let it roll off your back; enjoy the fruits of your team's hard work.

As to this particular World Series...

I went into this fearing a disaster. The Rockies won 21 of 22 through the end of the NLCS and were absolutely pounding opposing pitchers. I knew, of course, that the Phillies and Diamondbacks did not boast pitching staffs as strong as Boston's, but a team on a hot streak is still pretty dangerous. All I wanted was the Rockies to lose a couple of games, but what I really wanted was to win a second title and shut up the morons who have been screaming about 2090 for four years. Cautious optimism -- I'm a Red Sox fan.

I think I was right in having this attitude. I'm superstitious about baseball. Not only am I rally-cap superstitious, and not only am I sit-in-one-place-during-a-no-hitter superstitious, but I have other superstitions. I do not taunt other fans in October, not even playfully, because I do not wish to tempt the wrath of the whatever from high atop the thing. I refuse to buy any championship gear until after the season ends because if, for example, I bought an ALCS shirt, I would feel like I was resigning myself to just a pennant and not the whole enchilada. (My parents bought me an ALCS shirt. It stayed in a drawer until this morning.) And I definitely do not go into a game expecting a win because of the "tempting the wrath" thing.

Does that mean that it helped the Red Sox? Of course not. It just made the closeness of the series easier to handle.

Game 1 was the only game that wasn't a nailbiter. The Sox had the Rockies' pitchers by the balls for eight innings, while Boston's pitching shut the Rockies' offense down. Game 2 was an edge-of-your-seat low-scoring one-run game that was made a bit easier when Jimenez displayed his inability to not walk people, but which was still a little too scary at times, even with Old Man Curt, Grizzled Playoff Veteran, on the mound. Game 3 got really hairy when the Rockies met Boston's six runs with five, but our rookie studs Jacoby Ellsbury and Dustin Pedroia reopened the gap the following inning and let us all exhale at the end. Game 4 was scary because it was Game 4, of course, but that two-run home run to put the Rockies within a run of the Sox was really scary. Jacoby's catch of Jamey Carroll's fly ball nearly killed me; I was sure that thing was gone. Then Paps sealed it by getting Seth Smith to swing through some high heat, saving our championship.

I for one am immensely proud of this team. I watched nearly every game and there were days where I didn't think we'd even get to the Series. I knew we'd see October, I just didn't know how much of it. But we had nearly a full extra month of baseball, and we came out on top. Pedroia went from an April quagmire to being a sure candidate for Rookie of the Year. Ellsbury may have secured a spot on the Opening Day roster, maybe even as the starting centerfielder. Beckett was absolutely incredible, showing us what he's really made of. Okajima was an awesome surprise, and though his season began and ended with home run balls, he was spectacular in between, the perfect set-up man, sometimes-closer, and middle-relief guy whenever he was needed. Matsuzaka was not great, but he was solid, and should earn his keep next season. Lowell and Ortiz were fantastic, especially down the stretch. Papelbon was brilliant, and despite three blown saves, we pretty much knew that all the pressure was on the opponent when he came out of the bullpen. This was an incredible team, the best team in baseball, and they deserved this championship.

Tip your cap to the Rockies. They were hot at the right time and plowed through the National League like it was an amateur stickball league (which, contrary to popular belief, it is not; it's the weaker league, but give them some credit, will you?) to capture the first pennant in franchise history. Regardless of what they say, that eight-day layoff affected them. They bounced back enough to make the Red Sox really work for their title, though, and you must give them kudos for that.

I for one am simply glad the season is over. I will miss it soon, of course; I'll be half-heartedly watching Bruins games and counting down the days to the opening of spring training. But for now, my heart and my brain need a break. We finished on top and that's going to make me sleep even better this offseason...if I ever have a minute to breathe through my schoolwork, that is.

2007 World Champion Boston Red Sox. It's real. Enjoy it guilt-free, because this was unequivocally the best team in baseball in 2007. Take a breather and buckle your seat belts: the Hot Stove is getting warmed up. Baseball never truly goes away.