My beautiful new bride Nicole and I took time out of our honeymoon in Chicago last week to take in game four of the Red Sox vs. Cardinals World Series at the ESPN Zone in Chicago.My new wife and I were sitting there wearing Cubs hats, but I think we were both rooting for the Red Sox. I know I sure was because, nothing against people from St. Louis, I hate every team from the city of St. Louis. As geographic rivals to all the Chicago teams I grew up rooting for, St. Louis teams are considered enemies.
My beautiful new bride, a Twins fan, didn't quite say who she was cheering for, but I could tell she still likes Doug Mientkiewicz and wanted him to win a World Series Title.
When Johnny Damon hit his solo home run in the first inning the restaurant erupted in cheers. As I was happily clapping I noticed my bride too was smiling and clapping.
There were a few plays where St. Louis looked good and the few lonely Cardinals fans in the crowd were loud and obnoxious, but that didn't last long.
When Trot Nixon doubled to center field in the third inning that scored two, there was a collective gasp from all those in the restaurant cheering for the Red Sox. There was a brief moment where we all thought Nixon was going to hit a grand slam. When the ball fell short there was a short moan, that is until two runs crossed the plate and people cheered and guys exchanged high fives.
It was about that time that Nicole looked at me, a smile as big as the Magnificent Mile we had been shopping all day, and noted how exciting everything was.
It was about the fourth or fifth inning that we left the restaurant because we were done eating and we didn't want to keep ordering drinks just so we could stay and watch the game so we hurried back to the hotel room to take in the rest of the game.
Since it was not the Emmys or some other big awards show like that, Nicole went in one room and watched the Food Network while I watched the rest of the game.
With two outs in the bottom of the ninth, I was a bit more optimistic than I was when the Red Sox had two outs in the bottom of the ninth in the American League Championship Series. In the ALCS I was wondering how the Red Sox were going to blow it, but this time around I just wanted to know how it would end. Would it be a strike out, a routine fly ball? What would it be?
When I saw Red Sox pitcher Keith Foulke toss the ball to former Twin Mientkiewicz I couldn't help but smile.
As I looked closer I noticed the Cardinals batter, Edgar Renteria, who grounded into the Series ending ground out wore number three. Three, the number the Babe wore. I was skeptical of the supposed "Curse of the Bambino" because it hadn't been referred to as a cure until the 1990s, but when the Red Sox had to come back from a 3-0 deficit and win game seven of the ALCS in the House that Ruth built and then the last batter for the opposing team in the World Series wears number three, I think there is something there.
I also think that the turn of events reversed the curse. Thank God. There are other teams that have gone longer without winning a series (both Chicago teams) but no fans have taken it more personal than Red Sox fans.
For the sake of Bostonians, a Red Sox World Series victory couldn't have come sooner. I am not sure Red Sox fans could have taken another heart breaking let down.
We should all thank the baseball gods for their graciousness to Boston.
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