Are you willing to cross a boundary? I am
I can't help but think about the last 24 hours as I sit here delayed in Newark Airport on my way back to Florida to get my wisdom teeth removed.
I was sitting online during a Yankees off day, semi-packing and semi-procrastinating for my two weeks away when I received an IM that immediately infuriated me. I was told Jon Lester had a no-hitter through 8.1 innings against the Royals, the same pesky team that took two out of three from my dwindling Yankees earlier this year. The score was 7-0 and it meant 6.5 games out of first for any Yankees fan. But I'm a journalism major and I have an unhealthy obsession for baseball, even satanic teams that wear nothing but red, so I had to tune in to NESN. Besides, Remy and Orsillo actually crack me up because they are so absurdly unprofessional at times.
Without further distraction, I ran into my bedroom and turned on the game after Jon Lester had retired 26 Royals without allowing so much as a single. After strike one I was in a silence praying anything in the world could break up what would be the second Red Sox no-no in a three-month regular season span. Two young Red Sox pitchers achieving one of the most impressive feats in Major League Baseball? Not happening, I won't let it. I was immediately reminded of the late 90s when it was the Yankees who everybody in baseball feared and wanted to beat, they were the level of excellence and had the greatest dynasty of my lifetime...in any sport. It was then that in 1996 I attended Dwight Gooden's no-hitter, and then watched live on TV as David Wells and David Cone both pitched perfect games in consecutive seasons. Beat that. You can't. It's awesome. And they did it without Nolan Ryan or Sandy Koufax, the human no-hitters in their rotation. This got me thinking during a hard-hit foul for strike two whether no-hitters were a product of team luck and success, or whether team luck and success were a product of solid pitching. What led to no-hitters? David Wells and David Cone were not the best pitchers in the game, just as Jon Lester and Clay Buchholz aren't even the two best YOUNG pitchers in the game, so why did they achieve these feats? Why so close together? Why is it always at home?
At this point I was shouting at the TV. It wasn't fair. How could my team, a team who has shown its fans more titles than anybody else in North American sports, the same team who showed me four titles in five years, how could they be so pathetic to watch and this historically pathetic franchise have everything right going for them? It used to be that the Sox were always great in April and May; that was like a running joke. Meet your Boston Red Sox, watch their potential, wait for September and laugh at the comedy of collapsing that will inevitably follow. I'm not too young to remember that pattern. I am; however, too old not to be frustrated by the fact that ever since the little flukey 2004, the Yankees have not gotten off to a solid start. I'm too old to be wasting 162 days on a team who doesn't seem to try for about 85 of them. But that's all just frustration. Baseball works in waves, just like any sport. Your team, if you have good ownership, will have its years of fortune, and it will struggle, even the ones with a lot of money and a lot of talent on paper. They struggle too. And even sometimes when you don't struggle, you still lose, that's what keeps you coming back for more. Lucky for me, I was born into Yankee fandom, so I know eventually the ship will right itself and all these young talents will reach the right age to take back what I remember as being mine. All of this ran through my mind as Jon Lester battled for history.
And after he threw an impressive fastball for his 130th pitch, the same pitch that blew right by the final batter and the final pitch to complete a masterpiece, I thought about something else. Granted, my first reaction was literally, "Nooooooooo!" in a Darth Vader-Revenge-of-the-Sith sort of way, but after that my emotions started changing without my consent.
I was pissed. What Yankees fan wouldn't be? There is nothing more miserable than Fenway Park exploding with happiness. I like it much more when they have their whole funeral routine after a loss, especially to the Yankees. It soothes me. I could fall asleep to Fenway silence and I don't even sleep well. So to nobody's surprise, seeing a 7-0 Red Sox win with a no-hitter intact and that stupid grin on Jason Varitek's face was annoying. They all seem like a bunch of jerks when they're happy, that's just what's hardwired in a few million of our brains. And then that sports passion kicked in.
Jon Lester, a starting pitcher in Major League Baseball just a few years older than me, was two years removed from a life threatening illness. Is there anybody who reads this site that has not in one way or to some degree been impacted by cancer? I'd venture to guess there isn't. Cancer is one of those things everybody can relate to though they would rather not. Can you imagine being 22 in a hospital room being told there is a chance you might die? Even if that chance is slim-to-none? I don't even like the thought of thinking I might die at all, especially in two years and especially with the upside of being a professional athlete. I thought about that. And it changed my opinion almost immediately. What a freakin' story.
The guy no-hit cancer and then no-hit a Major League Baseball team. He also won the World Series but we are definitely not going there. That's a story. That's a human interest story. I mean, at the end of the day, that's an inspirational story. And while I'm not the type to sneak a peek at Lifetime, and I'm not one to sympathize with bad breaks everybody will have to go through, I am a complete sucker for inspirational sports stories. I'd love nothing more than to travel the U.S. and the world and uncover them. That's a large reason I'm going down the path I chose to go down. I LOVE these types of things and it doesn't matter what uniform the people who create these stories wear.
Do I wish Lester pitched a no-hitter and lost a la Andy Hawkins? Yes, of course. I wish nothing but bad luck to the Boston Red Sox whether in 2008 or 1998. But we can't always get what we want. The saddest and maybe the happiest part of all of last night, was I actually DID get what I wanted. And it was at the expense of a team I couldn't exist without. That's a sports story.





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