Something special happened on that Sunday evening that I have never experienced before. For those who have seen me watch a Red Sox game in years past, know I come unglued when things start to fall apart for this team.
My passion runs deep for the Red Sox and the Utah Jazz which leads me to cheer just that much harder than others. I have my nervous ticks of knocking between pitches, clapping a certain way before free throws and having a hard time separating love for my team from being a rational fan
But, that Sunday night, 10/28/2007 will be a day when everything changed. The Sox were in a dog fight from the first pitch and it looked like it was going to be closer than any Sox fan would like in the World Series.
The Sox are up 4-1 in the bottom of the 8th when Atkins takes Okajima deep for a two run home run. Coors Field experienced a minor earthquake after that and my mom flipped out. My dad was calling the game over and I looked over at them and said..."It's okay...we've got this. You just have to believe".
That was just it...you just have to believe. It was such a foreign concept to me on any level. Hell, I'm a Jazz fan that saw his team lose to the greatest of all time. I'm a Sox fan that watched Aaron "F&*^*&%" Boone hit that home run in extra innings off of Wakefield and watched the Sox win a starring contest with the devil in '04.
Through all of that, the thought of 'just believe' was never part of the thought process. But this year was different. You just believed they would not let you down. Even when down 3-1 and looked like all was lost. You believed that this wasn't their last chance to knock at the door of the World Series. I remember saying "there's always next year" and believing that it was true. That they would be back there next year.
The magical part about that night was after the game was done, looking over at my nephew, Lil' Papi, and realizing that he was born into a world where Red Sox Nation has start to forget the past. A world where '47, '67', '75, '78, '86, '03 were all forgotten and '04 and '07 was the reference point when you thought of the Red Sox.
He was born in a world where the Curse has been Reversed, Fenway is still the Chapel of Baseball and above all else, the Sox are Champions. I wasn't as happy for myself that night, rather for him. To know that his world is different than it was for every other Red Sox fan prior to that night.
He'll see the date on the Boston Globe when he's older and ask me why it's framed. I'll sit him down and tell him of a story where the world changed with one stolen base by Dave Roberts on one fateful night in Fenway Park. How the impossible happened. How the dragon was slayed and 86 years of pain lifted.
But before I tell him of the happy ending...tell him of those years that came before them. They molded a nation, they taught them to appreciate what their team accomplished these past few years and it taught a nation to finally let go of the past and relish in the now and the future. And that is the world Lil' Papi was born into...a world where Sox fans just believe.

