I couldn’t sleep. Could you?
I still cannot process what just happened. The chain of events between 7-0 in the bottom of the 8th (I’ll admit it, I started to channel surf, I couldn’t watch our boys end like that) to the Wild Card (I was following Baltimore-Boston through text messages from my dad) is too jarring.
The natural instinct of professional writers everywhere will be to breakdown how it happened. Or, they will breakdown what it means. That is what the media does and, in the era of 24 hour news, we expect instant history. But, if you came here this morning looking for my take on the historical significance of the 2011 Wild Card race, you are going to be disappointed. I don’t think we will fully understand September 28-29, 2011 for a very long time. It is a singular event. It simply cannot be canned and shipped in just a few hours.
Maybe the only people that know what we are feeling at the moment are fans of the New York Giants and Brooklyn Dodgers in 1951.
Rather than analyzing the Rays return from the dead (I need to go back and count how many lives these cats have, but I think it is many more than 9) lets just enjoy the fact that it occurred. We have our entire lives to argue about context (in this scenario “argue about context” can be interpreted to mean “taunt Boston fans”).
In the meantime, we need to do four things:
1) We need a name for the Wild Card race we just witnessed;
2) We need a name for the 8th/9th inning rally we just witnessed;
3) We need a name for Johnson’s tying bomb; and
4) We need a name for Longo’s walkoff bomb.