Hardball Hyperbole: Chapter 16

In today’s edition, with their backs against the wall, the Red Sox forced a Game 7 that everyone knew simply had to happen as they whacked Andy Pettitte around in a 9-6 victory.

No matter how many ghosts were hovering above Yankee Stadium, no matter how much anyone actually believed in the Curse of the Bambino, and no matter how ignominious the Red Sox playoff history was in comparison to the Yankees, there was no way Boston was losing Game 6 of the 2003 ALCS.

That might sound crazy, but there was no way this series wasn’t going the distance, just like a year hence there was no way the 2004 ALCS wouldn’t be going the distance. In these two seasons, it had been decreed by whatever powers were at work that every possible bit of drama was to be squeezed out of baseball’s greatest holy war. Of course the Red Sox were going to win Game 6, because there had to be a Game 7.

“I guess it was supposed to come down to seven games,” Joe Torre conceded. “I don’t know of any two clubs that are more evenly matched than we are.”

And so it was most appropriate, destined really, that the Red Sox rallied to win Game 6 in the Bronx 9-6 to force a seventh and deciding game. That’s just the way it was meant to be.

Maybe in any other season since Babe Ruth had moved from Boston to New York, the Red Sox would have been doomed in this win-or-go-home game. That was always the Red Sox way, right? Never mind not having won a World Series since 1918, this franchise had won only four playoff series in 85 years. Four. The Yankees had won 15 just since 1996.

But it had been quite apparent throughout 2003, and would be even more apparent in 2004, that these were not your father’s Red Sox, nor were they your grandfather’s Red Sox.

All that aura and mystique that Curt Schilling poked fun at during the 2001 World Series between his Diamondbacks and the Yankees, the kind that allowed Bucky Dent to hit his home run over the Green Monster in 1978, and perhaps enabled the Yankees to roll the Red Sox in five games in the first playoff series between the two rivals in 1999?

None of that meant anything to these new-wave Red Sox with their goofy, laid back clubhouse and their “Cowboy Up” mantra that had become a rallying cry throughout New England. They feared nothing, not their own tortured history, and certainly not the Evil Empire.

“We’ve been on a collision course for a hundred years,” Sox general manager Theo Epstein said after watching with white knuckles as his team turned a 4-1 lead into a 6-4 deficit but then scored three runs in the seventh and two more in the ninth. “It definitely seems appropriate, definitely meant to be, and certainly poetic. We weren’t ready to give it up. It means a lot because we have a chance to beat the Yankees and go to the World Series, despite the epic subplots.”

Kevin Millar, who had an RBI single in a four-run third inning against Andy Pettitte, stood smiling in the clubhouse afterward, reminding every reporter crowded around his locker of what he had predicted following Boston’s Game 2 loss in the Bronx. “Didn’t I stand here last week and tell you this series would go to Game 7?” he crowed. “There is no quit in this clubhouse.”

Red Sox closer Scott Williamson summed it up perfectly when he said, “This is what the baseball gods demanded.”

If that statement was to be believed, though, the baseball world must have been wondering where the hell the gods were the night before at Wrigley Field.

The Cubs, whose World Series drought stretched a full decade longer than Boston’s, were five outs away from winning their first National League pennant since 1945. They led the Florida Marlins 3-0 in Game 6 of the NLCS and there could not have been a single human being, with the exception of the miniscule Marlins fan base, who wasn’t pulling for the loveable losers to finish it off.

Not even the Red Sox could match the level of futility the Cubs had experienced since their last World Series title in 1908. Between then and 1945 they won a respectable six NL pennants but lost every World Series, and then in the 57 years encompassing 1946 through 2002, they qualified for the postseason just three times and hadn’t won a single series.

Contemplate that for a moment. From 1909 through 2002, the Cubs hadn’t won a postseason series, a streak that finally ended in 2003 when they beat the Braves in the NLDS.

Five measly outs. That’s all they needed to get back to the Fall Classic, and of course, because they were the Cubs, catastrophe struck. With a man on second, Florida’s Luis Castillo hit a fly ball down the left-field line and Chicago’s Moises Alou drifted over to the side wall and appeared poised to catch the foul ball for the second out. Instead, a fan named Steve Bartman reached up to catch it, and Alou was unable to make the play.

Alou immediately went berserk and pointed at Bartman claiming fan interference, the umpires disagreed, and the Wrigley crowd erupted in anger. In that split second, Bartman’s life changed forever as he became the most hated man in Cubs nation, a title he sadly and undeservedly held until the Cubs finally exorcized their demons and ended their misery when they won the 2016 World Series.

Lost in all the vitriol being spat at Bartman as he was escorted out of the park for his own safety, the real reason why the Cubs lost was unfolding over a disastrous 20-minute period. Castillo wound up drawing a walk off tiring starter Mark Prior, and when Pudge Rodriguez singled home a run, the lead was cut to 3-1.

And then came the play that doomed the Cubs far more than Bartman’s interference. Prior induced dangerous Miguel Cabrera to hit a ground ball that should have been a routine, inning-ending double play. But the Cubs being the Cubs, shortstop Alex Gonzalez booted it, and that opened the door to an eight-run inning. The Cubs would lose 8-3, forcing a Game 7 which everyone knew they weren’t going to win, and they didn’t.

Given their shared decades of futility, the natural assumption was that the Red Sox, just like the Cubs, were doomed to their own inexorable fate. But that was not what happened in front of a Yankee Stadium throng that was primed for a massive celebration because really, what could possibly be better than winning a pennant at the expense of the Red Sox?

Pettitte, who so often had risen to the occasion in situations like this, simply didn’t have it. He was handed a quick 1-0 lead when struggling Jason Giambi hit a solo homer in the first off John Burkett, but he came unraveled as the Sox scored four times in the third.

Jason Varitek led off with a tying homer, Johnny Damon walked, Todd Walker singled, and after Nomar Garciaparra grounded into a fielders choice, David Ortiz lashed a two-run single and Millar tacked on his RBI single to make it 4-1.

Burkett then gave it all back in the fourth as the Yankees scored four runs on four hits, a walk, and a damaging error by Garciaparra on a grounder that could have resulted in a double play. With the inning alive, Alfonso Soriano promptly ripped a two-run double and the Yankees were up 5-4.

It would seem so. After the Yankees pushed their lead to 6-4 on a homer by Jorge Posada off Bronson Arroyo in the fifth, the Red Sox attacked Jose Contreras who had taken over for Pettitte to start the sixth. He worked around a walk to get out of his first inning unscathed, but he got lit up in the game-changing seventh.

Garciaparra, hitting a miserable .205 across the first five games, led off with a triple and was allowed to score when Hideki Matsui’s throw sailed into the seats behind third base. “When I threw it, it was just a little off to the right. It was just a miss on my part,” Matsui said.

Manny Ramirez followed with a double, took third on a wild pitch and scored the tying run on a single by Ortiz. Contreras retired Millar, but Bill Mueller singled, so Torre brought in lefty Felix Heredia and he immediately threw a wild pitch to put men on second and third. Here, Torre let him go after lefty-swinging Trot Nixon and he struck him out, but then Torre had him intentionally walk Varitek to load the bases and set up another lefty-on-lefty clash with Damon. Damon won, drawing a four-pitch walk and the Red Sox were ahead.

And while Alan Embree, Mike Timlin and Williamson shut down the Yankees the rest of the way, Nixon provided some breathing room in the ninth with a two-run homer off Gabe White.

“This is such a magical season with so many unbelievable moments that I’m going to have to sit back and watch these games on tape this winter to catch up,” Epstein said. “But everyone who experienced today’s game will remember it for a long time, especially if tomorrow lives up to our expectations.”

All the pressure was on the Yankees now. They were the Yankees, the perennial favorite, the forever tormentor of the Red Sox. They were the home team, and even though they’d have to face Pedro Martinez, hey, they’d had pretty good success against him in 2003.

As for the Red Sox? There was no pressure. They were the Red Sox, the perennial underdog, the forever bitch of the Yankees. They would have to face Roger Clemens, but they’d had pretty good success against him, too.

“We’re going to have a couple of cocktails, get some rest and be ready to take on the Babe and the rest of the Yankees,” Damon said.

This was the only way this could have gone down, and what a finale it would be.

NEXT WEDNESDAY: Aaron Boone forever stamps his name on the Yankees-Red Sox rivalry and in baseball history with as dramatic a home run as has ever been hit.