So, anonymous, in the comments section below asked "What happened to 'My hope is like a cockroach.'"
Funny he should ask about Hope.
Cubs fans and Red Sox fans epitomize 'Hope is like a cockroach.'
Every year, they say, despite overwhelming historical evidence to the contrary, 'this is the year. I mean the odds are in our favor. What's the probablility of going 87 (or 97) years without a championship? So, this is going to be our year. Right? Right?'
And the Red Sox, playing the Yankees, again, this year, their hated nemesis, the older, more successful, better looking brother. Who just happens to have won 26 championships in the same 86 year time span, has them pinned to the metaphorical mat, up 3 games to nothing in a best of 7 series. And older bro dominating his brother, has a lugey he's letting slowly gravity down to his long-suffering little brother's face.
It bears mentioning that no baseball team has ever come back from 3 games down to force a game 7. Cue Christ Tucker voice: Ever, ever, ever.
And, so, lil bro suddenly twists turns rumbles grunts and flips the situation. Boston comes back last night to tie things up 3-3.
Here's where hope and the expectation of failure come back in and tie a nice bow and where those of you who hate sports or don't really understand and think that it might be the oddest characteristic of any burner to be this into sports, well, this is where it all comes back to hope.
From the Sports Guy, my favorite read on the internet.
The Schilling Game (6)
"So what happens Wednesday night? I'm probably the wrong person to ask. I haven't slept in four days. My back feels like Schilling rammed his protective shoe against it. Even my jaw is sore -- from chewing gum like a madman during Game 5. The classic move would be for the Sox to come back, win three games in a row, then lose the climactic 7th game. But this isn't a classic Red Sox team. The old Red Sox would have blown Game 4 or Game 5, and they definitely would have choked in Game 6..."
Me: Note the expectation of failure, The Other Shoe to Drop feeling of undeserved success or impending doom. What I like to call the Outside Dog in the House feeling: You're thrilled as fuck to be in the house. It's warm. It's cozy. It's not raining on you, the humans are being nice to you. It can't possibly last. The people are either going to realize that a) you don't belong inside and throw you quickly back into the yard or b) you're going to be bathed and then quickly thrown back into the yard or c) they're about to cut your balls off. if they haven't already. Anyways, this is what success or being happy is like for me.
Back to the Sports Guy: "Here's the point: Those things haven't been happening. Sometimes you pass a point where history becomes a factor -- like with the Patriots three years ago, when the diehards kept waiting for the Other Shoe to drop, and we were waiting and waiting, and suddenly Vinatieri's final kick split the uprights, the most liberating feeling you can imagine. That's the thing about baggage as a sports fan -- you can shed this stuff. You just need a few breaks. This Boston team is getting them..."
Me: More hope like a cockroach. If they do lose tonight, you can bet the emotional pendulum will have swung all the way back around. Look at the hope of a lifechanging event in the next couple of paragraphs:
SG: "1. In less than 24 hours, you could be hearing someone say the following sentence: "So the Red Sox completed the most dramatic comeback in baseball history rallying from three games to zero to defeat the New York Yankees and make the World Series, where they'll be facing off against Roger Clemens and the Houston Astros in Game 1.
2. If the roles were reversed, Red Sox Nation would be having a collective coronary right now. Repeat: Coronary. I can't imagine what New York is like...... "
OK, back to pretending to work. No compromises, yo. Because this time, this move, this job, things are really going to change.
