Just Like New Years Eve Only Better

I'm tired. By nine o'clock tonight I was laying on my couch wishing that I was asleep. Despite my best efforts to casually drift off to sleep while watching the sixth game of the World Series, I found myself still awake at ten o'clock. By then it was the fifth inning and the Yankees were winning 7-1. As I watched Andy Pettite calmly pitch, I wondered what was going on in his head. The Yankees were up by 6 runs and if they won this game they would be the world champs . How did he stay so calm? How could he and his teammates not get jumpy and excited?

The win seemed inevitable. Matt even congratulated me on my team winning the World Series (yet again) when he went off to bed. At this point I decided that if I fell asleep, I would miss the Yankees winning and celebrating their 27th World Series Title.  So I settled in for what turned out to be almost two more hours of baseball. I couldn't help but think that it felt like counting down to midnight on New Year's Eve. You know what's coming, you're pretty sure it'll be anti-climatic but you just can't turn of New Year's Rockin' Eve until the sparkly ball tells you to. Must sing "Auld Lang Syne." Or at least hum along because you don't know the words.

My analogy turned out to be right on in the sense that the game began to draw to a close as midnight approached. At twelve minutes to twelve with the score 7-3, the Yankees were only one out away from World Series victory. I figured the game wouldn't make it until midnight unless the current batter fouled off pitch after pitch for twelve minutes. You know what he did with the very next pitch? You guessed it, he fouled it off. Actually he fouled off the next FOUR PITCHES. Then he grounded out to second, and it was over.

I share this with you not to bore you or in hopes that someone will call me out in the comment section as being a fake fan, but because the very best part of all of this is that the win wasn't anti-climatic at all. It was pure awesome. After the game was over, Fox replayed the reactions of the players and coach as they watched the final out happen. I watched as player after player watched the ball roll to the second baseman, then as he tossed it to the first baseman for the out. At some point during each of the replays, the player would realize that the Yankees, HIS team, had won the World Series and all seriousness and responsibility melted off his face, and he became a little boy full of pure unadulterated joy at acheiving his dream.

Whether you love the Yankees, hate them or are completely indifferent, watching someone achieve their dreams is pretty awesome.