...And The Mountains Should Crumble To The Sea

Well, that’s that, then. Two World Series championships in my lifetime, both won in sweeps. And yeah, I don’t know if it seems sportsmanlike. Maybe we of the Nation have too much invested in the image, formed in our race-memory over 86 winless years, of the Red Sox as righteous underdogs. Heroes? Sure. But conquering heroes? Man, I dunno.

I don’t feel too bad for the Rockies or their fans, though. Theirs is a young team—the franchise itself and the individual players, most of whom look barely old enough to shave—and they’ve got tons of heart and raw talent. Most of these guys are gonna end up wearing the ring at some point in their careers.

But still. It’s the sentimentalist in me, sure, but c’mon: Wouldn’t it have been even sweeter to take the Series at home?

Or maybe I’m just whiny cos I only got to make four Mojo mixtapes, and there are a ton of great tunes and segues I never got to use: “Beck’s Bolero” for Josh, “Falling Down The Mountain” by INXS, Aerosmith’s “Back In The Saddle,” the Armoury Show doing “We Can Be Brave Again”... hell, there was this whole opening I had worked out for a hypothetical Game 7 mixtape, with Aragorn’s speech at the gates of Mordor over a dijiridu drone and crashing into Richard Thompson’s “The Knife-Edge” (a.k.a. the theme to Grizzly Man)—man, it was beautiful.

Then I see the skipper, Jason Varitek, elated, exhausted, weeping freely on national TV; and Papelbon, and even ¡Big Papi!, so controlled, so fierce in the game, both just overcome; and I think, Well, that’s kind of petty of me, now, isn’t it?

And so it is.

Rest easy, boys; We’ll see you in February.