Say it ain't so
By Karlsie
Those bat birds are now next to us in the stands watching the final act of the summer play out in the new battle between the north and the south. To the north is Chicago - carrying the weight of redemption from (ironically) 86 years ago on their shoulders. To the south is Houston - hoping for one more victory for a fading star and a touch of something good in a ravaged region.
But who will watch? How will the media excite the rest of the country the way they did last year? Last year's Red Sox rally against the Yankees was an exciting match up that was worthy of Bruce Springsteen's hook: "no defeat baby, no surrender." Then, after all those close calls for so long, there was an underdog to cheer. The beleaguered team from Boston who had been cursed since the days of the Titanic was finally going to get a shot once more.
And how the media ate it up with a spoon and fed it back to the masses like a mother bird giving her fledglings' life-nourishing sustenance.
This year has had its share as well: the 18 inning game seven against Atlanta where the Rocket Man once again saved Houston's bacon from the fire; Pujol's fifth game (giving new meaning to "flipping the bird"); Chicago's come from behind rally not once, but twice against Boston and then effectively keeping Vlad's bat quiet. All of these moments were dramatic, but the media has been unable to lash the whip of frenzy the way they did last year.
Where are the stories of the fall from grace and possible redemption the White Sox now face? The round the clock showings of "Eight Men Out" that I expected are no where to be found. Where are the signs reading, "Ease His Pain" and displays of books like Kinsella's "Shoeless Joe" in bookstores? Where are the tear filled interviews for the survivors of that whole "Say it ain't so Joe" era?
I will miss game one - it's my anniversary and my husband will not be ignored for a White Sox/Astros stare down, but I've made it clear, for the rest of the series, the TV belongs to me to see if the south will rise again or if Shoeless Joe can finally, like Babe Ruth, rest in peace.
