I was listening to the game at my desk and, after David Murphy doubled with one out to put the game-tying run into scoring position, I knew I’d kick myself if It happened again, without getting out of my chair to see It.
So I ran down the hallway to our reception area. Changed the channel from CNN to FSSW.
Saw one pitch.
That bat flip.
That play-by-play call.
That complete game.
A message to most of the national media:
No, check that.
A thought from Sting, 18 years ago:
So high above the world tonight
The Angels watch us sleeping
And underneath a bridge of stars
We dream in safety’s keeping
But perhaps the dream
Is dreaming us
Actually, I don’t think he capitalized “angels.”
The song is called “When the Angels Fall,” which is not the point I’m trying to make, even though they’re trailing Boston, 2-1, in the third.
The point is that as great as last year’s run of improbable walkoff wins was, each delivered by a different hero, I remember feeling a bit deflated as the season neared its end, thinking to myself that we’d be lucky to have that sort of late-inning mojo again, in a season when we were really poised to make some noise.
Suddenly it sort of feels like 2008, in that respect, and in others, was just a taste of something bigger.
Because the mojo is still here, maybe even stronger, and there’s something potentially extraordinary happening in front of our eyes (and our Rangers Radio Network-glued ears). It’s not a game played on paper.
Man, I wanted to be the middle of that scrum at the plate, yelling at Crush to fire his helmet aside as he Romo’d his way to the plate.
If there aren’t 100,000 people at the Ballpark this weekend, in this weather and against that team and with this team doing what it’s doing, I’ll be stunned.
As for today’s result, I should be stunned about that as well.
But, you know what? Probably like you, I’m not.
Not even slightly.