THE BOSTON RED SOX WERE TOAST. At least everyone thought so. The California Angels held a 3-1 edge in the best-of-seven ALCS. It was the 9th inning of Game 5 in Anaheim, and, with two men out, the Sox trailed by a run.
Their hopes rested on the bat of reserve center fielder Dave Henderson, who had hit at a lowly .196 clip during the season. Henderson was only playing, in fact, because Boston’s starter, Tony Armas, had gotten injured. He was facing the Angels’ top relief pitcher, Donnie Moore.
The count came to 2-2. The Sox, already down to their final out, were now down to their final strike.
In the Angels’ clubhouse, the champagne was on ice–and the bottles had been uncorked. California outfielder Gary Pettis was set to be named series MVP. Police were readying for a swarm of fans onto the field once the Angels won.
Except the Angels didn’t win. Henderson spoiled the party when he crushed Moore’s 2-2 pitch over the left-field fence. It was a two-run homer, giving the Sox a 6-5 lead. They went on to defeat the Angels in 11 innings, then capture Games 6 and 7 at Fenway Park.
That was 18 years ago, the last time Boston won the ALCS. They lost the ’86 World Series, of course, to the New York Mets.
Why bring this up? Simple. Red Sox faithful are, for the moment, positively giddy about Boston’s historic come-from-behind thrashing of the Yankees. And well they should be. It was a stunning victory–and an equally stunning choke.
But–and I say this as a true-blue Sox fan–all the “greatest-comeback-ever” stuff worries me. You see, the Sox already staged the “greatest comeback ever”–in 1986. After they beat the Angels, Boston second baseman Marty Barrett (the series MVP) said it was . . . well, “the greatest comeback ever.”
Perhaps I’m just hyper-anxious. Perhaps I’ve put too much stock in The Curse. But similarities to 1986 tempered my Wednesday-night euphoria.
As Red Sox loyalists know all too well, rooting for their team can often seem an exercise in masochism. Let’s hope this year is–finally!–“our year.”
Then again, wasn’t that the hope in 1986? And in 1978? And in 1967? And . . .
Now you see why Boston fans believe in ghosts.
Duncan Currie is an editorial assistant at The Weekly Standard.
