Well, it’s Monday morning as I write this. And last night the Red Sox swept the World Series. As one commentator observed the last time was an exorcism, this was an exclamation point. Even though I am a new comer to baseball fandom, I find myself feeling really good about this. Hurrah for Red Sox nation!
Many people seem to be dragging themselves around this morning. I suspect there’s a lot of sleep deprivation going on. Me, these last games I watched until ten thirty or a tad later, and then called it a day. (Jan stayed up a bit longer, but only once stayed awake right through to the end.) Now, I notice I scurried down to the front porch to pick up the paper rather more quickly than usual each of these past days. And we switched on the New England Cable Network news pretty soon these past mornings, as well.
All very exciting. No doubt.
So, what’s an appropriate “spiritual” reflection on a day like this? One image that comes to my mind is how I understand in ancient Rome how a general was awarded a Triumph, that is a formal parade into the city with music blaring, captives in chains following along and the army showing it’s brass. The general wearing his oak leaf crown while riding along in a chariot would also have a companion, a slave who would constantly whisper, “you are mortal. Some day you will die.”
I think of the celebrations last time around that got seriously out of control and how one young woman died. As we move into celebratory mode I suspect there’ll be a lot of care among the authorities as they try to contain the, can we say irrational exuberance?
I suspect somewhere in this how it’s okay to identify with something like a baseball team, to exult in the triumph, but also that it’s necessary to give it all some balance. The good of this, I think, is that coming together into “the nation” and genuinely enjoying our connection to each other, even in what is ultimately simply a vicarious thrill. But, it is also important to remember the dividing up into teams is just a convention, just a moment in time. And it will all pass.
Last year when the family was at a Paw Sox game down in Pawtucket I recall a moment when some one on the opposing team, as I recall the Mud Hens, made a spectacular outfield catch, having had to run and dive and in mid air pluck the ball; the crowd, Sox fans almost to a person, broke into spontaneous applause. Then a moment of hesitation. Then, people remembered, and made a halfhearted attempt at booing the player.
But, it seemed to me, in that moment, everyone recalled it was just a game. And a good player deserved recognition, even if it cost the home team a run, or in this case, a base hit.
There is some joy in the physicality of our lives. There is a joy in having a team.
And, it’s all tentative. Next year it’ll reshape. And people who were favorites will become opponents. And people who were opponents will become central players for us.
There’s a life lesson here, somewhere. I’m pretty sure.
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