This is For Everyone

They won it for:

For Else, the immigrant from post-war Germany, who taught me how baseball should be played and who also taught me that many managers don't know even so simple a thing as that.

For my grandfather, who remembered 1918 (though, he always said, sitting in boot camp that year he was a little more concerned with the hostilities in Europe than with the World Series) and who took me to my first ballgame - at Fenway, of course. The Sox lost to the Brewers and my grandfather pointed out the nearly done Hank Aaron as "the best ball player you will ever see".

For my grandmother in Louisville who became a Reds fan - a serious Reds fan - so that despite the sixty years between our ages we would have baseball in common.

For my father, a boy from the Bronx, but always a Dad from Boston. For my mother, who took my tears in 1978 very seriously indeed.

For Debby and Rich who got married in 1975 and honeymooned to the crackling radio sound of that year's West Coast swing.

For my buddy Chris who always insisted that he wanted this title to come without drama, without stress, with eleven runs in the first inning - and who answered the phone last night by screaming "Sweep! Sweep! Sweep! Um, who is this?"

For Mrs Martial who, when we fell in love, decided that in order to stand a life with me she would need to learn one (but just one) sport. She picked baseball and the Sox repaid her by breaking her heart, never more so than last year.

Welcome home, all of you.

Posted by Martial