Did you see that World Series game last night? The 2011 World Series game 6 — Texas Rangers vs. the St. Louis Cardinals.
I didn’t see the whole thing. Just parts of it at a restaurant and at home. But I saw the best part. I saw the last of the ninth and the extra innings. I saw the great comebacks and the broken hearts.
Let me just say up front (yes, the third paragraph can count as “up front”) that I am not a loyal baseball fan. I mean, I have my favorite teams and occasionally dribble breakfast cereal milk on the MLB standings page in the sports section, but really, baseball is not my passion. And for that matter, I could care less who wins the series. St. Louis Cardinals or Texas Rangers? Couldn’t care less. Not one single iota. Not interested in either team at all for any reason.
But that doesn’t matter when the stakes are high. All that ambivalence goes out the window when the drama and tension are as thick as pea soup. Last night I was as engrossed and engaged as any “true” fan. How could I not be?
I won’t recap the whole thing. You can click over to ESPN or Fox Sports for the recaps. But what I will say is that it was quite a rollercoaster. One end of the inning you’re up. The next end you’re tied. Just when the bats seemed quiet, they busted out loud and clear out of the blue. In the end, St. Louis took the game to force a game 7 — making MLB suits and Cardinals fans happy and postponing the Rangers’ celebration.
But the real point of this is to say that sometimes when all seems lost and dark, salvation might be just around the corner. You intentionally walk the big batter and the next guy steps up big. You count someone out and they roar back to life. You give up hope and then just when you least expect it, something wonderful happens. Sometimes everything seems lost, but then you remember that Coldplay said, “Everything’s not lost.” And whaddya know? It isn’t.
As I said, you don’t have to be a baseball fan to appreciate the 2011 World Series drama. Heck, you don’t have to be a Rangers or Cardinals fan for that matter. The reason “big games” are labeled as such is because everything is on the line. There is, potentially, no tomorrow. The chips are on the table and the dealer is about to show. It all comes down to this moment. This at-bat. This one last chance with two strikes and two outs in the bottom of the ninth!
I don’t know where I’ll be during game 7. Since I’m not from Texas or St. Louis I could be at a movie, out to dinner, or sitting quietly in my room reading. Then again, maybe there’s a chance I’ll be in the mood for more drama. In that case, it’s probably a safe bet I’ll be glued to the TV waiting for the bottom of the ninth…’cause, y’know, I probably won’t watch the whole thing.