I got to go to the World Series this past Sunday—sort of. Actually, I got to see the trophies the Boston Red Sox won in 2004, 2007 and 2013 at a fundraiser for a local assisted living community. Being an avid Sox fan, I naturally had to have my picture taken with the trophies. But there was on picture I was able to get that means the most: the 2004 World Series trophy.
Why that particular year’s trophy? Two reasons: 2004 was the year the Red Sox finally broke their “Curse of the Bambino” in winning their first championship since selling Babe Ruth to the Yankees in 1918 and because my grandfather never got to see it happen.
As I’ve related before, my grandfather, like all good New England born and bred boys, was a die hard Red Sox fan. He even tried to go to Florida one year as a young man to try out for the team in spring training, but had to come home before reaching his destination. Grampa loved baseball and the Red Sox, living with hope at the start of each season and heartbreak at the close calls and near-misses at the end of it.
When Keith Foulke fielded the grounder and tossed the batter out at first to win the World Series in 2004, the first thought in my mind was Grampa and how much I wished he was still alive to see it happen. He passed due to Parkinson’s in August 2002, barely two years before the Sox won it all. While the thought of he and Ted Williams celebrating the championship at the big baseball diamond in the sky brought some consolation, I would have loved to have been able to call him at home on Cape Cod and celebrate.
May treasured memories of friends and family who have departed live on in, and through us.
Go Red Sox…