162
It was a day built for Hollywood. Movies thrive on comeback stories, magical stories, and improbable underdog stories. The 162nd game of the 2011 season had every storyline imaginable. It was a day that baseball fans dream of. It was a day we may never see again. With the season quickly (who am I kidding, the offseason is dragging on) approaching, I’ll take a look back at that incredible day and how it affected people of each fan base.
Personally, I was frantically trying to get my son to sleep so that I could get back to flipping between four games. A 5-month old offers many struggles and joys, but when some of the most intriguing baseball in the history of the sport is being played, the struggles are magnified. I was finally able to get him to sleep and rushed back to watch the ending to the Braves game, the ending to the Rays game, and the ending to the Red Sox game. Each game provided each team’s fan base with different emotions. Emotions I’ve felt personally at different times in my life as a fan. My experiences as a fan allow me to take a look at how fans of each team felt, and I’ll do so from a first-person perspective.
Braves Fan:
I woke up on the morning of the final day of the season in a bad mood. Fredi Gonzalez had brought the Braves back to the brink of success. Sure a winning season may be considered successful, but not to me. Not after 14 straight division titles before we were finally knocked off by the Phillies. Now, on the brink of recapturing a play-off berth – still not a division win, but the Wild Card was just fine with me – the Braves were dangerously close to blowing it all.
A St. Louis loss and a Braves win guaranteed the sweet taste of the postseason once a again. I was angry at my team, but excited to watch the game. I was literally on the edge of my seat as the Braves and Phillies traded blows through the first nine innings. Our stud, rookie closer Craig Kimbrel was set to lock the game down and send the Braves into the play-offs. But that didn’t happen. He blew the lead.
I was ready to vomit as the game went into extras. The Cardinals game had not only started, but St. Louis jumped out to an almost insurmountable lead. They were already up 6-0 on the Astros by the third inning.
The 13th inning started, and I saw it all start to slip away. The Phillies should not have cared about this game. In fact, they should have wanted the Braves to win. They would have to face the Cardinals in the first round if they beat us. The Cardinals were the hot team. If the Phillies would just lose, they could face the Diamondbacks. Instead, the Phillies scored in the top of the 13th and my team’s chances dropped off a cliff. With the Cardinals blowing out the Astros and the Phillies now leading by one, the Braves play-off lives were all but dead.
By now, I had sunk into my couch, the excitement long gone. I was not angry. I was depressed. The long offseason was about to begin. Sure enough, the bottom of the 13th came and went. The Braves had lost. Their season was over.
Cardinals Fan:
Everyone had written the Cardinals off a month ago. They were done. Anything they accomplished tonight was only icing on the cake. For the team to come back as much as they did, I couldn’t complain. Sure, I wanted them to win. I wanted to see them advance to the play-offs. I did not want tonight to be Albert Pujols‘ last in a Cardinals uniform.
The game started with a bang as the Cardinals jumped out to a 5-0 lead in the first inning. Against the lowly Astros, my confidence surged. I glanced at the Braves game and saw them leading as they headed into the 9th. What did a Braves win mean again? I couldn’t remember. I just didn’t want to worry about it. With my Cardinals soundly in the lead, I felt comfortable leaving them on their own so I could watch the outcome of the Braves/Phillies game.
I switched channels just in time to see Craig Kimbrel give up the game tying hit. I literally jumped straight up in the air, spilling my drink all over my carpet. Forget the stain that was settling in, the Cardinals had a real shot at making the play-offs and cementing themselves into history with the September comeback they were building.
I flipped back to the Cardinals game occasionally to make sure they still had things under control there. They did. As the top of the 13th began in Atlanta, I felt my pulse race. I was not much of a Phillies fan, but on this night, I was the biggest Phillies fan in the world. I watched with pure joy as the Phillies took the lead. All it would take is a scoreless bottom of the 13th for the Cardinals to head into the play-offs as one of the most improbable comeback teams in history.
As the Cardinals were wrapping up their season finale win, I watched the Braves fail to score in the bottom of the 13th. I sat there for a moment, not sure what had happened. Sure, the scenario had run through my head all night. A Braves loss and a Cardinals win means the Cardinals win the Wild Card. That’s exactly what happened, but it took me a minute to realize it. My beloved Cardinals had done what no one thought was possible. They came back from a insurmountable deficit in the standings and would be playing in yet another postseason. As I thought about it and thought about the first round match-ups, the goosebumps on my arms grew. This was something special.
Red Sox Fan
I was pissed. I was still pretty confident the Sox would win and advance to the postseason, but I was angry. This team, with the level of talent on the roster, had no business dropping into a tie with the Tampa Bay Rays. My team was better than that. They had been successful for so much of this season, getting ready for the final game of the season – a game that was essentially a play-off game – was infuriating. But I watched with subtle confidence.
By the top of the fourth inning, with the Orioles leading by one, I was losing my confidence. I decided to check in on the Rays game. It was already 5-0 Yankees over the Rays. I felt a little better. Even if the Sox lost, they’d play a one-game play-off against the Rays. I didn’t want that, I just wanted the Sox to win, but worst case scenario-wise, I was OK with it.
Suddenly, to my delight, the Sox struck for a run in the fourth and a run in the fifth. What was a one-run deficit leading to a possible one-game play-off, was suddenly a one run lead. I had to check in on the Rays. By this point, the Rays were losing 7-0. Game over. I just needed the Sox to hold on these last few innings and the month of September could be laid to rest. Red Sox Nation could forget about it, and we could move on to October baseball.
The rain started in Baltimore and the game was delayed. With a seven run lead, I was sure the Yankees would take care of business down in Tampa Bay, but I had nothing better to do, so flipped to that game. It didn’t take long for the Rays to start doing the unthinkable. They were trying to come back from a seven run deficit. The rain in Baltimore allowed me to watch with disgust as the Rays scored six in the bottom of the eighth. It was alright though. They were down one still and the Yankees had that freak, Mariano Rivera. I was about to do something I swore I’d never do. I was about to root for the Yankees and Rivera.
But Rivera didn’t come into the game. The Yankees, without a care in the world, put Cory Wade in to pitch. All Wade did was give up the game-tying home run to Dan Johnson. Dan Johnson of all people. I couldn’t watch this anymore. The knots in my stomach were starting to feel like an ulcer. I took a deep breath and switched back to the Sox game.
The rain was done and the game was ready to be finished. I had been quietly hoping the umpires would have called the game, ensuring the win. But, of course, that wouldn’t happen. Not with so much at stake on the final day of the season. But all was right with the world. In the bottom of the ninth, Jonathan Papelbon came on. He quickly struck out the first two batters. The knots in my stomach began to untie. Then like a bolt of lightning, the Orioles had hope.
It happened so quick, I’m not sure I really ever saw it happen. I was watching, but I’m not sure I comprehended it. Chris Davis doubled. Kyle Hudson pinch ran. Nolan Reimold doubled. Tie game. This wasn’t happening. I tried to tell myself that. The Rays were playing extra innings and now the Orioles had just tied this game. I prayed that Papelpon would settle in and get this last guy to strikeout. That didn’t happen.
With my hands covering my face, leaving just enough opening for me to see the television, I watched. It didn’t take long. Papelbon gave up a single. That single scored Reimold. Game over. The Sox had lost and my last hope was for the Yankees to win against the Rays in extra innings.
I quickly flipped to the Rays game. I was just in time to see Evan Longoria smoke a game-wining home run down the left field line. I sat there for a moment. I was in complete shock. Everything was quiet. I couldn’t hear the Rays fans on the television. I couldn’t hear the game announcers. All I could hear was the beating of my own heart. All I could feel was anger rising. I wanted to punch something. I wanted to throw something. I wanted to cry. That’s how 2011 would end for my Sox.
Rays Fan
The final game of the season was exciting. The Rays still had a chance. But I had something most fans didn’t get the luxury of carrying around; perspective. The Rays were so far out of this race, in the ever-dominant American League East no less. Anything they did tonight would be simply a bonus. Maybe Cardinals fans had the same feeling leading into today. I hoped the Rays would somehow squeeze into the play-offs, but if they didn’t, I was still proud of what they did on such small payroll and with all the losses from the 2010 team.
The Rays were quickly down 7-0. Time to occupy my mind elsewhere. I left the game on as background noise as I cooked dinner and cleaned up around the house. That was the beauty of baseball I always thought. You could have the game on, pay attention, and still do other things. Many people hated the pace of the games, but I loved it. I was suddenly feeling a little sad that after tonight I would have to go without this great game for five months.
As I finished picking up around my place, the Rays started showing signs of life. Incredibly, they scored six runs in bottom of the eighth. Momentum was on their side. They weren’t able to tie it in the eighth, but I had hope. I actually had more than hope. Much like the energy pulsing inside the Trop, I could feel something special. I was almost certain the Rays were going to tie this game. Then the bottom of the ninth started horribly.
Ben Zobrist flied to center and Casey Kotchman grounded out. The Rays were down to their last out with their hopes resting on Dan Johnson. Johnson was a streaky guy at best. Not the guy I’d like up in this position. I could barely even finish the thought when he blasted the game tying home run. I literally leapt off my chair, fell to my knees, and watched Johnson circle the bases. A childlike joy filled me as I’m sure it filled Johnson as he was mobbed at the plate.
With the Red Sox winning during the rain delay in Baltimore, I could only hope the Rays would find a way to score again and leave us with the worst-case scenario of a play-off game in Tampa Bay. The Rays didn’t score again int eh ninth, and the game went into extra innings. The Rays didn’t score in the tenth or the eleventh. But neither did the Yankees. Then came the bottom of the twelfth.
Justin Upton struck out, which as upsetting as it should have been, didn’t bother me that much. That was one out and Evan Longoria was stepping to the plate. I had never heard the fans at Tropicana field as loud as they were right now. Sure the magic of television could have magnified it, but even when watching the games at home like I was right now, I had never heard the fans this loud.
I heard the crowd suddenly cheer during Longoria’s at-bat. I wasn’t sure why. He hadn’t done anything. Had someone ran out onto the field? The announcers quickly shed light on what was going on. The Orioles had just scored two runs in the ninth to beat the Red Sox. Every bit of anxiety I had left in me melted away. I knew the worst case scenario here. So did Evan Longoria. And with no hesitation, Longoria became a hero. He became a legend. He smashed a line-drive home run that sent the Rays back to the play-offs.
I did the math in my head quirky. This wad the third time in four years my Rays were going to the postseason. None, however, could have compared to the way they did it this year. My mind was such a flurry of thoughts, I had no idea I was running around my house screaming with joy. I gathered myself and began texting everyone I knew. This was the greatest moment in my baseball life. Yes, better than the Rays actually reaching the World Series in 2008. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But it did.
***
Can such a day ever happen again in baseball? Can we all experience the extreme highs and lows of watching four games with play-off implications on the final day of the season? Maybe one day. But for now, the final day of the 2011 season, game 162, was the greatest regular season day in baseball history.