On a cold night on October 28th, 2011, I’d be remised
if I didn’t touch base on what has been an amazing World Series between the
Texas Rangers and St. Louis Cardinals. Usually, yours truly will touch base on
the most memorable moments after the season is completed (Remembering The 2010 MLB Season), but the 2011 World
Series brought a different dynamic for the game of baseball.
A World Series that did not feature the mega-market ratings
grabbers in the New Yorks, Bostons, Chicagos, Philadelphias, and Los Angeleses, yet, Dallas-Forth Worth and St. Louis gave us the type of World Series that
baseball has needed for awhile. It was a series that not only kept the die-hards
interested, but reeled in the casual and the sporadic fan.
It was a World Series that had intense drama, various
storylines, and reintroduced a key aspect that makes the game of baseball such a beautiful thing.
It was the type of World Series that saw a guy like Arthur
Rhodes, who has pitched what feels like since Roosevelt was in office, finally on the other side of a moment.
It was the type of series that saw Albert Pujols, the game’s
greatest player, and the world’s most underrated athlete, make history by smashing three homeruns in one World Series game,
including one that might have induced foundation damage to the facing of the left
field upper deck.
It was the type of series that had blown leads, memorable
comebacks, miscommunication calls to the bullpen, and the most energetic and
entertaining manager in baseball.
It was the type of series that saw an honorable story and
man named Josh Hamilton, fight through the pain of a groin injury to perform on
the game’s biggest stage.
It was the type of series that saw Chris Carpenter, another
former Blue Jay from the Roy Halladay mold exhibit the knowledge from his
apprenticeship.
It was the type of series that saw a team in the Texas
Rangers only a strike away from a World championship – twice! – yet, ended
the season watching another team celebrate for the second straight year.
It was the type of series that – as much as I hate to admit – proves there are passionate baseball fans outside of the Northeast. And most
importantly, that baseball is indeed alive, well, and healthy as a sport,
entity, business, and tradition.
Speaking of tradition, it was the type of World Series that
gave us chills and shades of Jack Buck via his son Joe Buck in another Game 6 walk-off, “We will see you…tomorrow night!”
It was the type of series where a player named David
Freese, who grew up listening to Jack Buck and rooting for the Cardinals, not only
saved the series with a two out triple and forced a Game 7 with a walk-off
homerun, but became World Series MVP.
Who didn't have those dreams in the backyard playing wiffle ball? Or on the asphalt playing stickball?
Quite frankly, this was the type of series that
proved that baseball is the only sport that can turn grown men into little boys
with big dreams again.
The greatest sport on earth.