Tonight, we stand on the edge of history, not yet defeated, not yet diminished, but alive with a spark that only the faithful, only the resilient, only the bold would recognize. We’ve felt the damnation of those first three games—felt it in every pitch, every missed opportunity, every moment that made us question why we’re still holding on. But then came Game 4, that wild, awakening burst of life. That relentless offense reminded us that belief isn’t just in the math, not in the odds, but in the heart. And what’s a World Series if not a test of heart?
So here we are, taking that first step back up the mountain, guided by a reminder that the climb is possible. One win doesn’t erase the hole we’re in, but it plants a flag. We’ve won one, and why shouldn’t we win eventually two? And by the end of the week, three more? Who better to lead this charge than our ace, Gerrit Cole? He’s been through the fire, he’s carried the weight, and tonight, he’s carrying the torch forward. This isn’t just another game for him or for any of us—it’s the one that matters, because it’s the one that keeps us alive.
And yes, I’ll be there in person, just another heart in the crowd, feeding the energy, the hope, the stubborn belief that impossible things do happen. Why not this team? Why not these Yankees? Because belief doesn’t come with guarantees, but with guts, with grit, with the power to take the next step even when it seems all but lost.
The work has just begun. The task is monumental, but so is the chance, right here, right now, to make history, to stand where no team has stood before—to be down 3-0 and rise to win it all. Let’s take this one pitch at a time, one inning at a time, knowing that the impossible is possible. It is here. It is now. It is us.
So here we are, taking that first step back up the mountain, guided by a reminder that the climb is possible. One win doesn’t erase the hole we’re in, but it plants a flag. We’ve won one, and why shouldn’t we win eventually two? And by the end of the week, three more? Who better to lead this charge than our ace, Gerrit Cole? He’s been through the fire, he’s carried the weight, and tonight, he’s carrying the torch forward. This isn’t just another game for him or for any of us—it’s the one that matters, because it’s the one that keeps us alive.
And yes, I’ll be there in person, just another heart in the crowd, feeding the energy, the hope, the stubborn belief that impossible things do happen. Why not this team? Why not these Yankees? Because belief doesn’t come with guarantees, but with guts, with grit, with the power to take the next step even when it seems all but lost.
The work has just begun. The task is monumental, but so is the chance, right here, right now, to make history, to stand where no team has stood before—to be down 3-0 and rise to win it all. Let’s take this one pitch at a time, one inning at a time, knowing that the impossible is possible. It is here. It is now. It is us.