A few years back, I was under-employed at a crappy desk job at Tufts University. The one benefit to my low status was that they would have to pay me overtime to come in and work during commencement weekend. Most everyone else in my building did, and after setting up and logistics sessions on Friday night and all day Saturday, and the actual ceremonies Sunday, everyone would end up really dragging on Monday. One of my co-workers, Jim, wandered around mid-morning, waving two tickets from his 10 game plan in the bleachers -- of course one of the games was the night after commencement. And of course he had no desire to go. Would anyone take them off him, no charge? The last time he had just not gone and left the tickets unused, Buchholz had thrown a no hitter.
Rested and ready, I said, "Sure, I'll take 'em."
I tend to start the "what if?" way too soon when I'm at a game. If no one has gotten on after the third inning, I'm cocking an eyebrow. "I mean...he could?" Obviously, the dream eventually dies. But Lester was dealing, and the Royals had no answer. My then-girlfriend, now-wife likes going to games but doesn't really like the game, if that makes sense. Some time in the sixth, she was looking at the scoreboard, and saying, "Huh." She knew not to say anymore.
The clusters of intoxicated fratty bros, some perhaps celebrating their recent graduations, still yelled jokes at each other and tried to get the crowd to start the wave. But only when the Sox were batting. When Jon came back on the bump, everyone was focused.
There may have been games when I screamed louder at the end. But I don't recall a louder communal sound than after that last strike, all of us throwing as much noise as we could on the man with his two arms in the air. After everything he had been through, and all he had already done for the team -- we were so happy to be there to witness.
On Tuesday morning at work, the only interaction I had with Jim was when he walked by my desk and said, "I don't to fucking hear about it." He may be the only person I know who hasn't heard me talk about that game. It was, to date, my last trip to Fenway as a full time resident of Massachusetts. And the best game I've ever been to. Thanks for everything, Jon. I hope we can surround you with noise again soon.