October 13, 2013

12:00 A.M. October 14, 2013. As my dad and I filed out of the stadium in the mob of cheering fans, my mind was cluttered like New York City during rush hour. Just a few hours ago it seemed like a normal night in New England. The streets of Boston were buzzing with tourists, locals, and Sox fans getting ready for another playoff game, but it ended up being the exact opposite. A legend added to his resume with a play that will be forever immortalized in Boston sports history. Little did I know just a couple hours ago, I witnessed one of the greatest moments in the history of the sport. You never know when a day is going to be special, and my experience on October 13, 2013 proves just that.

April 23, 7:30 P.M. As I sat down to write this, I wanted to show how nutty this night was. The craziness of this night could not be well represented if I told this story in order. The suspense and excitement were also very present on October 13, so I wanted this narrative to reflect that. Making this story jump from time to time was necessary to make the reader feel how I felt. That night, it did not feel real. My mind was racing everywhere, and so is this story.

At 8:00 A.M. on October 13, 2013, I woke up with a little bit of extra excitement. My dad and I were at my grandparents’ house in Braintree, Massachusetts, and we were planning on heading to Gillette Stadium to watch the Patriots take on the New Orleans Saints. It was going to be my first Patriots game. It was also supposed to be my first opportunity to see the greatest quarterback of all time work his magic. I eagerly pulled my Tom Brady jersey over my head and flew down the stairs to breakfast. I strolled into the kitchen and my dad looks up from watching SportsCenter to say, “Hey bud, I have good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?” As I always do when I hear this, I told him to give me the bad news.

11:19 P.M. The stage was set for a hollywood ending. Bases loaded with two outs for the heartbeat of the Red Sox organization stepping up to the plate with the song, “F**k with me you know I got it” blaring through the speakers. And my oh my, David Ortiz definitely had it. The music faded out and was replaced by the roar of of over 35,000 Red Sox fans on their feet chanting one man’s famous nickname: “PAPI, PAPI, PAPI, PAPI.” Joaquin Benoit had no clue Red Sox history would be changed forever after his next pitch. He took the sign from the catcher and went to his set.

8:02 A.M. The bad news ripped my heart apart. “We’re not going to the Pats game. I got outbid and the price is ridiculous now.”
“What? Now what are we going to do today? We drove all the way down here last night just to go back tonight?”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
“Huh?”
“You know how Mike has Sox season tickets?”
“Uh-huh”
“He has two seats to tonight’s ALCS game that he’s not using. You in?”
“Of course! It’s a good thing i have a Sox shirt in my duffel bag!”

11:20 P.M. A double with one out put WIll Middlebrooks on second base. “Hey maybe the can scratch for a run or two this inning.” Jacoby Ellsbury draws a walk. “Now there’s potential for a big inning.” Next up, Dustin Pedroia. He singled and loaded the bases for Big Papi, David Ortiz. It didn’t seem real. “This kind of stuff happens in video games and movies. There is no way that this could actually have a Hollywood ending.”

8:05 P.M. There was an anxious feeling in Fenway Park that night. After being one-hit by Anibal Sanchez the night before, the Red Sox faithful did not want their team to go into Detroit down two games to none. This feeling only escalated as the game progressed. Rick Porcello was dealing. He shut down the Red Sox batters one by one through seven innings. The hope of the fans, myself included, was hanging in the balance after the top of the eighth inning. Down 5-1 heading into the home half of inning number eight, the Sox needed to get some runs back to ease the potential pressure of a nearly impossible ninth inning comeback. They did just that in a BIG way.

11:30 P.M. In the set, Benoit took a breath, lifted his leg, stretched his arm back, followed through. The crowd silenced and the ball hurtled towards the catcher’s glove like an asteroid. Even with the lights on him in one of the most important at bats of his career, Boston’s biggest star was not fazed. He took his customary timing step and swung his bat at the middle-away changeup. CRACK! The ball turned into a rocket heading to the moon. My hands subconsciously went into the air in anticipation of something special. It was high. It was deep. IT WAS GONE. David Ortiz hit a grand slam to tie the game! As soon as the ball went over the wall, Fenway Park turned into an uncontrollable frenzy. A deafening roar of cheers filled the air as our hero rounded the bases. The stadium was so loud you could probably hear the cheering from my house back in Maine. My feet left the ground as I started to jump and celebrate with my dad and the other 35,000 Red Sox fans in attendance. I high fived everybody within my reach with a huge grin on my face. My heart raced as I tried to process what had happened. As Ortiz took his well deserved curtain call, I realized how fortunate I was to be a part of this historic moment. I kept on cheering on the Sox for the rest of the night, but I did it with a humble feeling, knowing how many people would have loved to experience this too.

11:45 P.M. Even after such a pivotal moment, the show had to go on. The next batter got out, and the Tigers were up for the top of the ninth inning. Koji Uehara shut the door on any Tiger chances to score, and set up the red sox to finish this hollywood movie the way it should. With a win. With Jonny Gomes on third the Jarrod Saltalamacchia at the plate, it was about to happen. Salty hit a hard grounder through the infield. Gomes crossed the plate, sending Boston fans into chaos again. A walk-off win for the Red Sox was the most fitting ending for this historic night.