Red Sox Hit Bottom

Eventually, a test of allegiance becomes a celebration of Sisyphusian suffering. Red Sox fans too young to remember the lessons of the 1980's and 1990's, who became fans during the easy glory of the 2000's, should now "get it". Yes, October 20, 2004 was a great night, but mythic misery has always been part of what it means to be a Red Sox fan - and last night's game was a powerful dose.

Exercise: Sit in an opposing ballpark and score a defensive half inning during which your team's pitchers allow nine runs to nine opposing batters, while recording no outs.

Extra Credit: Execute above Exercise while sitting with loud, slightly drunk (possibly high?), and suddenly cocky, opposing fans.

Last night was "the" last night, and one of the worst nights, in a year that began on September 1, 2011, when the "greatest ever" Sox were 31 games over 500, and owners of a 1.5 game lead in the AL East. Their epic 2011 collapse has been cataloged by many others, but as an eyewitness, I can tell you how the Red Sox completed a horrible night (L, 20-2), capped a truly horrible month (9-20), and ended an historically horrible year of baseball (.615 to .434 win pct).

Dire Forecasts. The Boston Red Sox arrived in Oakland after suffering a sweep in Los Angeles, of Anaheim. The Athletics returned from a 6-1 road trip, and a four-game sweep of the Tribe in Cleveland. One other team joined them on the field - the Petaluma Little League Allstars, recently feted by folks far and near for their stunning ten-run, last-inning rally in the US Championship game. Losers. Winners. Losers who felt like winners. Their gathering was a prelude.

The Quiet. The pitchers were Cook (BOS) vs. McCarthy (OAK). The first two Red Sox batters, Podsednik and Pedroia reached on singles. Ellsbury ground into a 3-4 double-play that advanced Podsednik to third base, where he was stranded by Ross. The A's went 1-2-3 in the bottom of the first.

Outer Bands. In the second, the Sox put runners on second and third with one out and could not score them. In the bottom half, the first four A's hitters reached and scored: Cespedes singled, Moss doubled scoring Cespedes, Gomes singled scoring Moss, Donaldson homered scoring Moss and himself. Athletics 4. Red Sox 0.

The Eye. The Sox went 1-2-3 in the top of the third; in the bottom, the A's plated two more, on doubles by Reddick and Moss, and chased Cook (L, 2.2-7-6-0-0) from the game. Saltalamacchia homered for the Sox in the top of the fourth, and Tazawa pitched a clean bottom frame (two Ks). The A's were up 6-1, but at least the Sox seemed to be playing baseball again.

Storm. The Sox went 1-2-3 in the fifth. In the A's half, Tazawa was lifted for Aceves, who hit Cespedes with a 2-2 cutter, then threw another 2-2 cutter to Moss. Moss knocked it around the right field pole, upper deck. A's 8-1. In the top of the sixth, Pedroia and Ross singled around an Ellsbury ground out, but they could not score the runner from third with one out. Bottom six, Bard spelled Aceves, got Donaldson to pop out, then threw five straight fastballs to Kottaras. Kottaras hit the last one over the right field wall. A's 9-1.

Levee Breach. In the seventh, the Sox offense eked out a run: Ciriaco singled, Iglesias was hit by a pitch, A's starter McCarthy (W, 6.1-8-2-0-1) was relieved by Figueroa, Gomez pinch hit for Podsednik, the runners moved up on a wild pitch, and Gomez hit a slow grounder down the third base line to score Ciriaco. In the bottom of the seventh, Breslow took over for Bard, and got Reddick to pop out. The next nine A's in succession would reach and score:

1. Cespedes singled on a ground ball to left 
2. Moss singled on a soft line drive to center
3. Gomes walked
4. Donaldson reached on fielding error by Gomez, Cespedes scored
5. Kottaras singled on a ground ball to right,  Moss scored, Gomes scored; pitching change, Melancon for Breslow; pinch-runner Rosales for Donaldson
6. Pennington doubled on a line drive to right, Rosales scored
7. Crisp walked
8. Drew singled on a line drive to left, Kottaras scored
9. Reddick hit a grand slam to right, everyone else scored

Athletics 18, Red Sox 2.

Federal Relief Effort. Top eight, the Red Sox got a single and walk from Ellsbury and Ross. Loney ground into a 6-3 double-play, and Salty stranded Ells at third. Bottom eight, the A's got a double from Rosales and another homer from Kottaras. The Sox went 1-2-3 in the ninth. Final, A's 20, Red Sox 2.

After all that, my friend David pointed out, the A's left only three runners on base.

Before 2004, Red Sox fans were known as lovable losers: passionate, knowledgeable, able to absorb tremendous bone-headedness. If you were a fan, really, there was no choice but to absorb bone-headedness. And there was always next year. I've tried to live outside that image, and as I've read the posts of other Sox fans, I know many others have tried to do the same.

We never believed in the Curse and we never called ourselves a Nation. Writers in need of selling newspapers made that stuff up, spread it around, and now we all own it. We did not need the myths; the insane drama on the field was enough. When we lost, we lost big, and it hurt - but most other fans (Yankees fans can skip this part) acknowledged our pain: Sox fan? Yeah, I can respect that. But I did not want or welcome what seemed like pity, though it may have something more. From my experience, losing did not make me "cursed", nor did I want to be "lovable". Losing did not even make me sad - it made me angry. Sometimes, it made me physically sick.

We were told by the sports scribes that championships in 2004 and 2007 "changed" us from pitiable to pushy - Yankees fans without the pinstripes. We won, we won big, and we enjoyed it. No one acknowledged our pain cause there wasn't any, and I, for one, did not notice the loss of it.

But winning gave me only a sense of karma, not comfort. All the talk of burying ghosts? I still remembered '86. '99, and '03. From 2003-08, we had gone from losers who were winners, to winners who were losers. And then, at the end of 2011, we were just plain losers. I was not looking for sympathy. I did not get any sympathy. Other fans, who, in the past, may have offered a handshake, if not a shoulder, were gone.

Anyway, one doesn't support a team to seek solace from others. Condolence does not enter into one's thinking, and neither does self-pity. Donna and I moved to Boston in 1986 and got caught up in the energy of a pennant race and a playoff run. We became fans.

It just happens to you.

What is that tribal thing, that human quality that makes us align ourselves to a team, invest our emotion in a bunch of ball players? To root? To learn Sweet Caroline (I kinda hate that song, but I do know the lyrics)? To believe? And what do you do when that faith fails you?

I made a silent promise to myself to try ignore the Red Sox this year. Last year hurt a lot, and I needed a break - I live in Berkeley now, I should follow the Giants, or hey (forehead-slap), the A's. But I'm a loyal person; being a Red Sox fan is part of me. I could not stay away - but for this one game.

Please let this be the bottom.

I write this post not to wallow, but to sincerely try, with every fiber of being a fan, to put a very bad year behind; to try to clear my thoughts by them writing down. Like a bluesman singing it out, I'm looking for a catharsis - if not to start healing, to at least stop hurting.

• It's gotta end sometime. Doubront vs. Griffin. 6:05PM game time (@ Athletics, L 1-7).
• How about now? Matsuzaka vs. Anderson. 1:05PM game time (@ Athletics, L 2-6).
• Maybe it'll end today? Buchholtz vs. Vargas. 1:10PM game time (@ Mariners, L 1-4).
• Gonna be this next one. Lester vs. Beavan. 7:10PM game time  (@ Mariners, W 4-3).