Random thoughts (which I shouldn't be writing because I don't have time, but I never have time, so it appears that now is as good a time as any):

Signs of the Apocalypse: A Meditation of the Irrational, the Exuberant, the Faithful, the Blind, the Miasma, and Why That All Pleases Me.

(1) Joy In Mudville:

The Red Sox Won The Pennant. The Red Sox won the World Series. The Red Sox Beat The Yankees. The Red Sox Came Back from 3 Games to 0, from within 3 outs of elimination in the ALCS, to topple the Evil Empire, to sweep through the Midwest (0 for 4, Sorry Cards - October is never Tony LaRussa's time of year anyway - magical World Series moments are made against him, not for him. Takes a natural disaster - be it of 7.2 magnitude on the Richter scale or simply by the name of the SF Giants to bring him a championship ring). The Red Sox silence the smug Yankee fans. Rooting for the house in blackjack is not indicative of strong character. It indicates only a strong predilection for bon-bons and whining. It builds no heart. The Red Sox Win the World Series. They make an inordinate amount of errors along the way (heart palpitations all around), but they win nonetheless. The Nation rejoices (except for A-Rod and Jeter - too busy frolicking - and the black hearted aforementioned Yankee fans).

Question: Why was the experience all so moving to me? I am not a Red Sox fan. Never have been. Spent four years in Boston. Never picked up the bug that is Red Sox Nation. So why the tears, the joy, the elation, the giddiness, the deep-seated satisfaction, the unrelenting grin?

Answer: Because all lessons in life were encompassed in this magical October.

• LESSON #1: Evil is Fallible. Pinstripes, cash, a smirk and a steady stream of condescension put you on a collision course with karma. Fly a little too close to the sun, blind yourself to real problems, trade for a $250M shortstop-cum-thrid baseman who is a little too pretty, and the result, in the end, will always be the same. You get what is coming to you. 26 World Championships. True enough. But no one - no one - will forget the world's most spectacular collapse of four straight games in the ALCS when coming within 1 out of victory. It wasn't lack of skill. It was a classic Wizard of Oz problem - no brains, no courage, no heart.
• LESSON #2: Why not us? The ode to Schill' was to take place a little further down this list, but now is as good a time as any. So this man makes a promise to the longest suffering fans (if not in the measure of years, then in tragic near misses and resultant lamentations thereof) of the world's most exhilarating and yet heart-breaking sport. He promises them they can win. They can be the king of the mountain. They can be "that guy." They can take home all the marbles for once. They can decide whether to take the lump sum or pro-rated payments over the next 20 years. They could be Miss America. This would be their prerogative. He would deliver to them the joy and they, like children with a bag of long awaited candy, could decide what to do with it. They all thought he was crazy - the members of this ragged brethren of suffering souls, as did the rest of us, observers of the game, of the long-standing vigil in the northeast at the precipice of that large green wailing wall in left field. The MLB thought him crazy too. http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/columns/story?columnist=stark_jayson&id=1683054
• The contract provision making the promise one of legal tender was nullified. There would be no paper to back this promise up. Nevermind. In the end, there really was no need. What surfaced instead was the following - this blue t-shirt. Cotton and colors, spelling out one simple phrase: "Why not us?" It got a lot of attention in the press, then and now. There is a certain sense of it being revolutionary. However, the magic is in the fact that the revolution, the resultant victory, were based on words the brethren had had access to, had in fact been using, over and over, all along - then entire drawn out, nearly century long journey. "Why not us?" "Why not us?" "Why not us?" How many times had the words been repeated over the years. Babe. "Why Not Us?" No, no Nannette. "Why Not Us?" Bill Buckner. "Why Not Us?" Clemens. "Why Not Us?" Grady Little. "Why Not Us?" Over and over. So where was the revolution in the t-shirt? In the phraseology? In the timing? No. The Revolution was in the source. A man who can be described in conflicting terms - which make him as unpopular as they make him awe inspiring - a man who is both heroic and audacious. He is a man who believes. He believes in himself. He does not hesitate to let everyone know that. It grates. It is difficult. It has been overpowering to teammates and managers alike in the past. And yet. It was this power, this energy, this jarring audacity, that was necessary - that set it all into motion. He was the one who asked, rather than cried out, "Why not us?" He refocused the query from lamentation, to incantation. This man believed. He believed in himself. He made incredible things happen before. He had beaten the Evil Empire before. He had done so almost single handedly. He could help here. He believed he could do it. He believed they could do it. He believed it could get done. On top of that, he was not afraid to say it. So he said it. And he said it. And he said it again. Were the motives purely altruistic? One suspects not. There is a sealing of his legacy that goes along with this feat. It feeds the ego. All those deciding how to memorialize the moment, as well as the man point to this. But they don't get it. It doesn't matter. Whatever the myth is, it was the man that the team needed. Someone with such unmitigated gall, such unabashed hubris, he could speak the unspeakable, mention the unmentionable, think the unthinkable. And then, of all things, back it up. The message, the magic, needed to be one of words and action. That is what they needed, that is what they got. The psychological state of the RSN, of their team, of their collective psyche was such that they were their own self-fulfilling prophecy. They couldn't see past the next bobbled ground ball. The next departed superstar. Yet Nomah was shipped off. There were 8 errors in the first 2 games of the World Series. They still won. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't elegant. It wasn't pretty. Neither are they. But they won. They won because of guts. Because of heart. Because of courage. Because of faith. Because they dared to believe. Because they ignored Tim McCarver. Because it was destiny. Because (as Manny Ramirez stated in an appropos Yogi-ism) it was destination. Curt Schilling asked "Why not us?" and, in doing so, tipped the downtrodden faces of the Red Sox brethren up ever so slightly so that they faces the sky, the sun, the stars, the moon, the possibilities. All in one brief moment that is 162 games in an 86 year vigil.
• LESSON #3: Redemption of Magic Moments
• LESSON #4: Heroes Can Be Made
• LESSON #5: New Chapters - though scary and inconceivable - Are Made To Be Lived
• LESSON #6: Happy, Happy. Joy, Joy.
• LESSON #7: Outcomes Are Not Determined By Your Color Commentators.
• LESSON $8: The Best Things Can Happen When There Are 2 Strikes Against You and You Step Up To The Plate.
• LESSON #9: It is Not Destiny - It is A Destination.
• LESSON #10: I Believe.