October Spawned a (Green)Monster

They say that baseball is a game designed to break your heart and the Detroit Tigers just spent the last week proving that to be true.  After Game 2 I was angry and had lost hope, Game 3 proved me right, but then came Game 4...wait, maybe we can do this.  Ah, but Game 5 was again cruel and I was certain that my need to live and die with ever pitch was over.  The final flickers of the dream had been extinguished.  I approached Game 6 with less a sense of interest and more a sense of duty.  How could I NOT watch?  So I spent the day dreading 8:07pm.

Then Max Scherzer began to weave another gem, inning after inning raising hopes along with blood pressure.  Next came Victor Martinez and his soaring double off the Monster. Two run lead, runners on the corners, NO outs...now I find myself mumbling, "We are going to witness something VERY special with JV on the hill tomorrow".  Tomorrow?  A few innings ago that word wasn't even in my vocabulary. 

Dreams die hard, like a 300 pound 1st baseman comically flopping to the dirt, 8 feet shy of the bag. 

But then there was Max again, "I got this guys, to hell with the Cy Young award, I want a ring!"  Maybe it's destiny, maybe the baseball Gods will not allow the relentlessly brilliant pitching of these front line warriors to go unrewarded.  

An insurance run or two could seal the deal.  Speedster on first, good bat handler at the plate, top of the order due next.

Dreams die hard, like a tag slapped to the wrist, just inches short of the bag. 

Still, we have the lead and a bulldog on the mound. Alas, in 2013 pitch counts overrule the Gods, this game will be decided by the pen. 

 Dreams die hard, like a baseball rattling into the steely jaws of a waiting Monster. 

Unfair, unkind and most of all cruel.  This is how baseball seasons end for all but the most fortunate few.  I wish I could have simply witnessed this as a baseball fan and not a Tiger baseball fan.  What the pitchers did in this series was remarkable.  Sadly, the magnificence of JV, Max, Fister and Sanchez will soon be forgotten to most of the baseball world.  Lasting memories are reserved for champions with hardware, not simply heart.    

Dreams die hard.  See you in Lakeland boys.