The customary bottle of red wine was uncorked at the top of the 9th. The glass was poured at the bottom of the 9th, and drunk after the third out. Up on the shelf by the new home office space are four Unibroue bottles, one for each game of the series. (The Maudite is there, of course, as well as the Chambly Noire, which I enjoyed, and the Terrible, a 10.5% buzzjob that tastes good while it gets you enjoyable toasty. Vive la biere Quebecoise!)
The bottle of dry red (which, with a little victory added, tasted very sweet) will probably be finished tomorrow night after the first Tomes of Terror II performance.
Outside we went. You could hear the celebration sounds even three blocks away. Called Dad on the cellphone; he answered with "They did it!" Indeed they did. Walked down College Ave. At one point I could hear celebrations from over on Elm Street as well as slightly up Holland, probably near the Orleans bar. The Tufties were in full force, some of them not yet out of high school when the Sox reversed the Curse in 2004. I thought how interesting it was that three years ago I watched the final World Series in the same house, only then it wasn't yet my house. Maybe this is a lucky house.
The crowd on Elm wasn't as packed as it was in 2004. Back then, the victory was inconceivable. Folks had waited decades for that moment and when the moment came, all of Davis Square, it seemed, had turned out to pack Elm Street from one side to the other. We were all clustered in, cheering and cold but happy and finally getting the chance to share the fact that WE'RE #1 with everybody else who already knew about it but maybe kinda coulda used a bit of reminding.
Now, well, we had won again, and it was all fine and dandy, damn fine and dandy, but the crowd was certainly thinner, albeit rowdier, than last time. It was mosly the younger Tufties who were dancing and flailing about in the streets; us older folks stood on the sidewalk and smiled benevolently. I do admit my smile was with slight chagrin since it was clear that, unlike 2004, this was not a victory that had been anticipated and then savored well and sweet; this was a victory that had been chugged. Maybe with even a kegstand.
The crowd outside the Joshua Tree (which, I guess, included the inhabitants of Mike's and the Burren and Redbone's and Diva Lounge if they were unhip enough to go outside and maybe Sligo if they could find the door handle) was festive, young and rowdy, prone to breaking into spontaneous choruses of "Sweet Caroline" when nobody was looking. Didn't hear "Tessie" sung, though, but the feller on the harmonica in the square when the Sox won the pennant I think did the song the best amount of justice.
NUMBER OF TIMES "SWEET CAROLINE" WAS SUNG (CHORUS ONLY): 2
HERE WE GO RED SOX, HERE WE GO chants: 2
WE'RE NUMBER ONE chants: 1
YANKEES SUCK chants: 1
LET'S GO PATS chants: someone started one but it went nowhere
Not even the 87 Bus is spared. It will arrive at Lechmere later than usual thanks to the crowd who surrounded it.
Every celebration must have its one Jackass, who risks life and limb for the sake of celebration and the entertainment of others, and here was ours: Shirtless Dude, who jumped on the backs of cars to ride them a ways down Elm (as seen here albeit blurry); who humped the front bumpers of cars in gleeful abandon, and who fell ass over teakettle several times and it's a wonder he hasn't received any major injuries yet. Of course, he's probably drunk enough that he won't feel a thing until late tomorrow afternoon, at which point he'll notice the bits of gravel stuck in his back from when he fell off the back of the car and did a few rolls on the ground.
Then the police came by and forced everybody back onto the sidewalk. Some folks cheered the sirens; others booed as if their fun had been taken away. Of course, once the police passed it was back to the streets as normal. That's about the time I went home.
I still think Ellsbury shoulda been named MVP, though Mike Lowell and his bushy RBIbrows did indeed do amazing things.