I do believe pigs have flown. Hell has frozen over. And, unfortunately for the Rangers, the fat lady has sung her final notes.
For you see, for the first time in franchise history, the Rangers have made it to the WORLD SERIES! And in a proud moment for the Edwards family, I was the first family member to ever attend a World Series game, thanks to my awesome friend Christin.
We arrived early and excited, tickets in hand.
Inside the Ballpark, the feeling was electric. It was surreal to see this:
I almost had to pinch myself…I couldn’t believe this was actually happening…and I was actually THERE!!
We found our seats, which were very close to the ones Matt and I used to sit in during our 3-year mini-plan stint, and the ones we sat in during the ill-fated ALDS loss of ’99.
Brooks took it all in, mesmerized by the sights, the sounds, and the intensity of the atmosphere.
The ceremonial first pitch was a special thrill for the true Rangers fan as Fergie Jenkins threw to former battery-mate Jim “Sunny” Sundberg. Thank goodness they weren’t wearing those powder-blue uniforms of their era. (Though as a UNC Tarheel, I’m sure Christin wouldn’t have minded. In fact, she might have even thought they were beautiful.)
It’s always a thrill to see the presentation of the colors, but watching the Marines gives me goosebumps.
And then it was game time! Cliff Lee threw out the “real” first pitch…a strike, right down the heart of the plate.
Unfortunately, the game did not turn in the Rangers favor. With the Giants holding a secure lead through most of the game, we turned our attention to some of the more interesting things around us…like unusually colored fans:
And Rangers Captain, holding a “Fear the Claw” sign:
Not to worry, though, I did my part to spur the Rangers on to a mighty comeback, blowing the Vuvusela and sporting my rally cap:
Alas, it was not to be. The Rangers were felled by the mighty Giants, who celebrated with their fans following a well-deserved, well-played world series. I couldn’t let those nice gentlemen behind us return to San Francisco without a special souvenir of their experience here, so I gave them a rally towel and made them promise to hang it with pride on their wall, framed. I’m pretty sure they did just that.
And in return, I got a San Francisco Giants scarf, which I wore – not necessarily with pride – back to the car. It’s now found a permanent home tucked away in the back of some closet somewhere in my house, sharing space with the dust bunnies.
Better luck next year, Rangers.
(on a side note…people can say what they want about Rangers fans, how we need to be “spurred on” or “choreographed” to cheer or make noise. But at the end of the game, when the Giants had won and clinched the series, I was never more proud to be a Rangers fan. Because all around us, the Rangers faithful stood in honor of the Giants’ win and applauded their accomplishment. The Giants fans that sat behind us cheered wildly…and received congratulations, handshakes, pats on the back and high-fives from several wearing Ranger red around them. You don’t find that kind of sportsmanship in professional sports very often. Well-played, Rangers fans. I’m proud to be part of Rangers Nation.)