OK, I don't want to put too much stock into any single win at this point in the season. One game at a time and all that jazz, right?
However, there was something about last night's White Sox game with the Yankees that screamed, "Gotta have it!" The Sox had already been swept in the Bronx a few weeks back. They had already dropped the opening game of their current homestand the night before to the Angels. The deficit to the Tigers had reached double digits. The Twins had already won earlier in the night and were primed to pass the Sox. It seemed the universe was ominously swirling around the Sox and threatening to pick them up and carry them away to wherever failed repeat champions land and, worse, they were hardly putting up a fight.
Somehow, had the Sox not won last night, something would have seemed permanently broken. A feared downfall would have moved from the level of possible to inevitable. It would no longer be a funk the Sox ere in, but rather, a simple and clear inabilty to play with the best teams in the American League. And when Mariano Rivera stepped onto the mound for the ninth with the Yanks up 5-4, well, as much as I try to remain optimistic, I was almost ready to surrender, to give up the ghost, to call it all off.
And, of course, immediately write a scathing rant about how much the pitching sucks, how lame the bats are in the clutch, how Ozzie had blown it with his endless controversies this year, and how I was not tuning in anymore only to be pushed to the edge of madness.
Well, not just yet.
Paul Konerko's game-tying homer in the bottom of the ninth, and Jermaine Dye's game-winning single in the 11th changed everything. Everything. Did they save everything? I don't know. That remains to be seen. Again, let's not put too much stock into one game. There are still two more showdowns with the Yanks followed by a series with the Tigers. Yesterday is done and gone.
But the Sox needed that one. Badly. They got it. A win tonight would be just as nice.
Here we go now.