The 2003 Boston baseball season cannot end tonight at Fenway Park. It's too early. We're not ready.
It's not yet time for pumpkin harvests or trips to Groton to pick apples. It's too early for storm windows, too early to fire up the furnace. There's daylight at the dinner hour. You can still drive a shovel into the ground.
Still time for baseball.
The prospect of no more Red Sox means no more fun. This has been a magical summer at the Fens and it simply can't end tonight in a one-and-only home playoff game. Like the marching band that refuses to yield the field in Don MacLean's "American Pie," Red Sox Nation continues to pledge allegiance, refusing to let go of the dream.
And so the citizens will come to the ballpark early, wearing their red, singing songs, and carrying signs about the comeback from 0-2 against Cleveland four years ago. They will party like it's 1999.
They will bow at the altar of Brother Lowe, praying for a series of ground balls that will be flawlessly scooped and thrown by Sox infielders. They will pray for Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz to return to their slugging ways. They'll put a padlock on the Sox bullpen gate and hire Hells Angels to protect and imprison the gas can gang. They'll gaze longingly at the Monster Seats that became the trendiest nightspot in Boston this summer. Take a good look at those Monster Seat ticket stubs, too. There's no way those ducats will be going for $50 a pop in 2004. Might as well try buying a Snickers for a nickel.
The price of viewing from atop the Wall won't be the only thing different at Fenway next year. That's another reason why it's so important the Red Sox extend their season tonight. The last Fenway game of 2003 could be the last game for Grady Little as manager. It could be the last game for Nomar Garciaparra at shortstop (gulp). Who knows. It could even be the end of the Manny era.
Ray Charles shed his infinite grace on Fenway Park on Opening Day and Bruce Springsteen blessed the ballpark in September. In between, there were moments that reminded baby boomers of the Cardiac Kids of 1967. At the same time, a new generation of Sox fans was introduced to the wonders of Boston baseball in a playoff hunt.
When the Sox last played at Fenway there was an over-the-top, champagne-drenched, wild-card celebration that enabled players to mingle with the fans, but also underscored the burden that comes with playing here. No other franchise, no other fandom, would celebrate clinching a wild-card berth with such large portions of relief and exhilaration. Kevin Millar, Derek Lowe, and Todd Walker actually ran across Boylston Street in their cleats and toasted fans at the gritty Baseball Tavern. It was a giant exhale as Sox players behaved like 25 Sally Fields, squealing, "You like us! You really like us!"
That was the same night Walker said the Sox were ready to "roll into Oakland, whip some ass, and go from there."
Didn't happen. Oakland was a nightmare, two losses that ended less than 16 hours apart. Oakland did not make an error. The A's got great bullpen work. They smothered the Red Sox with pitching and defense.
If the Red Sox don't win this series, Game 1 in Oakland goes into the Frazee vault, alongside the other heinous acts we've known for all these years. Messrs. Little and Kim (not to be confused with Lil' Kim) might as well go to Suffolk County Court and apply for name changes: McNamara and Schiraldi.
The 2003 Red Sox have bounced back every other time things like this happened. They weren't able to do it Thursday -- Barry Zito was too good -- but there's still time to get it going back at home where the freshly sheared Millar says, "we kill the baseball."
The Red Sox were 58-23 at Fenway this year.
So there. More ball to be played and more games to be won or the magic ride is going to end, leaving the region with an empty "Is that all there is" feeling.
The Red Sox need to make a statement tonight. They need to prolong the summer. They need to say, "not yet."
Trust me when I tell you that the sight of hot dog wrappers swirling around an empty Yawkey Way at 1 a.m. after the last game of another season-ending playoff loss is not a pretty thing.
Dan Shaughnessy is a Boston Globe Columnist.
This column ran in The Boston Globe on October 4, 2003.
Copyright 2003 Globe Newspaper Company.