Facing elimination in Game 6, the Cardinals were down to
their last strike on two separate occasions. As had been the case since late
August, when their improbable run to the playoffs began, when they found
themselves with their backs to the wall, the wall became more than 45,000
cheering fans, and the collective enthusiasm of an entire city, pushing them
forward, holding them up. Even beyond the remarkable athleticism and skill of
individual players that produced not one, not two, but three decisive hits (a
tying two-run triple, a decisive RBI single, and a walk-off home run) in the 9th through 11th innings, the
cohesion of the team and the devotion of its fervent followers created a
memorable spectacle that is the essence of outstanding baseball.
Having lived for three years in St. Louis, and now in my
third year living in Worcester, I’m familiar with cities and regions where a
baseball team is more than just a group of players for whom to cheer– it’s a family
that inspires an even broader community of devotion, support, and strong
emotional involvement. During the offseason, one sees plenty of Cardinals or
Red Sox apparel in everyday situations around those respective cities, worn by
the full spectrum of the local population. There are jokes– not entirely
without the ring of truth– that baseball is something of a religion for its
most fervent followers, myself increasingly included. The greatest players,
whether they’ve established long, successful careers or emerged at a crucial
juncture to contribute some timely heroics, are honored, revered, and admired.
These teams’ victory parades in celebration of World Series titles drew nearly a
million people to the streets over the past several years.
I’m a firm believer in the value of community, on scales
ranging from the local to the global. True community living does bring
challenges alongside clear benefits of support, happiness, and good company, as
I’ve learned in seven years of life as a Jesuit. The hundreds of thousands who
united to cheer on the Cardinals likely have their share of differences about
the neuralgic issues provoking heated rhetoric and creating affliction and
tension throughout our nation. While those concerns hardly disappear during a
game of baseball, I can’t help but hope in the possibility of transferring that
energy to the realm of our nation’s key social issues, rallying around
something greater than our differences, deeper than our worries, and more
lasting than the thrill of a decisive win or a festive victory parade. Game 6
of the World Series taught me a powerful lesson– community makes it really hard
to simply give up in the face of adversity, despair, or a situation that many
could justifiably consider hopeless. The Cardinals, in standing tall with true
determination each time they were pushed to the brink of defeat, not only
achieved a remarkable and unprecedented triumph, but also affirmed the
confidence of an entire city, and offered the entire nation a sterling example
of teamwork. I hope that they can inspire some similar comebacks in our
neighborhoods, our cities, and our nation. Otherwise, it’s going to be a very
long offseason.
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