I cannot say that the last five years in sports has not been fruitful, seeing the Astros go to the World Series, the Colts finally beat the Pats not once but five times, and then win a Super Bowl and reach one other, LeBron James vilified and exposed as the fraud he really is, Rafael Nadal take over Federer's mantle as the best tennis player in the world, and Zinedine Zidane giving the world one last round of genius in the 2006 World Cup. No, the last five years have been about as good as a sports fan who doesn't live in Boston from 2003-2008, or a sports fan who hasn't sold his soul to the Yankees can possibly be. Yet the one thing missing was seeing Roy Oswalt pitch in October. That little man facing eight larger men with hard, wood bats is one of the joys of my sports life, and for five years it was gone. There are 8 year olds who have no recollection of Roy Oswalt ever pitching in the playoffs. Hell, there evidently are 40 and 50 year olds who don't as they recently listed Roy Oswalt (with his 2.76 ERA and 1.025 WHIP and .213 BAA) outside of the top-5 best pitchers in the playoffs. That all said, I miss seeing Oswalt pitch in October, and that wish will finally come true. Sports fans lives are built on wishes. I wish my team would win the World Series. I wish I would catch a foul ball. I wish I could be the coach. And in homage to Oswalt and the Phillies fulfilling that wish, here are the other memories of my sports life I wish I could stop missing.
I miss seeing Tiger Woods win. Some called it boring, some called it unfair, and now some call him the sleeziest character ever to grace Augusta National, even passing Hootie Johnson, but seeing him lap the field, or go four rounds without hitting a bunker, or taking each wannabes best shot (Chris DiMarco, anyone) and crushing them. Tiger Woods made me actually watch golf. Well, not really, but it made me think that watching golf was a possibility.
I miss seeing the old Roger Federer, and I can't believe I am saying this. The 5 years between Roy Oswalt playoff starts also spanned Federer winning 10 majors, but the reality was that the 2006 and 2007 Federer was the greatest tennis force we will ever see. They always say that you never appreciate greatness until it is gone. I say that you never love greatness until it is gone. Seeing Nadal rule the land is great, but having him rule a land that doesn't involve Fed at the top of his game is not the same. There was a sublime enjoyment I actually took seeing Federer beat Roddick 6-2 6-0 6-4 in the 2007 Australian Open, or his wins in 2006. I miss seeing Roger Federer effortlessly hit passing shots on the run. Coming into the net used to be death against Roger, but more than anything else, this part of his game has left him.
I miss seeing Devin Hester return punts. Of course, I might still see it, if the game against the Packers was any indication, but he will never be THAT Devin Hester again. The Bears really did ruin him by converting him to Wide Receiver. People may now love Joshua Cribbs, or Dexter McCluster, but no one was as good as Devin Hester. People planned around him, and he still returned punts for TDs. He was the Bears only offensive weapon in their 2006 Super Bowl season, had tons of pressure and media focus, and still wowed us all returning the opening kickoff for a TD. Devin Hester single-handidly won games. Devin Hester was good enough at getting the Bears field position that even with Rex Grossman as their quarterback, the Bears were second in the league in points scored in 2006.
I miss watching Barry Bonds bat. Fuck yes, I said it. Barry Bonds, steroids or not, was the greatest baseball player of my lifetime. Only Pujols has a chance to pass him. Barry Bonds put up steroids, but that didn't also enhance his eyes, as he was the most disciplined player ever, taking walk after walk. He would get about one pitch every three at bats that was worth swinging at, and more often than not, he would connect and hit it very far and very deep. Barry Bonds was a one-man offense. Barry Bonds made the Giants relevant, and made steroids banned from baseball. Barry Bonds, and his chase of every major home run record out there, was more the reason than anything else that steroid testing was finally allowed. When you have free time, go to baseball-reference.com and just look at Barry Bonds stats, just do it. Here's a little nugget. He had a slugging percentage of 1.292 in the 2002 World Series. Yes, that is slugging percentage, not OPS. He was the best.
Fuck it, it is time to admit it. I miss the Patriots dynasty. Not the 2007 Patriots, but the 2001-2004 Patriots. They were the team that anyone could love. They had a defense full of players who rose their play in every big game. The amazing respect I have for Willie McGinest, Tedy Bruschi, Mike Vrabel and Ty Law is strange, since I hate all of them for torturing me in 2001, 2003 and 2004. But how could you not love what they did. They won in all sorts of ways. They won games 38-31, and won games 9-3 in the same season. They didn't have the best quarterback (had to throw that in there). They didn't have the best skill position guys. They had the best team. Their defense would make every play. I miss a team that would hold the highest scoring offense to 3 points, and then score 41 on the best defense in the NFL. I miss the team whose myth started like most others, with Brady rising like a phoenix in the ashes of Bledsoe's demise (I think I am going to gouge out my eyeballs after writing that sentence). The Patriots defined team, and I miss them.
I miss the way sports used to be broadcasted, before it became movies in arenas, before everyone became addicted to what some dumbass was tweeting or where LeBumfuck was taking his talents. I miss the way sports used to be, before the Yankees starting having payrolls north of 150 million, or before the Patriots ran shotgun 70% of the time, or before everyone started anointing players who don't deserve it. I miss the old days, with the old theme songs. I miss Jim Nantz seeming likable and cool hosting CBS's pregame show, instead of exchanging gayful quips with Phil Simms. I miss the sports world where not almost every big media member was from Boston. I miss reading the Sports Guy and being entertained, and laughing at a joke where he references a movie that came out after 1985. I miss reading Sports Illustrated cover to cover and then reaching the back page and reading Reilly when Reilly knew how to write (not like what he does now, which is eerily similar to the type of thing I am writing right now).
I miss Zinedine Zidane. Yeah, for someone who could probably live the rest of their life without soccer in it, he's one of the most amazing sports spectacles that I have ever seen. I miss the ease and grace that he played with (not the grace that he headbutted people with). I miss seeing him dominate teams without scoring, without seemingly moving. He used to control the game like an conductor controlling a world-class orchestra. His impact on the game of soccer will never be forgotten, but so many people want to. Maybe it was his headbutt. Maybe it was his having a weird name. Maybe it was just that people don't like the French, but Zidane is always underrated in the game. People seem to love Messi, feel he's the greatest player since Maradona, say he can turn water into wine, and heal the lepers in Argentina. He's not even better than Zizou. Watching Zidane in the 2006 World Cup made me truly love soccer, and I miss getting that opportunity. Thank God for Youtube.
I miss watching my blood pressure increase and my heart rate rise as the Devils play deep into May and June. The Devils haven't been past the first round since 2007, and haven't been passed the second since their last cup in 2003. Still, I can remember those tense nights watching the Devils play the Senators in the 2003 Eastern Conference Finals. I remember watching Marty Brodeur make save after save after save and keep my team in it. At that time, none of my teams had won anything meaningful in three years, and I had just seen the Raiders get hammered in Super Bowl XXXVII. I needed a sports lift, and the Devils provided me that. Playoff Hockey is the greatest in sports, and it hasn't been the same in years. I miss holding it in for 20 minutes since there aren't any commercial breaks in overtime.
But most of all, I miss not caring about baseball when October rolls around. A close baseball game is just like overtime in a playoff hockey game, with the added element of a tense 30 seconds between each pitch, and a chilly October outdoor night. I still remember sitting in my basement, watching the Astros in the 2004 and 2005 NLCS, play tight game after tight game against the Cardinals. I remember the elation of the beginning of the top of the 9th of Game 5 of the 2005 NLCS, one out away from the World Series. I remember the devastation when Albert Pujols hit as beautiful a home run as ever hit to take it all away from me. And then I remember Roy Oswalt coming in as the saviour in Game 6. I haven't really felt that passion, that desire, that connection with baseball since, and I miss it more than anything in my sports life.
I used to love baseball, and in a way I still do, but I miss it filling the sports void that the summer posed. I used to have a routine as a kid in the summer. Play all day, do some work when necessary, and catch baseball tonight at 10. ESPN has killed baseball tonight, but so has the failure of the Astros. Baseball Tonight was a staple. Now, it is just a reminder of a love lost in time. The Astros are gone to me, just like Devin Hester's exhilarating ability, or the Patriots resourcefulness, or Tiger or Federer's individual brilliance. However, Roy Oswalt, the one sportsman who influenced my life probably more than any other, is back rising like that Phoenix from the ashes of burnt baseball memories. The 2010 MLB Playoffs are a kind of rebirth for me, a time where I can appreciate the brilliance of that simple game, the time where I can learn to be sick to my stomach in agony at every pitch, every tremor, every trembling nose hair of the pitcher shown in the close-up. I can rock back and forth along with the cold fans in Citizens Bank Park. I can watch Baseball Tonight again. I can remember what that was like as a 13 and 14 year old to have my days capped off with October baseball. I've missed it so much, and thanks to Roy, it is back again.
