The smell of alcohol was potent on the seventh floor of Thurston on October 21, 2004. The Boston Red Sox had just overcome a three-game hole to beat the New York Yankees to advance to, and eventually win, their first World Series in 86 years. With the hope of seeing something extraordinary, I went out to H Street to join the celebration.
A strange feeling churned in my stomach. I didn’t quite belong.
I live in a state that is part of New England but in an area inundated with Yankee and Mets fans. I am neither one of those. No, please don’t worry. I am definitely not from Boston and I sure am not going to talk about my undying love for Fenway Park, Schilling’s blood-stained sock, or the Charles River’s “dirty water.”
To be honest, my geographic location is somewhat ambiguous. New Englanders claim the southwest region of Connecticut is part of the tri-state region – alongside New York and New Jersey – and New Yorkers refer to us as New England snobs. Well, I am not a member of Red Sox nation, cider is not my favorite, but I also think that Yankees are the devil. So who am I?
Well maybe a Mets fan? After the 1986 World Series there are pictures of my family members celebrating the victory. So as a bred Met fan, I am frustrated. Yeah, we had that fateful subway series in 2000 but then we were done. All that has come out of Flushing, Queens, in recent years is a management with a distorted vision for success and a team that has consistently underperformed.
Before departing for Foggy Bottom last August, I retired my royal blue Mets hat. I sat down and told the interlocking script “NY” that the long distance relationship couldn’t last. We just never really got along anymore and it was time for me to move on.
On April 19, after the buzz quieted a bit, I jumped on the Metro to greet my new potential obsession. Like a plethora GW students, I had the hat and knew the basics. Brad Wilkerson hit for the cycle in the second game and Livan Hernandez is the team’s ace.
Robert F. Kennedy Memorial Stadium is also nothing like Fenway, Shea, or the house that Ruth built. Before this season, the last game played was a 9-0 Yankee win during which the Senators were forced to forfeit due to fan riots.
The Nats’ makeshift home until 2008 is still a bit unfamiliar to the team. During batting practice, players were still contemplating introduction songs for at-bats and security guards still seemed lost in the labyrinth of tunnels that make up RFK. The press box has no televisions and members of the media are left to fend for themselves for the score, inning, and player information because they can’t see the scoreboards.
As many District residents attempt to adopt the Nationals as their home team, many of the players are trying to do the same. Carlos Baerga, a Nationals infielder, knows what it feels like to play on a big stage. The 36-year-old spent seven years in Cleveland followed by two and a half with the Mets, and a brief stint with the Red Sox in 2002.
“You know New York,” the Puerto Rican native said. “To play there you have to be a very tough guy and watch what you say because they are always going to come at you with some (insert playfully stated expletive here).”
Baerga is excited for the opportunity to play in a city that has waited for so long for a team.
“I like it. I like it a lot,” Baerga said emphatically before a game against the Marlins Tuesday night. “The fans are great. They come out to all the games and show pride. They don’t leave the ballpark until the end. They’ve been waiting for this for a long time and I’m glad Little-known utility catcher Gary Bennett has played in the big leagues on and off since 1990. He has bounced around the country since 2001 after playing four years in the Phillies organization. During down time before the game, he signed autographs and mingled with the employees at RFK, gladly signing balls, bats, hats, and other paraphernalia that has flooded Washington.
“So far, it’s been great,” said the grinning catcher during batting practice Tuesday. “We are putting a lot of fans in seats and they are having a good time.”
“Our job and our responsibility is to make baseball big down here and make it home,” Bennett said. “Everyday, we want to come down here and win. No guarantee but come October, hopefully we’ll still be doing that.”
But on Tuesday night, the team swallowed a bitter reality pill. The glory ride that started the season took a slight detour after the Florida Marlins swept the team at home. Hey, even the devil (Yankees), with a $208 million payroll, loses on occasion. But now the boys from the capital city, with a payroll of $48.5 million, have a better record than the Yankees, Mets and are tied with the Sox.
It is too early to tell, but the Nationals seem genuinely happy to be playing in the District. No more traveling to Puerto Rico for 41 games and, the team hopes, no more injuries. The team has finally found a home.
For Washington, the real test will be in July and August. If the Nationals are to succeed, the fan base will have brave the 90-degree afternoon games, five-game losing streaks and the sub-par management that comes along with being owned by the MLB.
At the Stadium-Armory Metro stop, a sign hangs inconspicuously in the corner that epitomizes the current mentality of the Washington sports community. “Pledge your allegiance,” the sign reads.
Well, I think that royal blue hat is going into retirement for good. Who needs all that geographic confusion, “dirty water” and goofy pinstripes when success is only a few Metro stops away?
