Sometimes, you have nothing left to give.That's Michael Martinez at the plate with the World Series in the balance, Game 7 stretched into extra innings, Cubs up by one after tacking on two runs from spent reliever Bryan Shaw.
It tumbled to the last out so quickly. There was slight hope. Brandon Guyer, a bench guy, drew a walk. Rajai Davis single homed Guyer - you knew Davis, having a great game, wouldn't make the last out.
Indians fans are not a demanding bunch. Perhaps it stems from our historically low expectations. Two championships (1920 and 1948) and four World Series losses (1954, 1995, 1997, 2016). To anyone who says just getting there should be enough doesn't know the heartache from a lifetime of coming just shy of victory.
My family rooted for all three major Cleveland teams, but the Indians always came first. Baseball always came first, despite the Indians' typically terrible play. They last won the World Series in 1948, the year my parents were both born.
In my first 17 years, the Indians managed three 100-loss seasons and two winning records (1979 and 1986), never sniffing the playoffs. That was for other teams. Then came the golden years, the mid and late 1990s, when American League Central titles came with ease (six of seven from 1995 to 2001). Those teams are relegated to memory.
Whither Game 7 ... two losses to the Cubs in which the Indians looked sloppy and lost gouged away any optimism. Corey Kluber took to the mound, but I couldn't watch. I could not watch the bulk of the game. I sweat profusely, feel the pull of angina, suffer from adrenaline rushes ... I turn feral, unable to function. In 2007, I screamed myself hoarse.Having Nancy in the room for most of the games helped me stay composed, although frustration in Game 3 led me to spend a few innings watching It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.
After 8 innings, I tuned in. Remarkably, the Indians crept back into the game. Scrappy is an overused term for baseball terms that grind out runs, but what better way to qualify a team that scored two runs on a wild pitch? The ninth inning came and went, Francisco Lindor saving what looked like a sure RBI single with his magnificent glove. Then came the rain delay and the Cubs rally.
As Martinez's weak grounder was fielded and snapped into the Cubs first baseman's mitt for the third out, I turned off the television. There was no need to watch the celebration at Cleveland's Progressive Field. The Cubs earned their championship, no one gave anything to them. They field a dangerous team that the Indians maneuvering could only fend off for so long.
It always felt like Cleveland against the world. September threw out major setbacks for a title run. With our number 2 and number 3 starting pitchers (Danny Salazar and Carlos Carrasco) injured and our best player (Michael Brantley) lost for the season, advancing beyond the first round seemed insurmountable. Even the beat writer for the Plain Dealer wrote off the team in mid-September - he foresaw would win the division and a quick exit.
No one gave us a chance against the Boston Red Sox and their retiring star David Ortiz - we swept them. No one gave us a chance against the slugging Toronto Blue Jays - we beat them in five. No one gave us a chance against the Cubs - we took them to game 7. Francona used a lot of smoke and mirrors with his pitching staff, but in the last three games, whatever well of luck we plumbed seemed mostly dry.
It will still Cleveland against the world. Having seen my father's life fly by with unwatchable losing teams and close agonizing losses (we're now the only team to lose a twice in an extra-inning Game 7), I start to feel my own moving by without that elusive Indians title. Nineteen years passed since the last Indians World Series appearance, nine since the epic ALCS collapse to the Red Sox. The only previous playoff was a quick loss in the wild-card game in 2013. These chances don't come as often as we think.
People who say they'll get back soon enough don't know what they're talking about. You can only cross your fingers, hope you team comes back strong, contends again and never forget no one is guaranteed a championship.
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