Don't Wake Me

There is a Seals & Crofts song called "We May Never Pass This Way Again". One line says that, "Dreams, so they say, are for the fools and they let 'em drift away."

Count me among those who say that this dream was not for fools. The only fools here are those who said the Texas Rangers would fall on their faces again. That the All-Star break would end their run. Or they would wilt in the August heat. Or most of all, those arrogant Yankee fans, whose team had no answer for the Rangers, and who could do nothing but sit there and spew out the tired old "We have 27" line. That's why this dream is especially satisfying. This ball club, the one people said were no different than any other incarnation, sent a team with a $210 million payroll home, wondering what the hell happened.

Right now, the Rangers have more fans, both locally and nationally, than they've ever had. And with a World Series win, that number will go up substantially. I usually don't like bandwagoners, but in this case, I think it's ok to let it slide. There will be many in the DFW area watching this series who have never liked baseball. For them, it's about being part of the ride. So be it. I may not like it, but who am I to say they aren't allowed? I just hope those people don't attempt to act as though they've been here to entire time. Of course, most of those people will be watching in bars, where watching the game isn't nearly as important as cheering when everyone else does.

I think the younger generation is lost on this moment. Sure, it's fun for them. But they don't realize what this organization has been through. And truth be told, most don't care anyway. They are products of technology. The "instant gratification generation". Baseball has no place on their calender. They are paying attention now because it's the thing to do. If you asked them who Jorge Cantu is, you'd get a blank stare. Try and explain why a pitcher walks the opposing team's best hitter, with runners at second and third with two outs, and they'll cock their head, like that little RCA dog.

No, this one is for those of us who have been there. This one is for those who've suffered. Those who remember Ted Williams saying he hated DFW, before he walked out. Or David Clyde. Or Jose Canseco pitching. We've lived through the embarrassments along with the franchise. We know heartbreak. And this is our moment. Don't let anyone take that from you. If some Yankee fan wags his finger at you, just laugh at him him. And remind him that while his team might have 27 rings, there were plenty of times they weren't very good. You've earned the right to do that.

I've mentioned my father, on numerous occasions, when I talk Rangers baseball. And yes, it's probably getting old. But to me, it's not. I still regret that he was not standing beside me at Rangers Ballpark last Friday. I still hate it that I won't be in Rangers Ballpark with him on Saturday. But this is the hand he and I were dealt. So instead of worrying about it, I just walk outside at night after a game and find the star I call his. And that's my moment. That's when I get that connection with him.

When you dream, you have no idea how it's going to go. When that monkey shows up, riding a tricycle and carrying a snow cone, you have no idea why. He's just there. And this dream is no different for me. When I pictured what it would be like if the Rangers made the World Series, I had visions of sitting on the first base side, my Dad next to me, with hot dogs and nachos. That when that final out happened, we'd just drink in the moment. Then on the way home, we'd listen to Eric Nadel walk us through the post-game show on the radio. But that won't happen. Instead, for some of the games, I'll be able to watch it with other people I care about, albeit on TV. For some, I'll be stuck behind a bar, serving drinks to people who wouldn't know what a tip was, even if you held a dictionary in front of their face and showed them the definition. This is the hand I've been dealt. And although it's not how I pictured it, I can take comfort in knowing that whether or not the dream goes the way I want it to, I'm still in that dream. And that's fine with me.

So bring on the monkey riding the tricycle. I'm pretty sure that snow cone will taste just fine.