Just today, the Boston Red Sox—ever eager to package and re-sell the team’s history to its fans—announced a campaign that would celebrate “moments” from the 100-plus years of the franchise. All the big ones are there—Carlton Fisk’s game-winning home run in Game 6 of the 1975 World Series, Dave Roberts’ steal in Game 4 of the 2004 American League Championship Series, and even Dave Henderson’s game-winning home run against the Angels in Game 6 of the 1986 ALCS. Fans have 10 moments to pick from and the winner will be turned into a commercial to air on Red Sox Nation Day on June 16.
The idea itself is intriguing and captivating. I like the idea of honoring those moments that really captured the zeitgeist of the franchise—Fisk’s home run, more than anything else I can think of, encapsulates in all of his frantic jumping and arm waving to keep his home-run ball fair what it means to be a Red Sox fan. Hope springs eternal.
It wouldn’t surprise me to see other franchises jump on board with this promotion, if they haven’t already. The Yankees, for one, seem like a good choice, given that they have somewhere between six and 6,000 defining moments to choose from. Knowing Yankees fans, the winning moment will somehow involve Paul O’Neill or Scott Brosius. Even the Mets could get in on the fun, though the corollary of “everything the Mets touch turns to shit” would probably complicate matters.
Everyone loves this concept—the moment to define all moments. It’s all we hear about during the NCAA Tournament, what with “One Shining Moment” soundtracking each and every one of our upset bids coming up short and costing us money. Individual sports like golf and tennis are composed of nothing but those moments, when the ordinary man accomplishes something that we’ll never forget. The history of sports is built on those moments. Without them, we’d have nothing to capture our minds and hearts.
The history of Columbia sports is also built on moments, although Columbia’s “moments” are usually prefaced with “infamous” when the topic arises. Not that we have little to be proud of here at Columbia, but ... well, we have little to be proud of. My best sports memory here is of an event I’ve referenced probably close to a hundred times in my columns—Columbia taking down Penn and Princeton my freshman year. And really, that’s just about all I have. Sure, there were a handful of come-from-behind wins that I saw in Levien that qualify, but most of what I’ve seen at this school ranks somewhere between “failure” and “abject mediocrity.”
Think I’m too critical? In four years as an undergraduate here, I’ve seen a grand total of four Ivy wins out of a possible 28 from football. For every last-minute win or stunning upset that men’s basketball has claimed, there have been at least as many unbelievably frustrating defeats. Yes, there are a handful of programs here that perform at a consistently high level. But for every fencing victory at a national championship, we get a women’s lacrosse team that just barely won a conference game for the first time in four years. For every men’s tennis Ivy title, we get a winless men’s soccer season. For every Columbia athlete who excels, we have coaches and programs who fall flat on their ass time and time again.
What moments stand out to me? I remember Brown’s Nick Hartigan literally dragging Columbia defenders as he ran for over 200 yards and helped the Bears win an Ivy title in football while Columbia finished the year winless in league play. I remember Bill Purdy pitching a no-hitter over seven innings and eventually finishing with 11 innings and still losing to Princeton. I remember John Baumann giving everything he had on the basketball court and still not being able to beat Cornell or Penn. And I remember all the post-game interviews with dejected coaches and players who had to try to explain for the millionth time to a reporter with a tape recorder what went wrong out there today.
But that’s every franchise and every school. Every team has had its share of heartache and heartbreak. As a Red Sox fan, I know all too well how it goes. No matter how many World Series titles this team wins while I’m alive, I’ll always remember how they broke my heart in Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS. For every Pedro Martinez there was a Steve Ontiveros or Pat Rapp or Kent Mercker or some other retread picked off of the scrap heap and put in uniform. For every David Ortiz home run, there was a Jose Offerman post-1999 at-bat. And on and on and on.
But at the end of the day, the winning moments are the ones that stick with you. That’s why those 10 Red Sox moments, more than any blunder or failure, define the franchise. And that’s why, no matter how many times a Columbia team has fallen apart late or choked in the clutch or never been in it the first place, the one thing that will always stick with me is the happiness present on every player’s and coach’s face after the Lions upset Penn and Princeton my freshman year. Hope springs eternal, even in Morningside Heights.
Jonathan Tayler is a Columbia College senior majoring in history.
sports@columbiaspectator.com