The 2004 Red Sox and the Yankees: Father and Son

Paul Semendinger and Paul Semendinger, 2023. (Photo by Janet Semendinger)

 

There is the story that when the British surrendered to the colonial forces at Yorktown to end the Revolutionary War, that their band played a song titled “The World Turned Upside Down.”

As a Yankees fan, I felt that a similar song should have been played when the Red Sox defeated the Yankees and then went on to win the 2004 World Series. What happened to the eternal Curse of the Bambino? There was a part of me that hoped the Yankees would never lose to the Red Sox …

I’ll never forget the feelings I had during those four games when the Red Sox came roaring back to defeat the Yankees after going down 3-0 in the American League Championship Series. The Yankees had dominated the Red Sox in Game Three, 19-8.  It was all but certain, to me, and most Yankees fans, that another World Series for our team was on the horizon. 

That was the way it was supposed to be. That was the natural order. The Yankees should win.  The Red Sox need to lose. It was a formula that worked well. 

And then it all fell apart – suddenly and completely.

All these years later, I don’t remember any specific games, just moments from the games, moments when the impossible happened time and time and time again. 

The mighty Yankees fell. It didn’t seem logical. It didn’t seem real. But it was. 

The memories I have of those games, the moments when everything changed, are scattered. I don’t recall when these events happened, and I’ll never go back and watch those contests again.  I simply remember being in total shock game-after-game as these things took place:

Dave Roberts stealing second base.

Mariano Rivera blowing a save.  And then blowing another game.

David Ortiz hitting a walk-off homer.

Johnny Damon circling the bases.

Flash Gordon giving up run after run after run. 

Derek Jeter going 1-for-7 in an extra-inning game.

The bloody sock.

Kevin Brown failing to get through the second inning in the decisive Game Seven.

The looks of confusion on Joe Torre’s face.

What was happening?

Some of it, most of it, still doesn’t seem real.

Did the Red Sox really clinch their victory on the field at Yankee Stadium? It can’t be!

I was in complete disbelief as this all played out. 

In the end, I turned off the television and sat in silence. 

The Red Sox were the champions?

*****

Most might think that I was angry when the Yankees lost, or, said differently, when the Red Sox won. But, although I was stupefied, I wasn’t upset. In fact, part of – a small part at first – but part of me found some solace and even a degree of happiness because I knew that Red Sox victory brought with it an unbelievable amount of joy to a very Red Sox fan.

Once, a long time ago, in 1946, in the town of Norwood, New Jersey, a little boy named Paul fell in love with the game of baseball. He loved the sport and the players. In his youthful exuberance, he gravitated toward a team far from home and to a player who he felt was the greatest ever. As an 8-year-old kid, my father Paul connected with Ted Williams and the Red Sox and he has loved that player and that team with all his heart, ever since. 

I don’t think there has ever been a bigger Red Sox fan than my dad. And, although I was permitted to choose my own team to root for, and I chose the Yankees, I was also brought up knowing that Teddy Ballgame, Yaz, and so many others were players to be respected and looked up to. 

In my home, alongside the names of Gehrig, Mantle, Jackson, and others, there was also an untold affinity for Bobby Doerr, Johnny Pesky, Vern Stevens, Rico Petrocelli and so many others. Yeah, the Yankees had the Great DiMaggio, but the DiMaggio on the Red Sox wasn’t so bad either. I knew early on that Babe Ruth had first been a Red Sox and a World Champion before he ever came to New York. 

As I look back, it must have been difficult for my father to see the Sox fail year after year and decade after decade – especially living in an area filled with Yankees fans and in a historical period dominated by the Yankees. The Impossible Dream of 1967 ended with a loss. Fisk’s homer in 1975 only led to eventual heartbreak. Bucky Dent’s homer in 1978, as my dad’s 10-year-old son leapt for joy, must have been a bitter pill to swallow. And 1986, with that groundball, it must have been the worst of all. I think that groundball was the bitterest pill to swallow. 

My dad never expected me to become a Red Sox fan. On some level, he may have even taken joy that his son got to enjoy seeing his team win so many championships…  Maybe? 

Still, my dad had to wonder what it was like to see one’s favorite team, the team he rooted for over a lifetime, win it all. I am sure my father wondered if the Red Sox would, or could, ever win a championship. 

And then, there they were … Millar and Mueller, Ortiz and Damon, Pedro, Lowe, and Schilling, Varitek. And the rest. They were the champions. The Red Sox had defeated the Yankees and were on their way to being baseball’s best team. 

The Red Sox as a franchise struggled for 86 long years, but for 58 of those years, my dad suffered along with them. It was a long and tiring road, one filled with heartbreak time and again, but then it was all over. A magical new story was written; a story that ended with baseball’s ultimate glory. A story that concluded with the Red Sox on the top of baseball.

The world had indeed turned upside down. 

I wasn’t happy that the Yankees lost. But the joy that my father felt, and still enjoys today, made it okay. 

I’m not happy that the Yankees lost. I didn’t enjoy any of it. But in a way, I am very glad the Red Sox won.

PAUL SEMENDINGER is the author of numerous books including The Least Among Them and From Compton to the Bronx. Paul also runs the Yankees website Start Spreading the News. A retired principal, Paul stays active running marathons and still playing baseball as a pitcher in a 35-year-old and older wood-bat baseball league.