Cleveland’s Hamiltonian Challenge

Like a certain Secretary of Treasury, the Cleveland Indians face a monumental challenge in their quest for postseason glory.

I imagine the World Series so much it feels more like a memory. Is this where it gets me, on my feet, all of Boston ahead of me?

If this is the end of me at least I have some friends with me, a drink in my hand and will of my men with me. There is stillness before the first pitch, a quiet before the storm. This is the eye of the hurricane; this is the only way we can cement our legacy.

The Cleveland Indians are a club we can rally around. This team is just like their city; they’re young, scrappy, and hungry. They are not throwing away their Shot. The division is nice, but they will never be Satisfied.

They don’t want to Wait For It anymore. The Tribe wants nothing more than to Stay Alive through November. To Blow Us All Away.

They have the stuff to make a difference. Eleven walk-off wins. Ninety four wins in the season. The boys are Non-Stop. Their reward is home field advantage, that critical venue where they are 53-28. I want to be in the Park Where it Happens, but I will watch from a continent away, Helpless.

The offense is there. Take Mike Napoli, the man is (soon to be) loaded. He struggled last year, and when his prayers to the baseball gods were met with indifference, he picked up a bat. He smote his own deliverance – 34 HR, 101 RBI. Jason Kipnis can give them a fight. Frankie Lindor is all-out all the time; he simply cannot Take a Break. There’s Trevor Bauer, unusual habits and all. Why do you throw like you’re running out of time? Corey Kluber has been in the Cy Young conversation all season long. Andrew Miller will no doubt get heavy innings. Beyond that we have the coaching.

How can we emerge victorious from the quagmire, leave the ball field lifting John Adams’ drum higher? Turns we out we have a secret weapon: Strikes and hits. And so the balance shifts. We rendezvous with Yanimal, incorporate his gifts. We can end this war in Boston, cut them off at sea. But for this to succeed there is someone else we need: Francona. No one has more resilience or matches his practical, tactical brilliance. You wanna fight for your title back? Francona’s got your back.

Look at where the Indians are. Look at where they started. The fact that their season is alive is a miracle. Just stay alive, that would be enough. And if this postseason can share a fraction of that pride, or a fragment of that joy, look out world that would be enough. I don’t pretend to know the challenges they’re facing. The scenarios they keep erasing and creating in their minds.

But I’m not afraid; I know who my team is. So long as they play hard to the end of the day, that would be enough. Baseball doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes and we keep playing anyway. We rise and we fall and we break and we make our mistakes. And if there’s a reason the Tribe seems to thrive when so many other teams don’t survive I’m willing to wait for it.

Maybe this isn’t the year for the Tribe. Maybe their injuries are too much to overcome and the pitching that remains is insufficient. I may not live to see our glory, but I will gladly join the fight. And when our children tell their story, they’ll tell the story of 2016. Raise a glass to Cleveland, something they can never take away. No matter what they tell you, never forget where you are from.

I always come back to that dream of a World Championship. Tens of thousands of people flood the streets. I hear choirs and church bells ringing. They shout and cheer and bring a wonderful noise. They all came to see the world turned upside down.

To the Indians directly I say this, “Cleveland faces an endless uphill climb. We have something to prove; we have nothing to lose. History has its eyes on you. Summon all the courage you require. You gave your all this season. Now we need to ask for a little more. One Last Time.”

Go Tribe.