The 2000 World Series triggers all sorts of memories for New York baseball fans.
For Mets fans, it was a teasing taste of meaningful October baseball, a taste unfamiliar to those who cheer for the orange and blue. Though the Mets have had opportunities, the Amazins have been unable to make a return visit to the Fall Classic since losing to their inner-city rivals.
For Yankee fans, the Subway Series is the pinnacle and, though unbeknownst at the time, culmination of the Yankee Dynasty. Since then, success—and by "success," I mean the Yankee definition of World Series championship or naught—has been absent from the Bronx.
For me, one memory of the 2000 World Series stands out—well, two, if you count the Roger Clemens-Mike Piazza fiasco. On Oct. 22, I had friends over to watch Game Two as part of some makeshift birthday party, i.e. an easy way to make a few extra bucks.
Sure, the Clemens-Piazza bat incident provided some laughs, but for me, the night reached its apex when I opened a birthday present from my parents.
That night, I got my first ever authentic jersey: A Boston Red Sox grey road uniform with “Garciaparra 5” stitched into the fabric. The jersey became one half of the only four outfits I wore over the next three years: Garciaparra jersey with black jeans, Garciaparra jersey with blue jeans, Garciaparra jersey with denim shorts, and Garciaparra jersey with khaki shorts.
So, as my Yankee fan friends celebrated their team’s third consecutive World Series, I was celebrating the addition of a Nomar Garciaparra jersey to my wardrobe, while my team was not playing October baseball. The irony is certainly not lost on me.
Garciaparra’s time spent with Boston was a juxtaposition of hope and disappointment, much like every Red Sox’ superstar before him.
Garciaparra burst upon the scene in 1997 as a breath of fresh air to an otherwise stagnant franchise. He was the once-in-a-lifetime homegrown potential superstar, the type that Red Sox fans had grown used to watching play elsewhere. His subsequent decline from baseball’s elite makes it easy to forget just how good he was during his prime.
Garciaparra transcended the sport and became an iconic, yet mythical figure in New England culture. He could do no wrong. He was a sure first-ballot Hall of Famer. He was the Red Sox’ answer to Derek Jeter. He was the best right-handed hitter since Joe DiMaggio. He was Ted Williams or Carl Yazstremski to this generation’s Red Sox fans. He was the only player who could make a run at batting .400. He was the best shortstop in baseball for a four-year period (1997-2000), his first four seasons in the league. He was “Nomahhh”.
But in reality what he was too much, too soon.
For a fan base that seemed to grow exponentially desperate for a World Series by the second, an unwarranted burden was placed on No. 5’s shoulders. Eventually, the daily pressure to win a World Series and end “The Curse” became overwhelming for the laid back Californian.
For Mets fans, it was a teasing taste of meaningful October baseball, a taste unfamiliar to those who cheer for the orange and blue. Though the Mets have had opportunities, the Amazins have been unable to make a return visit to the Fall Classic since losing to their inner-city rivals.
For Yankee fans, the Subway Series is the pinnacle and, though unbeknownst at the time, culmination of the Yankee Dynasty. Since then, success—and by "success," I mean the Yankee definition of World Series championship or naught—has been absent from the Bronx.
For me, one memory of the 2000 World Series stands out—well, two, if you count the Roger Clemens-Mike Piazza fiasco. On Oct. 22, I had friends over to watch Game Two as part of some makeshift birthday party, i.e. an easy way to make a few extra bucks.
Sure, the Clemens-Piazza bat incident provided some laughs, but for me, the night reached its apex when I opened a birthday present from my parents.
That night, I got my first ever authentic jersey: A Boston Red Sox grey road uniform with “Garciaparra 5” stitched into the fabric. The jersey became one half of the only four outfits I wore over the next three years: Garciaparra jersey with black jeans, Garciaparra jersey with blue jeans, Garciaparra jersey with denim shorts, and Garciaparra jersey with khaki shorts.
So, as my Yankee fan friends celebrated their team’s third consecutive World Series, I was celebrating the addition of a Nomar Garciaparra jersey to my wardrobe, while my team was not playing October baseball. The irony is certainly not lost on me.
Garciaparra’s time spent with Boston was a juxtaposition of hope and disappointment, much like every Red Sox’ superstar before him.
Garciaparra burst upon the scene in 1997 as a breath of fresh air to an otherwise stagnant franchise. He was the once-in-a-lifetime homegrown potential superstar, the type that Red Sox fans had grown used to watching play elsewhere. His subsequent decline from baseball’s elite makes it easy to forget just how good he was during his prime.
Garciaparra transcended the sport and became an iconic, yet mythical figure in New England culture. He could do no wrong. He was a sure first-ballot Hall of Famer. He was the Red Sox’ answer to Derek Jeter. He was the best right-handed hitter since Joe DiMaggio. He was Ted Williams or Carl Yazstremski to this generation’s Red Sox fans. He was the only player who could make a run at batting .400. He was the best shortstop in baseball for a four-year period (1997-2000), his first four seasons in the league. He was “Nomahhh”.
But in reality what he was too much, too soon.
For a fan base that seemed to grow exponentially desperate for a World Series by the second, an unwarranted burden was placed on No. 5’s shoulders. Eventually, the daily pressure to win a World Series and end “The Curse” became overwhelming for the laid back Californian.
At the 2004 trade deadline, after months of feuding with management and the media, a bitter Garciaparra was traded to the Chicago Cubs. The Red Sox went on to win the World Series. Most people believe that the Red Sox would have never won the World Series had Theo Epstein not dealt Garciaparra.
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