Cleveland Indians' prized foot soldiers in their usher uniforms outside of Progressive Field ready for battle. From Left to Right: Bill Voit, Peter Miksa, Lou Valazquez, Mike Routa, Rigoberto (``Rigo'') Reveron and Pablo Senquiz.
The sun will still come up tomorrow.
Those were the sage words Plain Dealer sports copy editor Rich Passan would tell newsroom staffers (when I worked there) after a crushing Cleveland loss; whether it was John Elway’s epic ``Drive’’ in the 1987 AFC Championship Game, ``The Fumble’’ the following year, again against Denver, Michael Jordan’s dramatic ``Shot’’ in Game 5 of the 1989 Eastern Conference First Round NBA playoffs against the Cleveland Cavaliers in the Coliseum at Richfield, or Jose Mesa’s infamous meltdown in Game 7 of the 1997 World Series between the Indians and Florida Marlins at Pro Player Stadium.
Passan was right. As I write this, the world didn’t end, the sun did indeed rise in the east.
Though, for some of us, this added little comfort after witnessing the Cleveland Indians fall one game short of capturing their first World Series title since 1948.
The star-crossed Chicago Cubs stormed back, down 3-1, to win their first World Series since 1908 on Cleveland soil.
For the last six seasons, I’ve been a stadium usher at Progressive Field for the Cleveland Indians. Rarely, have I missed a game. This year was no exception. I worked 89 games, including three Watch Parties during the World Series.
During the season, I got to know a great many talented and exemplary individuals.
In particular, my partners in crime: Annie Borovic, Rigoberto (``Rigo’’) Reveron, Mary Haney, Pat McEwen, JR Simons, and Lou Pinsker. Together, we were assigned to serve more or less as traffic cops in front of the newly renovated Home Plate Club at Progressive Field, where unless you were a season ticket holder with a wrist-band or had tickets in sections 152-155, you weren’t permitted to cross in order not to block the view of fans watching the game from the Home Plate Club.
It wasn’t always a day at the beach. We all had our fair share of F-Bombs planted in our ear, we’ve been pushed, shoved, and peppered with all kinds of creative epithets by irate fans that I’d rather not share.
What made the assignment worth the effort and verbal abuse was all the magnificent people I got to know during the year, especially the season ticket holders, namely, Mike and Paula, Virgil, Tina, Vicky, Charlie (and his wife), Jerry and Judy, Andy and Gigi, Ron, and a number of others. I also took great comfort knowing the Cleveland Police always had our backs, especially, officers Big Al, Rob, the battalion of undercover detectives, and retired Cleveland homicide detective, Buddy Kovacic.
Dedicated members of the Fan Services Department, especially Emily and Katie Lewis, always came to our rescue in a timely manner even though they were knee-deep with customer service issues.
In addition, I met and became fast friends with members of the Cleveland Indians family, especially Anna Callaway (wife of Indians pitching coach Mickey Callaway), Lindsay Murphy Guyer (wife of Tribe outfielder Brandon Guyer), her parents, and two babies that somehow Lindsay miraculously maneuvered around in a baby carriage that looked more like a mini-van. I got to know Monica Ceraolo, the better half of pitcher Mike Clevinger and their adorable baby Penelope; and also had wonderful conversations with Clevinger’s dad and brothers.
The entire Gimenez family are also favorites of mine, especially Kellie Gimenez (wife of catcher Chris Gimenez), along with his parents.
So, it’s really been an extended family atmosphere all season at the yard.
When the Indians went down in defeat in Game 7 early Thursday morning after a drama filled 10-inning game, it was a crushing blow from which I still haven’t recovered.
I went to bed feeling like a sharp dagger had been slashed through the center of my heart. It was a struggle even to get out of bed. The food didn’t taste the same later that morning.
I remember chatting with an elderly gentleman at a newsstand several years ago when I was living in Florida. He told me when the Dodgers left Brooklyn, he didn’t read a sports page for three years.
Now, I know what he felt like
I still haven’t read a game story from Game 7 yet. And I probably won’t read a sports page or flip on ESPN until at least Thanksgiving.
So, how do you mend a broken heart?
I didn’t have any answers.
Since I couldn’t get through to the 24-hour grief hotline and Dr. Phil wasn’t returning my phone calls, I turned to my email pals for some shrewd words of advice on how best to cope with an aching heart that split in two.
Amy Walter, American political analyst, and national editor of The Cook Political Report, who is busy reporting on the stormy presidential campaign in its final days, took time to tell me that the ``beauty and pain of baseball is always found in spring - another year equals another chance.''
Judy Woodruff, co-anchor of the PBS NewsHour said that she knows many other Cleveland fans who are feeling equally bereft. ``The only thing I know'' Woodruff said, ``that helps heal a broken heart is time. I've never seen anything else that matches it, and of course even time isn't a perfect healer.''
Despite the disappointment of dropping the Series, former Plain Dealer reporter and state editor Bob Daniels, offered a positive spin on the Indians 2016 campaign. ``No reasonable Indians fan could have asked for more'' Daniels mused. ``They battled back time and again, they gave 100 percent and remained focused throughout and came within a rain delay of being world champions. All of that in the face of injuries to key players and other obstacles along the way. The Tribe turned in one of the most remarkable and memorable seasons in the history of baseball and nearly took down the best team of the 2016 season. And Terry Francona distinguished himself as arguably the best manager in the game.''
Dan Coughlin, former sportswriter for The Plain Dealer (1964–1982), broadcaster and commentator for WJW-TV 8 in Cleveland (1983–2009), offered a more medicinal approach to my grief. He advised me not to watch ESPN, not to read the newspaper, and most importantly ``to drink like a sonuvabitch whenever you can.’’
Bob DiBiasio, Sr. Vice President of Public Affairs for the Cleveland Indians advised me to embrace the pain. ``It is supposed to sting,'' DiBiasio said. ``So allow that to happen. The sting will fade and we will begin to remember the amazing 7-month journey we just experienced – especially the last month. That’s why we love sports- and baseball in particular.''
Bob Ryan, retired columnist for the Boston Globe, knows a little about grief and one crushing disappointment after another, that is, before the Boston Red Sox's 86-year curse came to a screeching halt in 2004, when they swept the St Louis Cardinals in the World Series. Ryan’s advice? ``Who knows how to deal with this type of thing better than us? The answer is to remind yourself that someday it WILL happen. We went from Aaron Boone to down 3-0 the next year to sipping champagne 11 nights later.''
Thomas Boswell, columnist for the Washington Post, had some comforting words to share as well since Baltimore experienced similar frustration.
``I covered the Baltimore Orioles beat from 1976 through 1984. They led the 1979 World Series 3-to-1, just like the Indians and felt devastated when they lost Games Six and Seven at home (the last time this happened) to the Pittsburgh Pirates.'' ``But they were a young team with top starting pitching and good leaders'', Boswell recalled, `` like the Tribe.'' ``In 1982, they were eliminated on the last day of the regular season by the Milwaukee Brewers who went to the Series. The O’s crowd gave them a 15-minute standing ovation and wouldn’t stop until they came back out on the field, some of them half-dressed. Still the best thing I’ve ever seen at a ballpark. But in 1983 they finally won it all. The world doesn’t always let you get the prize, but it can never take away the pride. ''
Finally, Mark Leibovich, Chief National Correspondent for the New York Times Magazine, based in Washington, DC, suggests Game 7 wasn't the end, but could very well be just the beginning of a storied franchise. ``If it's any consolation,’’ Leibovich observed, ``the Indians played a great post-season and look like they'll be good for a while.'' ``Nearly every sports fan in the country would trade their teams wholesale for the Indians and Cavs right now (the Browns, well, that would be pushing it). But I know a defeat like this is gut-wrenching.''
Curtis Danburg, the Indians senior director of communications, told me to be excited for 2017...``we have a bright future.''
And Danburg is right, of course.
Just today, for example, the Indians announced they have exercised the 2019 and 2020 club options on Indians manager Terry Francona. The Tribe additionally exercised the 2017 club option on Indians designated hitter/first baseman Carlos Santana, who is coming off his best Major League season, hitting .259 (151-582) with 89 runs, 31 doubles, three triples, 34 home runs and 87 RBI over 158 games.
So, hopefully, over time, the deep pain I feel will fade into the thin night air, but the memories of this spectacular season will remain, including the friends I made, while counting the days until Opening Day (April 11, home opener), when the grass will, no doubt, be a little greener, the skies a little bluer, and the beer just a little colder.
-Bill Lucey
November 4, 2016
Excellent column Bill! I really enjoyed working with you (but not your position!). My solution to ease the pain: read or watch stories on baseball. Netflix has "Fastball" and "Knuckleball". I'm reading "Crazy 08" on the 1908 baseball season (last time the Cubs won). And of course there is always the excellent series by Ken Burns on baseball. The Tribe will have almost the entire team back next year and I am looking forward to that!
Posted by: Gary Payne | 11/05/2016 at 11:40 AM