It's been 10 years since the day of September 11th changed the lives of anyone old enough to remember the haunting newscasts that spoke of hijacked planes, explosions, and so many innocent lives lost. Many young carefree American citizens who up to that point felt no need to care about matters as stuffy and formal as politics and world events suddenly had passionate political arguments and couldn't stop watching 24-hour news channels. After all, we had gone from a nation with an outlook about as sunny as San Diego to one that suddenly had very good reason to fear. This was the day that so many things changed, including our sports landscape. And yet still, some things never change.
While the NBA and NHL were in their offseasons, it was baseball and football that were affected most, and while the NFL had just started its season, baseball was in the late stages of the pennant race as it always is in September. The sport of baseball was affected to the greatest degree by this disaster. For six days, the everyday business of baseball was stopped cold, with no games played around the nation. The men in the baseball uniforms we are so passionate about began contemplating the meaning of what they do for a living. We as fans did, as well.
Baseball did its part to honor the victims of the attacks by sewing American flags on jerseys and creating a new tradition by substituting "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" during the seventh inning stretch with formal renditions of "God Bless America" and overall increasing the level of ballpark security and appropriate patriotic pageantry for each game. Speeches in ballparks were made, poems were read. The Mets and Yankees suddenly seemed to have nationwide support, as they now stood for a fallen city. Had the Washington Nationals existed at that time, they too would have surely received similar attention.
For many of us passionate, diehard sports fans, the message learned was not to lose sight of the fact that when our teams fall short or an umpire blows a call, it does not have the magnitude of the loss of life that September 11th did, and that we need to put this into perspective. Sporting events mean little to nothing by comparison. And yet all of this ultimately had the opposite effect.
Ten days after the attacks, the Mets returned to Queens to play the Braves with their faint hopes of winning the NL East hanging in the balance, yet for that one day, it was the least of fans concerns. With all the ceremonies leading up to it, the game had an odd, unique feel. Mike Piazza famously won that game with an eighth inning home run, something he had done frequently for the Mets in his career. Yet this time it meant something different to the people. That home run became a symbol of the concept that we — the Mets, New York City, the country — are going to recover and be okay again, perhaps even stronger than ever. And the fans realized it was ok to cheer for a baseball game again.
In the coming days, the rug would be pulled from under the Mets season in agonizing, bitter fashion thanks to Atlanta's Brian Jordan. The two-sport star hit a 3-run homer to tie the Mets with 2 outs in the ninth on 9/23/01 (just two days after the Piazza HR game) and a solo HR in the 11th to win it. Then, on 9/29/01, with the Mets still clinging to playoff hopes in Atlanta, the Braves rallied from a 5-1 deficit in the ninth. After scoring 3 times, Jordan faced John Franco with the bases loaded and hit a walk off grand slam to officially crush the Mets' playoff hopes. What had started as a symbol of hope gave way to a defeat as agonizing for the team as any before or since. Fans were not taking this any easier.
Meanwhile, the Yankees were becoming a symbol of recovery and escape from the attacks, as well, yet they waited until their obligatory postseason run. The three-time defending world champions managed to survive the early rounds with spectacular flourishes and often by the very skin of their teeth as they captured the imagination. The Derek Jeter "flip" play was born, as well as his first trip diving into the Yankee Stadium stands to catch a ball. A rookie named Alfonso Soriano hit a walk-off home run and the Yankees ousted a 116-win team to get back to a World Series that was loaded with 9/11 sentiments and newfound fears of terrorist targeting.
Each one of these seven games had truly moving pre-game segments or ceremonies meant to honor the tragedies outside of baseball. The highlight of which was President George W. Bush himself throwing a strike to home plate for the ceremonial first pitch. He did this from the actual pitcher's mound, mind you, right after giving a thumbs up to the nation, and daring anyone to attack him at such a visible moment. Say what you will about George W's presidency. For that moment, all Americans could proudly say, "that's our leader."
Before the fourth game, a previously obscure country singer named Lee Greenwood was brought out to sing "God Bless the USA," a patriotic country anthem that had been released in the 1980s. While the song had been largely overlooked in its time, America was now dusting it off and applying a new meaning to it. Lee took the opportunity and belted the hell out of it without lip synching, hitting high notes he never did in the recorded version as if himself inspired and lifted to new heights.
In addition, Game 1 saw a human recreation of the iconic Iwo Jima war photo on the field while Jewel sang the National Anthem. The legend Ray Charles had sung his signature "America the Beautiful" before Game 2 and Ronan Tynen, the Irish Tenor, made his first appearance in Yankee Stadium singing "God Bless America" during Game 4 of this series, as well. This series was also the first to feature the now commonplace military jet flyover during the U.S. national anthem.
Amazingly the intensity and drama of the games themselves managed to match the deep, moving nature of the ceremonies, as the seemingly overmatched Yankees overcame ninth inning deficits in Games 4 and 5 with stunning last-ditch home runs en route to dramatic victories to take the series back to Arizona, and to November, then for the first time ever. The stage of the World Series actually felt grander than it does most other years as it morphed into a masterpiece theater of sports. Heartbroken New Yorkers were rallying around this and rediscovering their rabid, passionate side again. Instead of the games themselves mattering less, they mattered more.
And yet as with the Mets, the Yankees' apparent good fortune had a horrific twist ending in store for them. Despite their 3-2 series lead, they were decimated in Arizona in Game 6 and their 2-1 lead in Game 7 was overcome by RBI hits by Tony Womack and Luis Gonzalez in the ninth inning in spite of a healthy Mariano Rivera being on the mound. It was perhaps the most shocking 2-run rally of all-time that ended the 2001 baseball season. The Diamondbacks had won the Series to end all World Series.
You would think in light of all the other destruction New York had endured, that the end of its baseball season would be taken in stride. It was not. For fans of the Mets and the Yankees, these horrific eliminations hurt worse than they would have in other years as we became more emotionally dependent on our teams in times of great despair. Yet the unforgettable victories on the path to those ultimate defeats left their fans with a sense of bittersweet pride in their teams efforts mixed in with the agony.
While the Mets' September defeats have been largely forgotten by baseball history over the past 10 years, the 2001 World Series is still considered a landmark for so many reasons, some of which explained above. In the decade of World Series that followed, only 2002's between Anaheim and San Fran came close to matching the drama and intensity of the post-9/11 World Series. And even that year's could not match the 2001 series for significance and intrinsic meaning.
In fact, I would go so far as to say the only baseball games that carried comparable meaning and emotional significance to this event on so grand a stage were the LCS in 2003 and 2004. I am talking about the Steve Bartman series, the Aaron Boone series, and the 3-0 comeback by the Red Sox in 2004 over the hated Yankees, culminating with the end of the Bambino's Curse. With apologies to a couple of great Cardinals/Astros LCS, and the White Sox ending their 88-year title drought, everything else in the decade that followed seems like small potatoes by comparison.
Three months later, a Super Bowl played out under similar circumstances, with the respects paid towards America and the 9/11 victims culminating with a moving halftime show from U2 in which Bono revealed on stage that the inner lining of his jacket had the American flag sown in, all while singing a poignantly uplifting rendition of "Where the Streets Have No Name." Fans wondered how could it be this perfect that an underdog team named the Patriots could defeat the mighty Rams on a field goal with no time left to win such an event, thus making it one of the greatest Super Bowls ever played. Not to mention, the Tom Brady as we now know him was created.
Those events — the Piazza home run, the 2001 World Series, and Super Bowl XXXVI — were moments that almost seemed cosmically created to at least comfort or treat the void left from that horrible Tuesday with the burning buildings in the New York skyline. Even the greatest of tragedies could not cure us sports fans from our insanity condition. The fact that this story mentions only the very broadest sporting details of the games being discussed is testament to the fact that you, the reader, most likely remember so many of these games with such vivid detail already. Because they affected you that much. For these games 10 years ago that were supposed to mean nothing to us, meant everything.
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