Congratulating the Boston Red Sox on winning the 2004 World Series.

Mr. Speaker, reserving the right to object, and I will not object because this is a resolution congratulating the greatest team in the history of baseball, the Boston Red Sox, who after 86 years finally relieved all New Englanders, and all wonderful people in America, of the greatest burden in the history of sports, 86 years of drought. No more. No more. The Cubs come next.

Mr. Speaker, down three to nothing against one of the greatest teams in baseball, they staged the greatest comeback in the history of sports, sweeping four games in a row against a fantastic Yankees team and one of the

greatest rivalries in professional sports today, and then sweeping a four-game series against the Cardinals, another fantastic team, that many of us thought would win the World Series this year.

Not only did they do that, when they came home, we were fortunate enough a few years ago to have the Patriots win their championship in football. We had a million people in downtown Boston celebrating that. The Red Sox won, and we had well over 3 million people. That is half the population of the State of Massachusetts. We had people flying in from all over the country to witness a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

I heard that many people went to cemeteries and gave hats and gave baseball cards to their loved ones who were not here to see this. I heard that some people brought the ashes of their loved ones to the parade because there were those of us who just had no understanding of how to win with our beloved Red Sox.

Further reserving the right to object, Mr. Speaker, I yield to the gentleman from California.

Mr. Speaker, we will have to get a translator.

Mr. Speaker, this resolution congratulates the men of the Red Sox and the owners of the Red Sox for their dedication and their commitment to the sport and to their fans. They have opened up the park, I will translate that word, too, later on. They have opened up the park to the public. They have had the players out there talking to the people who come to the games. They have closed off a piece of public turf so we can expand the experience of Fenway.

For those fortunate enough to come to the convention this summer in Boston, I am hoping most Members got to go to Fenway Park, still the smallest ballpark in the major league, yet always sold out because the people of New England support their team.

Mr. Speaker, this resolution is a thank you to the best of our ability to thank the men of the Red Sox and the owners and to the entire Red Sox nation for 86 years of unflagging support and dedication to a team that has so often let us down but every year came back and gave us more to cheer for.

Further reserving the right to object, I yield to the gentleman from New Hampshire.

Further reserving the right to object, I yield to the gentleman from Massachusetts.

Mr. Speaker, further reserving the right to object, I yield to the gentleman from Tennessee (Mr. Duncan).

Mr. Speaker, further reserving the right to object, I am going to submit this for the Record but I would just like to read the first two paragraphs of an article that appeared in the Boston Herald:

``When Margaret `Peg' Coyne lost her desire to eat, when she could no longer rise from her parlor chair, walk to the kitchen and fix herself a cup of tea, there was still the Red Sox.

``When the grand nieces who kept a vigil by Aunt Peg's hospice bed were sure the pain, the morphine and the Ativan had eased her into a tranquil delirium, Johnny Damon would step into the batter's box and Peg's 93-year-old eyes suddenly opened.''

It is a longer article than that that I will submit for the Record. But I think those two paragraphs catch the tenor of how the Red Sox Nation feels. This is something we have waited for a long time and many people have come and gone. There have been fantastic players that have been with the team over the years that have given us joy. Johnny Pesky. The right field foul pole is named after Johnny Pesky because he gave us so many thrills while he was playing.

[From the Boston Herald, Nov. 1, 2004]

Angel in the Outfield Sends Heavenly Miracle From Above

(By Peter Gelzinis)

When Margaret ``Peg'' Coyne lost her desire to eat, when

she could no longer rise from her parlor chair, walk to the

kitchen and fix herself a coup of tea . . . there was still

the Red Sox.

When the grand nieces who kept a vigil by ``Aunt Peg's''

hospice bed were sure the pain, the morphine and the Ativan

had eased her into a tranquil delirium, Johnny Damon would

step into the batter's box and Peg's 93-year-old eyes

suddenly opened.

``Come on, Johnny! Come on, Johnny!'' she cried out at the

television screen, her voice frail but unbowed.

``We couldn't understand how she knew the inning, let alone

the batter,'' Jeannie Boutin recalled. ``When we asked her,

Peg just said, `Because I pay attention, what do you think,

Besides,' she'd say, `they run the numbers along the top of

the screen.' And, of course, she always wanted to see her

Johnny.''

``Oooh, my sister loved Johnny Damon all right,'' Nora

Coyne said. ``She loved how he managed to get on base. Peg

loved Johnny's heart. But then, of course, she was always

saying, `I wish Johnny would cut his hair and shave that

beard.' ''

Nora betrayed the kind of self-conscious blush one might

expect from a fan of, say, 19 . . . or maybe 29. She happens

to be 89.

Ah, but when you venture this deep into the heart of Red

Sox Nation--to the cozy sanctuary of a South Boston parlor

where two easy chairs sit side-by-side--age is little more

than a state of mind. And baseball is what keeps you forever

young.

The Coyne sisters didn't particularly care for Babe Ruth.

Why?

``Because Peg and I were there at Braves Field, when the

Babe came to play for the Braves at the end of his career,''

Nora explains. ``We used to sit in this box right there

beside the Braves' dugout. We knew all the Braves. Really,

they were our favorites for a long time. We always like the

National League guys, because they were a lot more friendly.

``Oh . . . I'm sorry, back to Babe. Well, you see, all

these little kids came down from the grandstands to get his

autograph, and the Babe . . . well, he just ignored all the

little kids. My sister and I thought that was really awful.

We never forgot it. And, of course, don't get me started on

the Southie girl Babe married. Her name was Nora, too. She

lived on Fourth Street, just above F (Street), I think. And

what did the Babe do but leave her for a New York showgirl.''

In between caring for several generations of family--my

wife and our son among them--and stitching curtains in

factories throughout Southie, Roxbury and Dorchester, Peg and

Nora didn't just watch baseball . . . they lived it.

There are tales of how the ancient Sox pitcher Boo Ferris

charmed Peg and Nora with a ``Hello Girls,'' on his way into

the Harvard Club, or how Ted Williams fired off a string of

``bad words'' when the sisters stepped in front of his

Caddie.

``Dizzy Trout, the Detroit pitcher, was sitting next to him

in the front seat,'' Nora remembered, ``and he just

laughed.''

On the final day of this past August, during a Red Sox

winning streak, Peg Coyne's vantage point on this season

shifted from a blue parlor to a celestial box seat. My son's

theory was that in return for letting go and coming to

heaven, God had surely promised Peg that the Sox would catch

the Yankees down the stretch.

When Johnny Damon finally emerged from his playoff slump in

truly miraculous fashion, Nora's phone rang off the hook.

``It's Peg,'' all the nieces screamed, ``Peg's there in the

outfield with him.''

``When Keith Foulke made the last out,'' Nora said, ``I

leaned over to say something to Peg. But there was only an

empty chair. I wanted her to know what just happened. The Sox

finally won it all. They took the Series. But then, of

course, my sister already knew. She was watching everything

from a much better seat . . . way up there.

And she was smiling.''

Mr. Speaker, further reserving the right to object, I yield to the gentleman from Massachusetts (Mr. Lynch).

Mr. Speaker, I yield to the gentleman from Massachusetts (Mr. Olver).

Mr. Speaker, further reserving the right to object, I yield to the gentleman from Rhode Island (Mr. Langevin).

Mr. Speaker, further reserving the right to object, just yesterday the gentleman who runs the Democratic cloak room was brought to the hospital for a little problem, and I understand that as he was heading towards the hospital clutching his chest, he was heard to say, ``It's okay, I've seen the Red Sox win. It's okay.'' He will be back soon.

But I will tell my colleagues that though many of the Sunday morning pundits are now thinking that some of us in Boston are scratching our heads wondering what happened on some issues this year, the truth is we are all looking at each other wondering how do we enter next year's baseball season now that we have won. We know what to do when we lose: do not worry, next year is it, we are going to make this trade. We have not got a clue how to deal with a win. So all of us at home are really kind of standing wondering now what do we do. We will figure it out, and we will stumble through. And the only thing I will say for the rest of the night is in 86 years, I will be back again to do this one more time.

Mr. Speaker, I withdraw my reservation of objection.

Mr. Speaker, I rise in support of H. Res. 854, congratulating the Boston Red Sox on winning the World Series.

The 2004 Boston Red Sox were no ordinary champion. I would urge my colleagues to remember the scene at Fenway Park as midnight neared on October 17, 2004.

The Sox had dropped the first three games of the American League Championship Series--a deficit that no team had ever surmounted. The night before, they were drubbed 19-8 before the hometown fans.

The Boston bats were silent. Their arms were spent. Their gloves were shaky. Their ace pitcher's foot was stapled to the rest of his leg.

Now trailing 4-3 in Game Four, they came to bat in the bottom of the ninth just three outs away from another close call, another heartbreak for another generation of Sox fans.

In the other dugout was a Yankees team that dashed our hopes last year and won 101 games this year--a team packed with talent and carrying a monster payroll of $184 million.

On the mound was Mariano Rivera, the best and most reliable closer in the history of the game.

Hovering over all of New England was the ghost of Babe Ruth.

Only a ``band of idiots'' could have believed that they could come back. And only the 2004 Boston Red Sox could have actually pulled it off.

But the slugger Kevin Millar patiently worked out a walk. The speedy pinch-runner Dave Roberts stole second, leaving third baseman Bill Mueller with the chance to tie it. He promptly did, smacking a single through Rivera's legs, and he--and all of the Red Sox Nation--watched Roberts speed home.

The game was tied. The Sox were alive. The Bambino rolled over in his grave. The Yankees' historic choke had begun.

David Ortiz ended the game with a twelfth-inning homer, and less than 24 hours later, the heroic ``Big Papi'' won Game Five with a fourteenth-inning single.

Game Six was won by the clutch Mark Bellhorn, the mythical Curt Schilling and the medical miracle workers who put his ankle back together.

In Game Seven, the Yankees succumbed to the biblical slugging of Johnny Damon and the untouchable sinkerballs of Derek Lowe.

The Series wasn't even close. The Cardinals had a great season, but they picked the wrong year to win the National League. 2004 belonged to Red Sox Nation. After the bitter endings of 1948, 1978, 1986 and 2003, we deserved it.

All of New England breathed a collective sigh of relief as the always dependable closer Keith Foulke grabbed the final ground ball of Game Four and tossed it to Gold Glove first baseman Doug Mientkiewicz for the final out.

For the first time in 86 years, the Red Sox are the World Champions of baseball--truly World champions, with a roster assembled from the Dominican Republic, South Korea, Colombia, Red-State and Blue-State America. Congratulations to the brilliant general manager Theo Epstein.

Congratulations to our field general, Terry Francona, and his lieutenants on the coaching staff.

Congratulations to the top brass--John Henry, Tom Werner, and Larry Lucchino.

Congratulations to World Series MVP Manny Ramirez. Congratulations to the dean of the Red Sox, Tim Wakefield. Congratulations to the bullpen saviors Mike Timlin and Alan Embree. Congratulations to the steady veterans Jason Varitek, Trot Nixon, and Doug Mirabelli. Congratulations to recent arrivals Bronson Arroyo, Orlando Cabrera, Gabe Kapler, and Pokey Reese.

Congratulations to the unparalleled Pedro Martinez--Pedro, please don't go!

Congratulations to the entire Red Sox team, who will be remembered forever as the conquering heroes who Reversed the Curse and brought a baseball championship to New England for the first time since the Wilson Administration. (Woodrow Wilson, not Mookie.)

Congratulations also to all the great Red Sox players of the past, including Johnny Pesky, Dom Dimaggio, Carl Yastrzemski, Jim Rice, and Luis Tiant--this victory was as much for them as anyone., The same can be said of Ted Williams and all the other Sox greats who have passed on, but who no doubt watched from the heavens above, smiling.

And most importantly, congratulations to baseball's most loyal and passionate fans: Red Sox Nation.

Mr. Speaker, on April 11, 2005, the Red Sox will raise the 2004 World Championship banner at Fenway Park alongside its counterpart from 1918. In the visiting dugout, watching the Sox try on their rings, will be a team that has suffered without a championship since the year 2000--the New York Yankees.

Don't worry, Yankees fans, there's always next year.

Mr. Speaker, will the gentleman yield?

Mr. Speaker, I thank the gentleman for yielding me this time.

I have an offering for the House this evening with apologies to Ernest L. Thayer entitled ``The Curse Has Struck Out.''

The outlook wasn't guaranteed for the Red Sox nine this year. Since 1918 the boys had left us crying in our beer. And when they lost twice in New York and lost again at home, a pall-like silence fell upon the loyal Red Sox fans.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. ``Wait 'til next year,'' they said. Resignation filled the air. The rest clung to that hope that springs eternal in the human breast. ``It ain't over 'til its over'' they muttered half in jest. They thought, ``If only our boys could put some bat on that ball, we'd put Bambino's curse to rest once and for all.''

And then Ortiz let fly a homer, to the wonderment of all. And Johnny Damon, bases loaded, tore the cover off the ball. And when the dust had lifted on that memorable night, we had come back from three games down, the Curse was in our sights.

Then from all of Red Sox nation's throats there rose a wild call, it echoed on the Common, it shook Fanueil Hall. It pounded on the River Charles, and splashed upon the Bay, the Yankees were all through, kaput, a World Series we would play.

And they rolled out to St. Louis, jewel of the Midwest. The Cards had won their league with ease, but now they faced a test. Were they ready for the Boston boys? The town was dressed in red. The fans could not be nicer, the team was so well led.

But the Red Sox took the first three games, competing nobly one and all. They overcame their errors, they answered every call. And as game four proceeded, and a series win now loomed, all New England shivered with the thought we might still be doomed.

What deus ex machina would fall down from the sky?

What Bucky Dent/Bill Buckner ghost might steer things all awry?

Keith Foulke climbed up upon the mound, ball burning in his hand.

The Curse stepped up to face him, to make a final stand.

There was ease in the Curse's manner as he stepped into his place.

There was pride in Bambino's bearing, a smile on the Curse's face.

And when, responding to his fans, he lightly doffed his hat,

No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas the Curse at the bat.

A nation's eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt.

60,000 tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.

Then, while Foulke rubbed the ball into his shifty hip,

Defiance flashed in the Curse's eye, a sneer curled on his lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,

And the Curse stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.

Close by the portly batsman the ball unheeded sped--

``I just can't hit that,'' said the Curse. ``Strike one!'' the umpire said.

From the canyons of Manhattan, there rose a muffled roar.

New York fans were screaming, ``Would the Curse really be no more?''

``Kill him, kill the umpire,'' they shouted in Yankee land.

The Curse looked smug. In 86 years the Curse had never fanned.

With a smile of overconfidence, the Curse's visage shone.

He stilled the rising tumult, he bade the game go on.

He signaled the Red Sox closer, and once more the dun sphere flew,

But the Curse couldn't hit it, and the umpire said, ``Strike two.''

``It's over,'' thought the Cardinals fans, who are brought up so well.

But the Curse gave a scornful look and an eerie silence fell.

They saw his face frown stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain.

And they really thought the Curse wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer has fled from the Curse's lip, the teeth are clenched in hate.

He pounds, with cruel violence, his bat upon the plate.

And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,

And now the air is shattered by the force of the Curse's blow.

Oh, all across this favored land the sun is shining bright.

The band is playing happily and our hearts are oh so light.

And Red Sox Nation smiles and laughs, and little children shout.

And there is pure joy in Beantown--the Curse has struck out.

I thank the gentleman for yielding. I was not intending to speak but I am now, because I am not a poet and cannot really compete with my colleague from Alden, but I am now goaded into speaking out of respect for my predecessor Silvio O. Conte who has just been referenced by my esteemed colleague from Boston (Mr. Lynch).

And so, Mr. Speaker, I am adding my congratulations to the Boston Red Sox for overcoming what many thought was impossible, namely, the toppling of the New York Yankees and ultimately overcoming the Curse of the Bambino. While our Nation is often described as polarized and divided, this Red Sox team managed to bridge these gaps and bring fans from all corners of the country into the Red Sox Nation. All the 2004 Boston Red Sox team will be remembered for their stars, Curt Schilling, Manny Ramirez, Pedro Martinez and David Ortiz, the real underlying message of this team is that the impossible can occur when people come together with the right attitude.

In their march to the world championship, the Red Sox overcame obstacles not through individual triumphs but rather through team effort. Players who had been stars with other

teams selflessly accepted lesser roles in the interest of the team. Such players could have easily sulked and pined for personal glory. Instead, they encouraged those who were participating and did their job when they were called upon. The triumph of the 2004 Boston Red Sox was twofold, physical and mental. While the Red Sox players, coaches and management would tell you they did not believe in curses, the fans and the media were convinced that there were forces at work far greater than those who give the curveball its break or cause a knuckleball to dance. Still, despite 86 years of expectations, capped by disappointments, this self-labored ``bunch of idiots'' managed to overcome preordained demise and ultimate collapse and they did it all with a goofy smile on their face, goofy styles in their hair and a love for the game that is a breath of fresh air in professional sports.

The 2004 World Series run will always hold a special place in the heart of Red Sox fans in the New England region as a whole.

Gone is the label of lovable loser and all the ``what if'' speculation in the papers and on the airwaves. For the first time in 86 years, the Red Sox Nation can breathe a deep sigh of relief this off- season and enjoy the fruits of the hometown team's labor. Gone are the columns speculating on the cause of their most recent demise, and in their place are columns about long-suffering fans able to rest knowing that they have seen in their lifetime what others in the past were not so lucky to see.

Mr. Speaker, 2004 will be a year remembered for many reasons; and while some of those reasons may fade with the passing of time, I am sure that the citizens of the Red Sox Nation will keep a not-so-silent vigil to ensure that 2004 is remembered as the year an impossible dream became a reality, the hopes of the faithful and long suffering were met in full, and the season that was always going to be next year was finally this year.

Mr. Speaker, I thank the gentleman for yielding to me.

Mr. Speaker, I rise today to privately say we finally did it. The Boston Red Sox have won the World Series for the first time in 86 years. Not only did they win, but they made history in the process. Congratulations to the gentlemen. They have done what so many thought was impossible.

As a lifelong Red Sox fan, I can honestly say that this is a dream come true. Like millions of other fans, I had such high hopes year after year only to see the World Series slip through our fingers. We have had so many opportunities during our long drought, but something was always missing. Time and time again when victory seemed to be within our grasp, fate intervened and the season would end once again with us muttering the line ``there is always next year.'' Next year was finally this year.

Self-confidence is the hallmark of this team embodied by Curt Schilling and is now classic mantra of ``why not us?'' History is in the past, and we must live and play for today, and that is what the 2004 Red Sox have taught all of us.

We also learned that over the course of this season that redemption cannot come easy. The Red Sox were three outs away from packing their bags for the winter, as they have so many times in the past. But perhaps the first time, these men knew they could not allow their arch rivals to celebrate at Fenway Park. More than that, Terry Francona knew that the Sox were not done and masterfully managed his team with four straight victories with the help of David Ortiz's amazing performances.

Red Sox fans know that the game is never over until the last out, but we have got to believe. We have all finally seen a dream come true. And it said that Red Sox, the Red Sox play 162 home games, the support of their amazing fans follows them everywhere and is a key factor that propelled the team to victory.

Finally, I am happy to be able to say this in my lifetime, that we did it and I look forward to the 2005 season when the Red Sox defend their World Series title.