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…
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.