Cardiac Kids and Chemotherapy

So here I sit in Bean Town during one of the most historic nights in baseball. I am not a baseball fan, but I cannot miss the significance of this night. It is the bottom of the 9th 2 outs and I am watching the game in my hotel room just like I sat in Cincinnati when they lost the 1975 World Series in what has been billed as the "best game ever" by many baseball historians. That irony is not lost on me. I was 8 years old and had every baseball card of both teams. The Sox just won! Coming from 3 behind to make the biggest comeback in baseball history. Sure most of the year they are a bunch of million dollar prima donnas but tonite they are a credit to the human spirit to survive. Transcending seemingly insurmountable odds when every one says it can't be done somehow transcends the sport and reminds us all that no matter how dark the night you can't give up. You have to rage against the dying of the light. My hat is off to you Sox. Thank you for not giving up. I will not claim to be a fan, somehow it's just too narcissistic to stake any claim to your moment of glory. I do however appreciate that I happened to be in town when it happened. A little piece of history I will take home in the form of a Red Sox hat to my best friend Chris. We have been closer that brothers for more than 25 years. He is fighting his own battle against one of the most deadly forms of cancer. Pancreatic. He too is raging against that goodnight. He is making his comeback and fighting seemingly insurmountable odds with much more dire consequences. I take it to him as a symbol of the hope that dreams can come true if you work hard and never, never give up. Besides, there is a practical side... it keeps his bald head from getting sunburned. I love you Chris. We have been through hell and back with water pistols and later with M16s. You are my Red Sox.
To those of you who are facing your own dark nights of the soul... GO NOT GENTLY.