Brian Scalabrine was hammered. Absolutely sloshed on champagne and whatever else he was drinking in the Celtics locker room after they beat the Lakers in 2008 to win their 17th World Championship. For some reason he was called up to the podium to speak to the media.
“Maybe now you could say I didn’t play a second, but in five years, you guys are going to forget. In ten years I’ll still be a champion. In 20 years I’ll tell my kids I probably started, and in 30 years I’ll probably tell them I won MVP.”
And that’s exactly how I’ve felt over the last week and a half.
For those who don’t know, I work full time for the World Series Champion Washington Nationals as a ticket sales Account Executive. Now I am not naive. I don’t really think I deserve to be considered a champion as much as the players on the field, or the coaches, or even the baseball ops staff. I didn’t do anything that contributed to the success on the field. In fact, I didn’t do much to help off the field either. But this is my story and how I came as close as I possibly could to being a legitimate World Series Champion baseball player.
We’ll start all the way back towards the end of April when I was sitting on an Amtrak train from Washington DC to New York City (exactly what I am doing as I write this). I was going up to interview with the New York Yankees. My initial one year program with the Nats was ending. My managers kept reminding me that they wanted me to stay and wished they had a spot for me. Sports is a weird industry; in sports you don’t just get promoted. You don’t get more money and a new title just because you’re doing a good job. You only get promoted if there is a legitimate spot for you. And for me, there was no spot with the Nationals.
I thought my interview with the Yankees went really well when something frustrating happened. They offered me the exact same position I had with the Nationals. They wanted me to do the same one year program I had just finished, except with them.
I turned down the Yankees thinking that my time in sports was over. I had a decision to make on a lease and had decided to sign a year long lease in Washington DC knowing that there was a chance that nothing was going to open up and I’d have to leave the industry I spent years chasing. However, two days later I found out that one of my co-workers was leaving and there was a spot for me with the Nats.
Two days. Two freaking days. I look back to this moment and can’t help but think what would have happened if the Yankees had offered me the job I wanted. I would’ve taken it and moved to New York and god knows what my life would have looked like.
So I was promoted and had committed long term to the Nationals. But something terrible was happening. The Nationals sucked. Absolutely sucked. We were 19-31 on May 23rd and I had no idea how I was supposed to sell season tickets. Fans were revolting, I knew I would make no commission and have to call people who wanted to just tell me to “screw off.”, if they used terms that austere.
I can’t tell you how hard it was to grind away and have to call people and ask them if they wanted to buy season tickets when the team was this much of a disaster. It was brutal.
But the Nats started winning and they kept winning and they kept winning. They started dancing in the dugout and the whole baby shark thing happened. It was easy to see that this team had something.
The last week in September we finally clinched home field for the Wild Card game. We were going to host a playoff game at Nationals Park! I was cautiously optimistic. I was extremely excited to have a playoff game at my office. I had never experienced anything like a Wild Card game before. I knew we were better than the Brewers, especially since their MVP Christian Yelich was injured.
You all know the story and I don’t need to recap what happened. But I’ll say this. I had no idea Juan Soto hit the ball past the RF until I saw a replay the next day. I had an obstructed view. All I know is that there was a lot of screaming and yelling. Holy shit, we actually did it. We were going to play the Dodgers.
I thought we were going to get walloped. The Dodgers were the best team in the NL all year. Let’s fast forward to Game 5. Again, I don’t need to recap the entire season for you guys. This is just my reflection. As of today, if someone asks me what both the best game of the 2019 Postseason and my favorite moment was, it’s easy. Game 5 of the NLDS.
The author getting his chance with the trophy
We were hosting a watch party at the park, because the game was in Los Angeles. The Nationals had always lost in Game 5s, so this was the demon that we needed to overcome. The mood the entire game wasn’t good. This was ANOTHER year we were going to blow it. Another long offseason. More days where people weren’t going to want to take my call.
But the same god who looked down on me in April was helping me again. Anthony Rendon and Juan Soto hit back to back home runs off arguably the greatest pitcher of the last 10 years (Clayton Kershaw) and Howie Kendrick hit a grand slam to send me jumping into the arms of my co-workers.
There were about 5 of us standing in left field watching the game on the scoreboard. I think I blacked out due to the excitement, but I remember just running around screaming and hugging people that looking back on it were weird to hug. I was cursing around my boss. It was a wild scene. The Nationals had broken their curse. They had won a playoff series. And I was there to experience it.
The Cardinals series was mostly a blur, and not just because it was over in 5 days, but because it wasn’t particularly exciting. We beat the Cardinals and that’s when things went into overdrive.
Holy shit… we were in the World Series. We were working 15 hour days, we weren’t eating well, we weren’t sleeping. It was insane. These days in the office were a bonding moment. In fact, one of my co-workers slept under his desk. This was the “enjoy the ride” moment that so many people had talked about. I was in the World Series, as close as I could possibly be.
A few days before Game 1 we were told that we would be flown down to Houston. A chartered flight. Are you kidding me? We were driven right onto the tarmac, walked right onto the plane and are a full meal in our seats. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to take a commercial flight again. And winning it in a Game 7, in comeback fashion, watching in a suite full of my co-workers all made everything even more special.
When people ask me why the Nationals winning the World Series means more to me than any other championship this is part of why. I was right in the middle of this one. I got to party with co-workers and walk in the Championship Parade. I’m not a champion because I played well. As I mentioned earlier, I didn’t contribute at all. But I was there. I experienced it. I experienced the hardships of a baseball season. The client issues, the daily struggles of a job that isn’t so much a 9-5 job, the group theme nights, the phone calls, everything. Getting to celebrate because MY team won – a team I was truly a part of.
No Boston championship can now ever truly match this one. It’s kind of sad that this may be the peak, but it’s also just the facts. You really learn to love a team when you go through all of this. The payoff is worth it. When people work in sports, this is what they strive for. I can’t imagine working in sports and not being a fan. So when you grow up a fan of the sport, you dream of spraying champagne all over each other after a championship. This Nationals season is by far the closest I’ll ever get to fulfilling that dream.
