no mah nomah. that's hard to fathom - it's gutwrenching and painful and seems like a bad dream. i remember fearing this last winter - life w/o number 5. i knew that it would be difficult, sure, but i envisioned a pennant race, the playoffs, and, gasp, maybe even a world series before i'd have to deal with it all in the offseason (and surely by that time, we'd have convinced him to stay, back in love with the city who adored him b/c he'd ended years of frustration and 'wait til next year's) but no, it's august, and already reality is setting in. it hurts; it really does. i've cried more a/b nomah leaving and becoming nomar than i did a/b my parents moving ten hours away. i tear up every time i see him in that cubs hat or i catch a glimpse of number 8 on sportscenter highlights. i feel like i've been left at the alter; the groom walked out b/c i was too demanding, too meddlesome and asked too much of him (all of which i've been guilty of in previous personal relationships). i've always asked too much of people - i know it's next to impossible to live up to my expectations, and nomar just exemplified that; he always appeared to be so withdrawn and to himself, but maybe that's the way we wanted him to be - we put him on a pedestal, the questioned why he didn't join the others far below. b/c that's how our teddy was, to some degree. but when they smiled, they could light up the room. both played the game the way it was intended to be played. it's a child's game, and yes, it's a job, but nomar played with such joy and enthusiasm. he was a constant hustler who grinned, always tipped his hat and cheered and applauded the crowd. his at-bat rituals see out of place in chicago, almost as if they don't deserve such superstition (although who else but chicago appreciates superstition, after boston that is). i hope he's happy - i truly do, but much like i hope an ex-boyfriend is happy, but yet he still fondly remembers me as the one who got away.
nomar always received the longest standing ovations, a crowd who cheered his every move. we chanted 'nomah's bettah' whenever jeter batted and rejoiced in the fac that we possessed the country's best shortstop (even before arod moved to third - remember the public outcry over the proposed arod trade last winter). captain intangibles had nothing on our number 5, just check the statistics. it had to be hard on him - a relaxed, laid-back californian thrust into the middle of fast-paced, hard-core east coast hustle and bustle at it's worst. nomar was under constant scrutiny when all he ever wanted was to play the game he loved. he thrived at fenway, making a living lining doubles off the wall. he brought hope to a region of embittered pessimists. our own teddy ballgame annoited him baseball's best hitter. he drove us crazy swinging at the first pitch or overthrowing first with his cannon of an arm, but yet thrilled us with his 3 homerun birthday, his acrobatic catches and his graceful ability to make unbelievable plays.
he was boston's favorite son, more loved than matt or ben, both homegrown boys, than manny or pedro, more outspoken personalities. he was the larry bird of his time, the boy wonder who marched to his own drummer, but represented his sport and the city of boston with class and dignity. he was a favorite of children throughout new england, countless of whom undoubtably cried in their cereal august 1st and wondered what he had done wrong, why he had to leave, what they had done to be punished so.
it's hard to imagine the red sox without number 5, but now it's a reality. it gets easier every day, but it still hurts. my heart breaks when i see him running out grounders to the pitcher at wrigley, stealing second with two out, grinning from ear to ear. he likes having his name pronounced correctly and enjoys not being a constant source of debate. sure, he cried when he left, is open a/b admitting that, but the springs def. back in his step. the weight and burden of red sox nation now lifted off his shoulders, he is free to be himself and to relax and simply play baseball. hopefully smething positive will come of this, and we'll understand why nomah had to go. but it's impossible that i'll ever get over the one who got away.
