The Happiest of Tears
It's happened. The Rangers have won their first World Series in franchise history.
Thirteen years. That’s how long the Texas Rangers have been prominent in my life.
I was just seven years old in 2010, the year the Rangers made their first World Series in franchise history. I was barely old enough to understand all the nuances of the great sport that is baseball. I was probably the most naïve baseball fan on the planet. I barely remember anything from that season, let alone the World Series loss itself. But I remember knowing that I loved the Rangers.
My dad took my brother and me to games throughout our childhood. We'd sit in that beautiful ballpark and bake in the hell-like sun, clapping and cheering with every strike, out, hit, and run. We'd leave sunburned and exhausted, but it was always a great time because baseball is the best. The Rangers, at least in my eyes, were the best.
Not only was my dad instilling Rangers’ love in me, but my elementary principal played a significant role. During morning announcements, Mr. Wagner would share with the fine students of Meadow Creek Elementary how the Rangers were doing. When the playoffs were near, he’d tell us about their magic number. It was like ESPN, but for kids. It helped provide the foundation for what has now become a die-hard fandom, for better or worse.
I dreamed of one day donning the red, white, and blue Rangers’ uniform. I wanted to be Ian Kinsler, Michael Young, Elvis Andrus, Adrian Beltre, Mitch Moreland, and so many others. Fun fact: My jersey for every baseball team I played on was the number 18 because of Moreland.
There’s been so much bad baseball in the Rangers’ history. In their inaugural 1972 season, they went 54-100, chasing off manager Ted Williams, arguably the best hitter of all time, after just one season in the Lone Star state. They finished an even worse 57-105 in 1973.
In 1996, the Rangers finally made the postseason for the first time in franchise history. They were subsequently dispatched by the New York Yankees. They returned to the postseason in 1998. Once again, the Yankees sent them home. Another good season followed in 1999, resulting in a second consecutive division title and postseason appearance and the third in the past four seasons. The Yankees swept them.
The turn of the century didn’t do much to help things. The Rangers only finished above .500 twice from 2000-’09. Then the magical seasons of 2010 and 2011 happened.
Once the Rangers won their second American League pennant in 2011, I thought that they were the best baseball team in the world. After they won that pennant, my dad frantically told my mother to drive to Academy to get us "Back to Back American League Champions" shirts. While I no longer fit in mine, I still remember what it looks like, smells like, feels like. That shirt meant so much to me; I wore it all the time.
If only eight-year-old me would’ve known the deep, dark cloud that presided over the franchise that was about to create the most destructive tornado in the history of Rangers baseball.
The 2011 World Series scarred me like it did so many others. Countless words have been written about the unspeakable happenings that year when it came to Rangers baseball. If you’re not familiar, and you like horror movies, it might be worth a Google.
I know it crushed my dad, too. It's taboo to mention the words "Game 6" in the Dowdle house. David Freese is a supervillain. He is "he who shall not be named."
That season formed the belief in me that it was impossible for the Rangers to win a championship.
But when it comes to truly horrendous baseball in Arlington, I think it’s imperative that we look at the previous three seasons prior to this magical 2023.
2020 was objectively not a fun year for anybody. The MLB season was obviously postponed until August and was shortened to 60 games. I was excited because I missed baseball so much, but I also knew that it probably wasn’t going to be that much fun. The Rangers were going to stink. And stink they did. They went 22-38 and finished last in the American League West. Jose Trevino and Jeff Mathis were the every day starting catchers. We were excited when the Rangers signed Derek Dietrich, a career .245 hitter. I think that about sums up how that season went.
In 2021, it was somehow worse. I was subjected to watching Jordan Lyles and Mike Foltynewicz give up a combined 73 home runs. The team finished 60-102, the worst season of baseball I’d ever seen. However, there were still some bright spots. Adolis Garcia emerged as one of the more fun players on the diamond. Nathaniel Lowe and Jonah Heim were finally getting consistent playing time. Fan-favorite Joey Gallo was always a joy to watch. He always had a smile on his face. The day he was traded to the Yankees was one of the saddest baseball days of my life.
2022 wasn’t much better, but the vision and plan were starting to form. In the offseason, the Rangers made two bombshell free agent signings—Marcus Semien and Corey Seager, the middle infield of the future. All for the low cost of half a billion dollars. This was the sign that perhaps the Rangers were serious about contending again. Maybe 2022 would be the year that things started turning around.
Nope. They went 68-94. Manager Chris Woodward was fired midway through the season. A couple of days later, president of baseball operations Jon Daniels, the architect who constructed the two teams that made the World Series in 2010 and 2011, was given a swift farewell as well. A dumpster fire.
For me, it was impossible to see how things could improve. Even with Seager and Semien, there was no pitching. And given the Rangers track record in developing reliable big-league arms in the past decade, I had reason to be skeptical.
Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined the spending spree on pitching that would happen over the next calendar year. Jacob deGrom was signed, then Andrew Heaney, and then finally Nathan Eovaldi. At the 2023 trade deadline, the Rangers traded for Jordan Montgomery and Max Scherzer. And boy, did they need all those pitchers, because they all kept getting hurt. deGrom went under the knife with Tommy John surgery in May, ending his season. Eovaldi missed significant time after the All-Star break. Scherzer missed the last month of the regular season before returning in the American League Championship Series against the Houston Astros.
So, this spending spree, accompanied by some exceptional trades and a tremendous job of player development in the minors was how the turnaround happened so quickly. Even after all that, I still didn't think it was possible to bring home the title. I was still waiting for that other shoe to drop.
I don’t think I’ve fully processed the spectacular, unfathomable, unbelievable, and extraordinary events that transpired at Chase Field on Wednesday, Nov. 1. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to wrap my head around the fact that the team I love so much stands alone atop baseball’s highest mountain. Prior to Wednesday night, I had never watched the end of a baseball season where I was pleased with the ultimate result.
Once that Josh Sborz curveball nicked the top of the zone for strike three on Ketel Marte, it was like all the sins of the past had been washed away.
All the previous pain was gone. The World Series losses in 2010 and 2011? It’s OK now. The brutal collapse in 2012? It’s OK now. The gut-wrenching playoff exits in 2015 and 2016 at the hands of Jose Bautista and the Toronto Blue Jays? It’s OK now. We can all rest.
I dropped down to my knees. I closed my eyes, fearing that if I opened them, it might’ve all just been a dream. When my eyes did eventually open, I realized that this was, in fact, the best moment of my sports-obsessed life. Tears flowed in the moment.
And they don't seem to be stopping. There have been multiple times in the last few days that my eyes would suddenly well up with tears. And every time it has happened, I’d either think or verbally say out loud, “Thank you.” To whom, I do not know.
Perhaps it was to Bruce Bochy, the future Hall of Fame manager who was pulled back into managing, only to win his fourth World Series. He's one of only six managers to ever win four or more titles, joining Hall of Famers Casey Stengel (seven), Joe McCarthy (seven), Connie Mack (five), Walter Alston (four), and Joe Torre (four).
Perhaps it was to Corey Seager and Marcus Semien, the two stalwarts in the middle infield who sparked this whole window of contention. Seager’s game-tying home run bottom of the ninth of game one of the World Series will be a moment that I will never forget. The primal scream that was released out of the usually stoic Seager will live in the memories of Rangers fans for eternity.
Perhaps it was to Adolis Garcia, who has crowned himself as the new owner of the city of Houston with his performance in the ALCS. He hit five home runs, recorded 15 RBIs, and had one of the sickest bat spikes of all time. And who could forget his heroic walk-off home run in game one?
Perhaps it was to Nathan Eovaldi, who has now cemented himself as a postseason legend. He became the only starter in MLB history to go 5-0 in the postseason. The Rangers went 6-0 in games he started over the course of their World Series run.
Perhaps it was to the two rookie standouts, Josh Jung and Evan Carter, the latter of whom is just one year older than I am. Jung would've been in contention to win the Rookie of the Year award had he not fractured his thumb in August, shortening his season. Carter was called up just over two months ago, and there's an argument to be made that he saved the season from completely derailing off the tracks. It's amazing how good those two are at this sport with how little experience they have in the majors.
Perhaps it was to Jonah Heim and Mitch Garver. Heck, let’s throw Austin Hedges in there, too. Heim and Garver are everything one could want out of a catching tandem. Heim’s defense is spectacular, and his bat has leveled up tremendously. Garver is a certified bopper. And then Hedges is the ultimate vibes guy. I love that man.
Perhaps it was to Josh Sborz and Jose Leclerc, the only two bullpen arms that Bochy could really trust down the stretch. Sborz was spectacular this postseason. He went from having a 5.50 ERA in the regular season to posting a 0.75 ERA over 12 innings of work while striking out 13 and walking just four. He. Was. Awesome.
But I don’t think I’d get so emotional if I was just thanking baseball players I have never met.
I only get so emotional about baseball because of one man—my dad.
I love baseball because of him. I’m not the man I am today if it weren’t for him, in life, or as a baseball fan. Perhaps it was just me saying, “Thanks, Dad. Thank you for giving me this gift.”
That’s what it is. It can’t be anything else.
I've read so many stories over the past several days of men who wish they could've watched that final strike with the person who gave them their love for baseball. They were so heartfelt. So touching. I cried through almost every single one of them. All those stories showed how sports can connect fathers and sons like nothing else. It's truly beautiful.
I was fortunate enough to get to experience the final moments of Game 5 with my dad and my brother. I’m lucky that I go to a school that isn’t too far away from my parents. My brother shares the same luxury. That’s what is the most beautiful about this whole experience—getting to relish and soak in the moments of a championship with the two men who were right there with me throughout the entirety of my fandom.
My dad jumped higher than I've ever seen him jump and screamed louder than I've ever heard him scream when the final out was recorded. I wish there was a video of it. I'd watch it every day.
Wrapping a tidy bow around my thoughts about this World Series is an impossible task. I’ve rewritten this section countless times. I don’t think I have the words in me to truly describe the emotions that have rushed through my body the last several days.
While none of my words can illustrate those feelings, Eric Nadel’s can. Nadel was the voice of my childhood. I, and so many other Rangers fans have the same story. We’d listen to his soothing voice call Rangers’ games as we went to sleep. He’s a baseball poet.
It makes me so happy knowing that after being the Rangers play-by-play voice for 45 years, he finally got to make the ultimate call. I think those words are the perfect way to wrap this sucker up.
“Sborz kicks and fires – he struck him out looking! It’s over! It’s over! The Rangers have won the World Series! Ranger fans, you’re not dreaming – the Rangers are the World Series champions! After 52 years in Texas, 63 years of the franchise, the wait is over, and the celebration has begun!”
I tear up every time I listen to Nadel's call. I tear up every time I think about the win. But yet, I'm smiling . . . through the happiest of tears.