Never Give Up
William Rivers Pitt

You have to capture the mentality of the Red Sox fan. You start every season and every game almost completely sure that you will be beaten soundly. You lick your wounds and dust yourself off and maybe cry a little into your pillow. But you always, always think to yourself, “This could be it. This could be the year.” You do it because you want to be there at the turning of the tide. When that day does dawn, when some October night in a time to come absorbs the victory roar of people who have watched great-grandfathers and grandfathers and fathers live entire lives and die unfulfilled, when the Boston Red Sox finally win that championship, it will have been worth every moment of pain and disappointment.

For the Boston Red Sox, and for those who followed them and never gave up on them through sixteen Presidents, Prohibition, Women’s Suffrage, the Civil Rights Act, the introduction of the Big Bang theory, Hitler, Stalin, Mussolini, the Depression, World War II, the Holocaust, the obliteration of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the long slog of the Cold War, Korea, the fall of Saigon, the fall of Baghdad, the attacks of September 11, the assassinations of Gandhi, Evers, King, Kennedy, Kennedy and X, the long, strange trip that has been the stewardship of George W. Bush, and everything else that has marched across the pages of history for the last 86 years, there is a lesson in here somewhere.

As in baseball, so in life.

Source: William Rivers Pitt, “Believe,” truthout