Hail to the Guardians — Megan Palmer

This past Tuesday the Cleveland Guardians ended their quest for the World Series in a downer of a loss to the NY Yankees. As heartbreaking as it was, it doesn’t take away from the fact that they had a hell of an unexpected season. As the youngest team in baseball with the lowest payroll, they superseded all expectations. The fact they won their division was incredibly exciting. No one expected them to get as far as they did, which is why I was so invested and so crushed when they lost game 5 in the best of 5 series. Plus, this isn’t the first time the high salaried Yankees have eliminated my team. In fact, it has been the case the last 3 times we’ve qualified to make a playoff run since 2016.

Since I was a kid, I have loved Cleveland baseball. Formerly known as the Indians until they changed their name this year to a less racist one, I have always been a fan. I’ve doubled down since their ploy in 2016 against the Cubs in the World Series, which they lost in a heartfelt 7 games. I can still tell you the main lineup from the late 80’s when I first got hooked on underdog baseball as a result of being in my own series of terrible softball teams. The year I was on a winning team the summer before 8th grade was the last year I played because the pressure was way too much for my average talent on the field. I could usually beat out the throw to first because I could run fast but I was also not much of a hitter.

Despite hanging up my glove for music and dance pursuits, I still maintained my love of the game, attending when my family could afford tickets or my Grandpa acquired seats through his job with Cleveland Pneumatic. We attended some frosty games at giant Municipal Stadium on Lake Erie, where the winds gusted right through you, no matter where you sat. I loved that stadium and if it was still standing, could probably navigate my way through it, especially since I had a job at the end of high school working in the loge booths, serving pizzas and cleaning up after the fancy people, finishing leftover Dom Perignon as I cleaned luxury boxes.

When Progressive Field (formerly known as Jacobs Field) opened, the mood was exciting in Cleveland. A little smaller than the old dinosaur, it was more expensive to go but I remember loving how the backdrop of my hometown looked behind the scoreboard and swore I’d always be a fan, no matter how bad they were. A run for the championship in the 1995 World Series versus the Atlanta Braves was thrilling, although I didn’t make it to any of those playoff games.

Fast forward to this year, my husband bought us tickets for Christmas to attend the Guardians vs Reds in Cincinnati in April since it was a quicker jaunt from our now home in Nashville. It turned out to be opening day, due to some complications with baseball’s starting date this year. It was a festive scene - I had never been to any opening day - and even though we were in the minority fan-wise we made the best of it and celebrated mightily when the Guardians took the win easily.

Jason and Megan opening day in Cincinnati - Guardians vs Reds

As the season blew by, we were surprised to note how well this team was playing, and as the all-star break came round in July it seemed we had a strong chance of making the playoffs. It was surprising since the Guards were a team lousy with rookies - 17 players on the roster made their major league debut this year - officially making them baseball’s youngest team.

When we clinched the playoff spot, JQ and I booked flights to Cleveland, determined to be there for the Wild Card run. Playoff logistics are complex, but since our record was 3rd best in the American League overall, we had to play one of two wildcard teams, which in our case was Tampa Bay Rays. Best of 3. Several weeks ago when they went on sale, JQ procured tickets for game #1 and I went for game #2.

Of course the start time of Game #1 ended up being at a very early 12:05 and our flights LANDED AT 11:55 but we prevailed thanks to my Uber-Dad - who picked us up and whisked us to Progressive, and we sauntered in at a cool 12:18, the middle of the first inning. Not too shabby. It was a quick game - 2 hours and 17 odd minutes, and WE WON - which was so exciting and strange for it to be over before a normal work day would be. We went back to my parents’ place in Parma to relax and prepare for Game #2, which really meant watching all the other playoff games taking place and analyzing how they might do versus our beloved team.

My parents were up for attending game #2 despite my foible of buying tickets in the literal last row of the upper deck of the stadium (I was day #1 post op to be fair) - We were in the folding chairs bolted to the back of the stadium! Talk about a chill in the Cleveland air - I could only hear Pancho and Lefty by Townes van Zandt in my head - the desert’s quiet and Cleveland’s cold - but Mom, being the trouper that she is, said, “These seats are great because we can see everything that’s going on!” I appreciated her enthusiasm and contended that she and Dad were well-experienced, raising 4 daughters, all of who were in the Normandy Marching Band and Dazzlers (the Dazzlers, which we all were, was the flag corps dance team) and it added up to 19 years of sitting in the cold and rain for sad football games that were much less exciting. And to prove their parenting, they never missed a game. Also note, during my tenure at NHS, in 4 years, we only won 3 times.

As the game went on, there was no score by the end of the 9th inning, and the 10th, 11th, 12th, 13th, 14th. Finally it got so cold we found some seats lower down in the upper deck, that were at least in the sunshine. No one dared to mention leaving. Not an option, and again, I love my parents for this. They are troupers in every sense of the word, and basically up for anything, usually the last to leave the party.

Our friend Jon Elliot was with us too and we were starting to get a little bit restless and hungry. I mean, someone had to score soon, right? Rookie Oscar Gonzalez came up to bat, and I said to Jon, “All he’s gotta do is hit one little ball over the fence, ya know?” Just then CRACK of the bat - he did just that - and we walked it off for a win in the 15th INNING!

Most of the sold-out crowd was still there and I’ve never felt the rush of a win like that in person before. We went crazy - screaming and crying and hugging and jumping up and down - it was pure and gorgeous mania. My parents, who had never attended a playoff game either, were sharing in the fun and it was a great moment, a great memory, one we’ll never forget.

Even though the outcome wasn’t as we hoped for against the Yankees, I am still so proud of this young team, their manager Terry ‘Tito’ Francona and Cleveland as a whole. JQ and I are already making plans for next year - because the rise of the Guardians has only begun.