O P I N I O N

NOT THAT PROFOUND

By Nathan Graziano

When I reflect on October 27, 2004, exactly two decades ago today, it’s not hyperbolic to say that as a lifelong Red Sox fan, one of the happiest days of my life was when they ended the 86-year “Curse of The Bambino.”

All this week, I kept receiving text messages from family and friends about director Colin Barnicle’s new three episode documentary “The Comeback: 2004 Boston Red Sox,” which premiered last week on Netflix.

My problem was that I had canceled my subscription to Netflix months ago in a half-sober, sanctimonious moment where I convinced myself that I was sending a robust message to the streaming service about their increased prices and shoddy selections.

Anyhow, after a few nefarious maneuvers, I was able to access Netflix yesterday and view the documentary series on the 2004 Red Sox without compromising my own principles about capitalism.

Besides, I already knew the story. I lived the story of the 2004 Red Sox and wrote about it recently for a small magazine in Boston. So when I sat down to watch the three-episode series, I thought it would be a nice little nostalgic stroll down Memory Lane.

I underestimated it.

I was completely blindsided to find myself yelling at the television, rooting for Dave Roberts (now the Dodgers’ manager) as he stole second base on Mariano Rivera in Game 4, flipping off the Yankees former left fielder Gary Sheffield and former-Red Sox manager Grady Little, and bawling exactly like I did in 2004 when the self-proclaimed “Idiots” on Yawkey Way completed the impossible and came back from a 0-3 deficit against The Evil Empire, a.k.a the New York Yankees, in the ALCS.

In short, “The Comeback: 2004 Boston Red Sox” brought back all of those feelings I had as a 29-year-old young father staying up way too late to watch those games in October.

The first episode relives the 86 years of heartbreaking horror for the Red Sox and their fans, starting with trading Babe Ruth in 1918 and ending with Game 7 of 2003 ALCS and Aaron Effing Boone’s walk-off against the late-Tim Wakefield. The recent interviews with Grady Little then confirm what ownership and most Red Sox fans already knew: The former manager is Gomer Pyle and still can’t tell his ass from a hole in the ground.

The final two episodes relive the tumultuous 2004 season and culminate in the greatest and most unfathomable comeback in professional sports history.

One of the most illuminating parts of Barnicle’s recapturing of this well-documented story was hearing from the former players and management, who reflect with the gift of 20 years of retrospect. Former Red Sox GM Theo Epstein—the Yale-educated wonder boy at the time—steals the show with his frank and unflinching insights and analysis.

Former “Idiots” Johnny Damon, Derek Lowe, Kevin Millar, Pedro Martinez and David Ortiz also stand out. And it’s interesting to see who aged well (Lowe, Millar, Bill Mueller), who didn’t (Trot Nixon, Keith Foulke, Jason Veritek) and who seemingly didn’t age at well—former pitcher Bronson Arroyo seems to have Dick Clark Syndrome and hasn’t aged a day since 2004.

All in all, “The Comeback: 2004 Boston Red Sox” is an immersive experience for anyone, like me, who sacrificed their mental and physical health, gnawed their fingernails down to nubs throughout October of 2004, and ultimately witnessed one of the finest experiences in New England sports history.

With my anxiety around the Nov. 5 election exacerbating, this was the exact elixir I needed, a reminder that the universe will—on rare occasions—still wink at the underdogs.

You can talk about the Red Sox with Nate Graziano any time, ngrazio5@yahoo.com