The Grace of the Unexpected

I keep catching myself with a stupid grin on my face this morning. The Atlanta Braves won the World Series. This was not supposed to happen.

They never sniffed a winning record until August 6. One of their star pitchers never saw the mound all season due to injuries. Their best player who was in the midst of a MVP-caliber year was lost in July. Their general manager overhauled a decimated outfield at the trade deadline when other teams, teams with better records were selling out to wait for next year.

They ground it out, hung around in a weak division, started to string together wins, and found their way to a NL East pennant in the last week of the season. That was supposed to be it. At 88 wins, there were teams that missed the playoffs with better records than Atlanta.

So no one really expected anything out of this team in the postseason. Few predicted they would make it out of the first round against Milwaukee. Not to mention they were an Atlanta team and Atlanta teams have become known across sports for their ignominious playoff failures. Every time the Braves lost, sportswriters and fans knew that the other shoe was dropping.

Except every time Atlanta lost, they came out the next game and won. The team did not seem to care about history or supposed curses or how conventional wisdom said they weren’t supposed to be there. They didn’t get down. They just went out, played well and with heart. And they won. They won it all.

There is encouragement in that. We all like to think that our sports teams are unqualified good guys with life lessons to impart. Sports are not that tidy. For example, it is well past time for Atlanta to retire the Tomahawk Chop and give serious consideration to changing their name (Atlanta Hammers would immediately become one of the best and most meaningful names in baseball; do it for Hank). Yet watching this team’s joyful perseverance has been, if you’ll pardon the pure Wisconsin cheddar of it, inspirational.

Do not give up. It does not matter what people say that you are capable of or how history assumes that you’ll choke in the end. We are not bound by what has happened. You have got to at least try. It is true that it does not always end the way you want it to. Yet if you work hard, are surrounded by hardworking people of joy who love and support you, and, yes, have some faith then there is always a chance.

We follow sports in part because of geography or an affinity for players. But at the heart of our fandom is memory and relationships. I have reflected a great deal during this run on countless hours talking with my brother about the Braves, how awesome it was to go to games with my family growing up, and getting to see my first ever playoff game with E.A. I have thought a lot about my Grandma who was a huge Atlanta fan and would always be watching Braves games on TBS. I don’t know how heaven works, but I like to think that she was at a watch party with Hank Aaron.

For those reasons and more, these last few weeks have been some of the most fun (and occasionally stressful) in my years as a sports fan. It has been even better than when Atlanta won 26 years ago because, while that win was great, it was more of a relief. The unexpected audacity of this team crushing expectations and history has been a complete joy and a reminder of some the best parts of sports. Congratulations Atlanta. And thanks.