It was like something out of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” Some Puck went stealing among the Sox as they slept, and lo! They woke up greatly changed. Those who had been smooth of cheek now were strangely bearded. And a team that had hissed like vipers, now cooed like doves — in a pit still, not a nest, of course, but never mind. For now, forsooth, they who had been hopelessness itself, started to hit and hit and hit.
Then suddenly they were in the World Series and rising one after another, fantastically, to the occasion: Napoli! Gomes! Victorino! Ross! Lackey! Lester! Uehara! This Series was about redemption, resurrection, and resilience on so many levels it was hard to take them all in.