There was still hope in the frayed voices of the Fenway faithful. Too much, perhaps. As Jacoby Ellsbury walked to the plate in the eighth, they cheered. As J.D. Drew lifted a fly ball to right field, they cheered. Hadn’t they given up yet? Hadn’t they headed for the exits, the jubilation of a 10-run first inning turned into discouragement and regret, that ocean-deep lead turning to a deficit with frightening quickness?
They hadn’t. That’s why they stood, a catch in their throats, as Dustin Pedroia shot a ball to left field, hitting it high off the Green Monster. That’s why they roared, as they sensed the tide turning, as Ellsbury rounded third, headed home, slid into the plate.