There’s a scene in Twelfth Night, where the siblings Sebastian and Viola, who had feared each other dead, finally discover the other is alive.
Yet, they don’t immediately start celebrating. (“Viola, you’re alive!” “Sebastian! Thank God!”) Instead, (partly because Viola is dressed like a man) they proceed as if it is impossible to believe such good news without first providing each other with overwhelming proof:
SEBASTIAN: …Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,
I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,
And say ‘Thrice-welcome, drowned Viola!’VIOLA: My father had a mole upon his brow.
SEBASTIAN: And so had mine.
VIOLA: And died that day when Viola from her birth
Had number’d thirteen years.SEBASTIAN: O, that record is lively in my soul!
He finished indeed his mortal act
That day that made my sister thirteen years.VIOLA: If nothing lets to make us happy both
But this my masculine usurp’d attire,
Do not embrace me till each circumstance
Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump
That I am Viola; …
That’s what this upcoming three game series with the Angels is like.
The A’s have miraculously survived a shipwreck of a May to come back and reach a first-place tie with the Angels. It’s miraculous–could there be a happy ending in store for us?
But there’s that one little thing that holds us back, that makes us gather more and more evidence before we can believe it: we’ve been here before. We’ve seen more tragedies than comedies. We’ve seen the A’s have miraculous streaks; have big leads; make big comebacks; take the lead in playoff series…only to have our dreams crushed at the end in excruciating fashion by cruel fate.
Tonight, there’s a most wonderful buzz in the air. The excitement is building around us and within us. Our greatest hopes are right there, in front of our very eyes, but it isn’t quite enough to fully let loose. We need to know just a little bit more, just one more piece of evidence before we can truly accept that this is for real.
So as I head out tonight to the Coliseum, that’s what I’m seeking: the right combination of events, that extra line in the play, the perfect circumstance of place, time and fortune to demonstrate that A’s are indeed a championship-quality team.
1. yuck.