Atlanta Braves: Spirited By Name, America’s Team Overcome The Odds

1995: it was a stellar year for sport. Eric Cantona’s hallucinatory kung-fu kick straight into the ribs of a gobby Crystal Palace fan should take home the ‘most memorable’ prize, whereas South Africa’s triumph at their own Rugby World Cup in the wake of Apartheid was perhaps a tad more significant in uniting a nation and sending Matt Damon to the Academy Awards. A time of Blur, Oasis and, err, Mariah Carey. Oh, and it was the last time the Atlanta Braves were World Series champions.

That is, until the other night. Rejoice, Atlanta! A city who’s sporting franchises have been relentlessly slapped with a ‘doomed’ sticker are now blessed by their Braves. Few anticipated this assemblage of injury-stricken artists to gloss over the regular season mediocrity and ascend from the overlooked to the overpowered. 88 wins; that’s all Atlanta amassed over the course of a fluctuating season. Not since the 2006 St. Louis Cardinals has a champion compiled fewer. And they did it against baseball’s most unloved: the Houston Astros.

Loss, loss, loss, loss. That’s how Atlanta’s year began. Philadelphia and Washington combining to instil early dubiety into the hearts of those with ‘Braves’ embossed across their chests. Then the injuries buzzed on in and by August they were under the .500 mark, languishing amongst the rest of the forgotten clutter of the NL East. Yet for all the tribulations and quandary they never relinquished their final calling; the once incomprehensible destiny: a fourth World Series for the Braves, a second for Atlanta.

It was the bats of Jorge Soler and Freddie Freeman, the arms of Max Fried and Ian Anderson that brought them this far. Not even a fractured right-fibula to veteran right-handed ace Charlie Morton halted them. For you see, this appetite for restored glory sat ingrained in their stomachs, bubbling furiously away. It was in Houston’s cacophonous Minute Maid Park where the Braves prevailed. Sure, they would rather have polished off their forever-ridiculed opponents on their own luscious home turf but there is something sweet, something just about eliminating the Astros in the comfort of their own home.

Fried was flawless in the finale — going six scoreless innings with as many strikeouts — as he combine with the inspired bats to push them to a 7-0 mauling. No, we shan't celebrate with that tomahawk chop, that offensive gesture embracing an ugly stereotype. In time it will be prohibited, and blissfully so, but this 4-2 series win; this one was deserved. Not purely for the colossal three-run projectile over the railroad off Soler’s prized timber, not even for Dansby Swanson’s basaltic blast that essentially killed the contest, but for their response after their most crucial hitters withdrew from their roster mid-way through the season.

First it was Marcell Ozuna — the Braves’ biggest offseason move — sent to the sidelines with injury before temporary banishment for allegedly assaulting his wife rightfully ended his season. And second it was their luminescent fledgling headliner, Ronald Acuña Jr., cruelly ruled out for the remainder with a torn ACL after buckling his knee on the warning track when attempting his best Clark Kent impression. At the time the Braves were 44-44 with playoffs an uncertainty. Now with their most affluent slogger weeping from the bleachers, the mere concept of exceeding ordinariness would have blown swiftly over the heads of those that flocked in their thousands to Truist Park.

But trust in the process. Baseball is renowned for miracles, comebacks and underdogs - it’s what it is built upon. The acquisitions following Acuña Jr.’s unfortunate omission arrived with instantaneous zeal. NL Championship Series MVP Eddie Rosario, Adam Duvall, Joc Pederson and Soler all assisted in restoring oomph to a depleted outfield. Infectious from the outset, it transformed an infield that looked re-invented, with Freeman at the core guiding, willing, defying.

The Braves brushed aside the Milwaukee Brewers 3-1 in the NDLS. Then they overcame last year’s hiccup. A smidgen over a year ago a slightly different Atlanta lineup wilted under it’s own pretension in flushing a 3-1 lead down the drains. The Dodgers rose from the fiery ashes on that occasion but this was an altered narrative. Shortstop Swanson smoothly collected the white, bouncing pearl before throwing a strike across the diamond to Freeman. The Braves are headed to the World Series.

Touchdown in H-town. The silver pendulum swings in favour of Atlanta and then Houston. The pulsating crowd switches from the Lone Star State to the Peach State as the latter spring into an Autumnal 3-1 series lead. Never write off the Astros, there is excellence gleaming from those once victorious names: Carlos Correa, Alex Bregman and Martin Maldonado bring them within one before the ferocious knockout blow.

Under the strip of glistening white lights giving Minute Maid Park’s vivid colours of orange and green a spotlight clarity the Braves struck first through Soler. A hefty beat of the chest before a swaggered trot around the bases, they were devoted on lifting the graceful Commissioner’s Trophy. Jump through to the fifth inning, where Swanson crushes a tasty fastball off the left-field facade before aptly dropping down onto the scores of the disquieted Astros cortege below. And then Freeman deals the final hand, the finishing

touch, the crowning blow. Backed by supreme pitching, the prolific first baseman dispatched Ryne Stanek to deep, deep centre field.

Will Smith on the mound in final ninth to confirm the already known. A runner on first, two outs with Yuli Gurriel at the dish. He slaps the ball to Swanson; it’s a routine play. Freeman plucks the ball from thin air, the Braves have won the World Series.

This was a victory of majestic lustre. They were clever, bold and, most importantly, true to their name. Coalescing a city who’s sporting franchises have suffered immensely, they can now idolise their baseball paladins. A Trojan Horse ambles through the heart of Atlanta. Follow with pride, follow with a smile - these Braves deserve their time in the celestial limelight.