What the Washington Nationals' World Series Win Meant to Me (Part II)

Note: This is part two in a two part article. This builds off of the previous article, so I recommend that you read part one first.

I was born in Virginia in 1997, shortly after the New York Yankees stunned the Atlanta Braves to win the 1996 World Series, just a few days before Phil Niekro was elected to the Hall of Fame. That year, Rice's Matt Anderson would be the first overall pick to the Detroit Tigers, Ken Griffey Jr. and Larry Walker would win the MVP awards, the Miami Marlins would knock off the Cleveland Indians in the World Series, and the Montreal Expos would finish 78-84, fourth in the NL East.

I have to be honest here; as much as I would like to say I was, I was not a Nationals fan from the very beginning. Having not grown up with a hometown team (Maryland may as well have been another country), my first love was the Boston Red Sox, brought on by that 2004 World Series Championship and a Red Sox fanatic of a gym teacher that turned the entire elementary school into Red Sox fans that year. Johnny Damon, David Ortiz, Kevin Youkilis, and a young rookie named Dustin Pedroia – those were my guys. Even today, my dog who we brought home in 2011 is named Dusty after Dustin Pedroia.

So in 2005, when I was eight years old, the Nationals came to town but I was already "taken." However, while the Red Sox were out winning World Series and the Nationals were out there losing 100 games a season, something kept tugging me harder and harder towards the Nationals. By 2006, I was in the stands at RFK to watch my second favorite team, and one of my earliest stadium memories is of Alfonso Soriano's 200th career home run. Nine year old me really believed that I had just witnessed a historical event. By the time the Nationals drafted Stephen Strasburg in 2009, I was a full on Nationals fan as my Red Sox fandom continued to regress towards zero.

I think the most unique thing about this World Series run was not the Baby Shark, or the Stay in the Fight, or Max's black eye or Soto's heroics at such a young age or all the road wins against the Astros, but Ryan Zimmerman. When the Cubs won the World Series in 2016, they erased 108 years of pain. Of course, Kris Bryant, Anthony Rizzo, and friends hadn't even been born when the streak was already 80 years old, let alone had any connection to the Cubs. What the fans had experienced for 20, 30, 40, and in some cases, up to 100 years, was a new thing to the players. And we had the same deal here in Washington – Daniel Hudson, who closed out the World Series, wasn't even a National when we were 19-31 in May. Juan Soto wasn't on the 2017 team that lost to the Cubs in the NLDS, let alone the 2012, 2014, and 2016 teams. Big City Matt Adams was a rookie on *the Cardinals* in 2012 for Pete Kozma's heartbreaking hit. Even Stephen Strasburg wasn't around when Alfonso Soriano had his 40-40 season or when Nyjer Morgan slashed .351/.396/.435 after being acquired with Sean Burnett for Joel Hanrahan and Lastings Milledge. We as Nationals fans were, and as sports fans, we just accept that the players aren't nearly as tied to the history as we are.

Except there was Ryan Zimmerman. The longest tenured National has been around since we drafted him in 2005, meaning he witnessed and was a part of the entirety of the Nationals story right along with us. I mean, he was teammates with Brad Wilkerson. There are very few other stories in sports like that, where one player experiences the team's entire 15 year run to a championship, starting with the very founding of the team. That's why Ryan Zimmerman is and always will be the most popular and important figure in Nationals history, because in his own words, he grew up with the team. And so did I, in a different way, and his barehanded plays on soft ground balls and opposite field home runs to right field were how I learned to watch baseball.

Ryan Zimmerman wasn't the only player that made this team special, though. In all my years of watching the Nationals, I've never seen a group of players that was so darn likable. Gerardo Parra, between the Baby Shark and the clutch hits and getting the team to start dancing after every home run, was at the center of it. Anibal Sanchez, who I always thought of as "just another veteran pitcher" while watching him with the Marlins, Tigers, and Braves, turned out to be one of the most fun guys in the dugout. He and Parra would group hug a clearly anti-hugging Stephen Strasburg after every start. The kid Juan Soto was literally always smiling, even in the batter's box mid-pitch. Max Scherzer was an absolute warrior every time he went out on the mound, and even when he wasn't, pacing around the dugout whispering "gimme the ball, gimme the ball," trying to subliminally get into Davey's head. Not really, but probably. Anthony Rendon looked like he never broke a sweat all season long. Brian Dozier was the life of the clubhouse parties with his dancing and disdain for wearing a shirt. Sean Doolittle spent his free time doing charity and advocating for social causes. Howie Kendrick came out of nowhere to hit .344/.395/.572. I could go on and on, and I'm definitely leaving out other fun players like Trea Turner, Victor Robles, Michael A. Taylor, Kurt Suzuki, and more, but you get the point. How could you not pull for this group of guys?

I know that for me, nothing in sports will ever match up to this World Series win. Virginia Tech could win national championships in football and basketball, the Nationals could win twenty World Series in a row, whatever, this is probably the pinnacle. I grew up with this team, literally from humble beginnings to the top of the mountain, and I watched them play their best baseball when they were counted out time and time again. I pulled together the money to go watch Game 5 in standing room-only, then watched Game 7 on the scoreboard in the rain at Nationals Park. Now it's time to go bring back Rendon, Strasburg, and Zimmerman, and bring home number two.