HOUSTON -- On the field, when the stage was being assembled and temporary barriers were being dragged, the Nationals still werent quite sure what happened was real.
They won. The game was over. One more time they rallied, one more time they pulled it off on the road in Houston. The end arrived 249 days after the two teams played their exhibition opener in West Palm Beach, Fla. Now what?
Chaos.
A scramble to find friends and family began. Max Scherzer tracked down his wife, Erica, to scream and celebrate. Daniel Hudson heaved two of his three daughters into his arms while his wife cried next to him. Joe Ross hugged and high-fived, then looked around at buzzing bodies to encapsulate what most were thinking at the time: Holy[expletive].
The Lerner family worked their way toward the stage. Quickly handed out were T-shirts and hats telling the Nationals they are World Series champions. Ryan Zimmerman pulled his on, discovered a World Series champions flag on a long pole, then trekked toward the Washington fans cheering behind the visitors dugout. He began to yank the flag side to side. Zimmerman screamed so hard veins in his neck bulged. Years of release in one moment. No more 100-loss season. No more unfulfilled expectations. Finally, a title.
Everything I could imagine and more, Zimmerman said. Unbelievable.
Once the ceremony ended, a second disassembling took place. Anthony Rendon leaned on one of the temporary barricades to talk with the media. Rendon often moved chairs in front of his locker to create blockage between him and reporters when large groups approached. Here, a natural one was built in. So, he rested casually on it, his forearms holding up his weight and his facial expression covered with all of the excitement of someone who just ordered coffee at a diner. He almost missed the team photo on the mound. Rendon ran over, cut in from the back -- Coming in! Coming in! -- then launched a single index finger to indicate the teams standing at the start of Halloween.
He and his teammates were herded off the field and into the clubhouse. Last down the dugout steps was Davey Martinez. The fans who remained chanted his name -- a far cry from those decrying it five months earlier. No one had a longer year. His bullpen betrayed him early, injuries wiped out the left side of the infield, criticism was unrelenting. Even his heart had trouble during the season.
When everything stopped, Martinez didnt think about the team, or May 24, or cynics.
A big thank you to my family, Martinez told NBC Sports Washington. My kids. Its been a long road. I put them through a lot. Im always gone and I appreciate them. The fact that they were here to enjoy this with me was incredible.
Ownership made its way into the clubhouse before Martinez. Ted Lerner, 94 years old, sat in a red folding chair on the outer edge of the clubhouse while alcohol flew and music he could never have fathomed growing up in the Big Band Era thumped. His son, managing principal owner Mark Lerner, leaned on his cane during a radio interview when Win by Jay Rock began, suddenly throwing three young women in his general vicinity into power dance moves.
Get out the way, get out the way, get out the way yeah (yeah)
Mark Lerner was unmoved by the gyrating. He remained more concerned about Zack Greinkes effectiveness in the game. Lerner wasnt sure if the Nationals had another comeback in them.
I really thought we were in trouble, Mark Lerner said. I said when they pulled him, We got this. I dont know why they pulled him. Thank God they did. And we took off from there.
Zimmerman noted earlier in the day how the team leaped from young franchise to annual contender once 2012 hit. For seven years, the Nationals carried a high payroll to mirror the expectations around the team. Lerner thought about how winning would feel. They dismissed managers often, paid a large chunk of the family cash for starting pitchers and angrily watched losses during what was viewed as underachievement. A final moment of joy was elusive in reality. However, its imagery kicked around inside Lerners head.
This is right up there with what I dreamed it would be, Mark Lerner said. It took a few years longer than we wanted it to, but not many people get to this point. Were very grateful.
A more time-tested celebratory ballad later came out of the stereo. Scherzer stood in front of the group soaked in alcohol with the World Series trophy pushed above his head and small black goggles over his two different color eyes, then began to sing.
No time for losers, because we are the champions...of the world!
He later sipped from a Budweiser in the hallway outside the clubhouse while recounting how his wife predicted the outcome. She also convinced him he could keep going after his neck turned to concrete Sunday morning.
She could just tell when we got to October, this is the team that was going to win it, Scherzer said. She had the belief and energy that we had the team, no matter who we were up against, we could win. She couldnt be more right because this team responded to every adverse situation possible. Never broke.
The night began to wind down once it turned to morning. Players posed with the trophy in front of a black backdrop while gold confetti was shot off behind them. Sean Doolittle took his lightsaber to the field for more photographs with his wife. Stephen Strasburg smiled, World Series MVP trophy in hand, next to one of his munchkin daughters, who stood clutching a stuffed dog, her head topping out midway up her fathers thigh.
A parade will take place Saturday at 2 p.m. through the heart of the city. Scherzer went to the last one. He and hitting coach Kevin Long blended into the streets as fans. Alex Ovechkin led the Capitals on a legendary booze-fueled gallivant through the normally stodgy town. They swam in fountains, wore sunglasses at night and generally spent the better part of a week discombobulated. The Nationals are next to be feted. Can they match the debauchery?
Well try, Scherzer said.
MORE NATIONALS NEWS:
See more here:
Quite a scene emerged after the Nationals won the World Series - NBCSports.com
