Living in Ireland since 2007, Matt Steerman made a pilgrimage home to see his beloved Milwaukee Brewers play in baseball’s World Series for the first time in 44 years, hoping to see the Brewers finally win it all for the very first time.

On Wednesday night, the Brewers did just that, clinching baseball’s holy grail with a 4-1 series win against the Tampa Bay Rays.

You can read the earlier entries in Matt’s World Series diary here.

BEFORE WE GET to what I’m assuming you’re all here for, I should touch on the fact that for a brief 10 minutes on Tuesday night, the Milwaukee Brewers were three outs away from a World Series sweep.

Extra innings. Nail-biting stuff. But the baseball gods were against us, and the Rays fought hard to win in extra innings and force a Game 5.

It was OK though because I got to finally connect with Jack, one of my oldest friends and ride-or-die Brewers. Jack hadn’t been able to make it to Miller Park for Game 2 with the rest of the high school crew, so regardless of the outcome, it was great to complete the circle of friends and get a game in with everyone from my early days that mean a lot to me.

Jack and I went to our County Fair grounds for a watch party where over 1,000 locals brought their own chairs to sit in a big metal barn and share the experience together. A local charity group sold food and drinks to locals to raise money, with most of the attendees bringing their kids and the grandparents, generations splayed out in what was essentially a corn field with walls and a roof.

Tuesday was not to be the Brewers’ night, but it was yet another moment that was uniquely Wisconsin, and a reflection of what makes our fans so special. It doesn’t have to be a sexy location, as long as we’re together for the ride.

Fans gather to watch Tuesday's Game 4 at the County Fair. Matt Steerman Matt Steerman

 – Game 5 –

Wake up Wednesday, and a trip down to Chicago beckons. It’s not exactly the place I would have imagined I would be anticipating a World Series victory, but here I am. Family above sport forced me into this one as my mom is flying in, and I needed to be here to meet her before we both head back to Dublin on Thursday.

I have a soft spot for Chicago. It’s the city I moved to for my first job, it’s where I met my wife, and except for their horrible taste in sports teams, it’s one of my favourite all-time cities and people.

Even with a 3-1 series lead, I was nervous still, so I covered my bases, walking to Oak Street Beach, which is on Lake Michigan and in the shadow of the Hancock Tower. It’s my go-to spiritual spot every time I come to Chicago, and on a sunny day like this, watching the locals run and cycle along the beach while a few brave souls swim out in the shallow waters, I sat along the shore praying to all the gods in my mental Rolodex.

Oak Street Beach: "My go-to spiritual spot in Chicago". Matt Steerman Matt Steerman

I even booked a different hotel this time. Normally my go-to spot before I fly out is a must stop, but last time I was there, the Brewers weren’t doing well, so just to be sure, I mixed it up this time with new digs – you know, because this kind of rational thinking is totally acceptable when you’re trying to do everything in your power to bring a World Series to your people.

Back at the hotel, I circled Timmy O’Toole’s as the best spot to watch. An Irish bar known for sport, it was around the corner and I thought it might serve as a vibe hub with fellow fans to get my spirits going. Unfortunately, while baseball was the priority on the TVs, the patrons were more interested in catching up after work than being as laser-focused as I wanted to be on the baseball. The mood felt off just before first pitch: wrong vibe, wrong people. So I made a last-minute decision to go back to the hotel and watch it there. While it meant I was alone in body, it did allow me to connect and text with all my friends in a way that was incredibly enjoyable. And this felt right.

In hindsight looking back, the game was Brewers domination from start to finish.  I should have been relaxed but I wasn’t. I was sitting in a certain spot on the couch in my hotel room and refused to move just in case I would jinx the momentum building. Bathroom breaks would have to wait until things were going better in the game. I changed my Apple Watch to a Brewers team photo to keep trying new things to help the guys playing the game nearly 2,000 miles away. Again, totally rational behaviour.

My friends’ group chat is full of notes but also nervous energy. Jack made the decision to bring only one beer to his neighbours’ house, only drinking it if they won. I set up a little shrine of Brewers trinkets I picked up along the way last week on the coffee table.

Matt's Brewers-inspired watch face. Matt Steerman Matt Steerman

I never really allowed myself to smile or relax until we got to the eighth inning. The Rays were cooked; you could see it. Defeated after five games against the best team in baseball. It had to be exhausting for them as they threw everything they had, and the Brewers just wouldn’t give in, relentlessly hitting, walking and defending their way to a life-defining moment for all of Wisconsin.

I was finally leaning forward in my seat, counting down the outs with my friends on WhatsApp. Getting messages and photos of Uecker. Texts from family members asking if I’m watching. Getting ready for a release of energy reserved for sports fans that only happens a handful of times in your life if you’re lucky. Jack even got his one beer ready in anticipation of the moment.

And in the 9th inning, after giving up a meaningless run, it came down to Trevor Megill, our closer all year, the definition of a Brewer if you ever had one. Waived by the Cubs only five years ago, built up by the Brewers programme, and now throwing gas for a team on the cusp of baseball Valhalla.

Two outs. And the pitch… groundball to Turang at second, he picks it up, throws to Bauer at first, and… ballgame.

The Brewers, for the first time in their 57-year history, in their only second trip to the World Series in 44 years, were World Champions.

And relax…

The 'Brewers shrine' in Matt's hotel room, where he watched his team win the World Series. Matt Steerman Matt Steerman

I cried a bit in the moment, but not as much as I would have imagined. I think being physically solo probably accounted for some of that, whereas if I had some arms to jump into and high-fives to pass out, it might have elevated the amount of tears that were shed.

You might think, “Why didn’t you go somewhere to be with other fans?” You know what though? That’s OK. Because throughout the past week, being home and having the opportunity and experience of watching games with hundreds of different people, being close to all my good high school friends, seeing some family and friends’ families, it was all these little moments that brought me the most happiness. The ability to reconnect over beers and brats and tailgates and watch parties and walks with these people is what mattered most.

– What it all means –

There’s a quote that always hits me like a ton of bricks. It’s credited to the movie The Sandlot (a baseball movie, of course), and goes: “At some point in your childhood, you and your friends went outside to play together for the last time, and nobody knew it.”

That always hits me hard. The idea that some time in life the connection you have to friends changes because of life, growing up, responsibilities, whatever it is, and that you can never get this back.

This trip was in a small way a way to live by the mantra ‘Never Stop Playing’. It doesn’t matter how old you are, you can still go out and ‘play’ with your friends. You just need a moment and some support to keep these times going, and the Brewers gave us this excuse to do just that. You replace playing baseball in the park to watching baseball over some beers. You replace trips on your bike to the shop to trips in your minivan to a game. And the idea of being a kid with your friends again isn’t so far away.

I got to go to five different places to watch games in different environments with loved ones, strangers, and in the end, by myself, and curate this unbelievable memory bank of experiences I could have never imagined possible 20 or even 30 years ago.

Milwaukee Brewers left fielder Jackson Chourio celebrates. Ashley Landis / AP / Alamy Ashley Landis / AP / Alamy / AP / Alamy

All of this came about at the last minute due to the somewhat unexpected nature of what happened, which is the beauty of sport. You can’t predict it, can’t plan for it, can’t get guaranteed results out of it. You have to take the leap of faith and trust that this time it will be different, and by God it was.

I started this pilgrimage off the back of a single feeling after the Brewers beat the Dodgers to book their World Series ticket, a feeling I’ve never had before as a fan: of satisfaction. Everything to that point, all the hurt, all the close games, all the bad bounces, it was all OK because the patience paid off.

And wondered if there was a chance that the journey could keep going into something that made it all worth the years of rooting.

In the end, I can unequivocally say, it was worth it.

– For the Love Of Sports and Fandom –

I have a confession: I’m not much of a writer. And I don’t mean I’m a journalist who doesn’t work anymore. I mean I got straight Cs in English growing up, where the longest amount of thoughts jotted on a page was forced book reports or an email to my now wife / then girlfriend when we had to date long distance.

When I started chatting with the powers that be at The 42 about potentially writing about my World Series experience, I was hesitant and nervous. Who the hell wants to read about some schmuck who’s leaving his family to go follow some team from a state more famous for Miller beer, Harley-Davidson, or That 70s Show? 

I put my energy into riding the wave of emotions throughout the past few weeks, opening up the laptop and throwing thoughts on a Google Doc whenever the mood hit me, piecing them together. When I hit send to submit it, I was happy, but also surprised at the outcome. How is it that a skill that I’ve never engaged with in my life is something that feels organic at this moment? Sport seeps into your soul and it can make you do crazy things.

My belief is that the narrative of sport, the unknown nature of outcomes being the only true reality we have left in a world of AI, the collective experience we all have from birth to death about rooting for your team, your college, your county, is something that inspires all of us to wax poetic if the moment rises to you, whether it’s in the written word or with your friends at the local club. We are all writers of our own sports journey; we just don’t know we’re doing it in the moment. 

The Milwaukee Brewers. World Series Champions. Ashley Landis / AP / Alamy Ashley Landis / AP / Alamy / AP / Alamy

And then something comes along that hits you like nothing has before. The same feeling that hits you when you meet your significant other for the first time. Love at first sight kinda stuff. Mayo winning Sam for the first time in 75 years. Leicester taking the Premier League as a 5,000 to 1 shot. Rory and the Masters the first time. Ireland over All Blacks. Liverpool in Istanbul. Whatever you’re into, it brings you to a place you haven’t been before. It leaves you speechless, but wanting to document it so you can remember it and bottle it for yourself so that during the hard times that will come again, you can remember what the top of the mountain feels like.

I wasn’t born into being a Brewers fan. It was adopted by accident, because my dad took a new job in some state that calls itself America’s Dairyland. If I’m honest, if I knew then what I know now, why would anyone pick a team in the smallest city in baseball with no history of success? Why live a life in a relationship where the likelihood of ‘success’ is minimal based on history? Nobody would stay in a marriage that is not working, so why do the same with your sporting marriages?

Because of moments like these. You can’t buy them. You have to earn them. And when you do, you realise that they only really happen once.

This was mine, and it inspired me to be able to do something I’ve never been able to do before: to share my experience and emotions with a bunch of strangers through my writing.

Thanks to The 42 for the opportunity. Thanks to everyone who read and maybe can relate in some small way. Thanks to my friends who have joined me on this journey that started out over 30 years ago. Thanks to my wife Laura for hopefully not changing the locks at home.

And most importantly, thanks to the Milwaukee Brewers. World Series Champions. Jesus, I can’t believe I’m writing that.

You made me question my fandom sometimes, cost me money, cost me sleep, cost me grey hairs, but I’m glad I stuck with it. Sometimes it takes decades to get your moment as a fan. To anyone out there still waiting, my parting message is to stick with it, because it’s worth it.

It’s so worth it.