In 2019, a Nike ad featuring Serena Williams told us all to “dream crazier.” The campaign looked to throw a spotlight on women who had broken barriers in sport, inspiring us to pursue our goals, but also go beyond them, to conquer the seemingly unimaginable. The ad inspired the hashtag “DreamCrazier” on what we used to call Twitter, enabling a company with a somewhat shaky reputation with some of its own stars -- I see you Allyson Felix -- to project a female-forward image.
That phrase “Dream Crazier” has been flashing through my head for the last several days as I embarked on a complicated and seeming irrational journey to Canada to see Taylor Swift’s final show of the Eras Tour. I’ve been lucky enough to see some incredible moments on a stage. I was in Madison Square Garden in 2005 when Bono brought out Mary J. Blige to sing “One” and just a few weeks ago I was there again when Cyndi Lauper brought out Sam Smith to accompany her on her iconic ballad “Time After Time. Taylor’s final Eras show generated much speculation and anticipation about special guests, special announcements, but her flex, it turns out, was to do what she had been doing across 149 shows, for 10 million people, for the better part of the last 18 months.
So, no twists, no turns, and yet, it was as special as we could’ve hoped for. I first experienced Eras last year at Gillette, or Foxborough for us old timers. It was a perfect May evening, our seats were decent, we’d paid face value, and I was there with my daughter and my best friend and her daughter. We marveled at the span of the three-plus hours show, woke up the next morning sore and exhausted from participating at every step, and so appreciative that somehow, we had been lucky enough to navigate Ticketmaster’s epic meltdown and obtain the seats in a legal, moral, and financially feasible manner. At the time, I had no idea that we would do it again, but we also didn’t know that in the middle of this epic tour, “Mother,” as those in the Swifty circle call her, was going to drop her double-album opus, “The Tortured Poets Department,” meaning there was another Era and for us, another quest, this time to Canada.
I’m not sure exactly when I became a Swifty. It is attached, for sure, to my own role as mother, the same part of that role that means I have also seen Harry Styles...a lot. But it is also attached to my identity as a writer, my thoughts about claiming female in this patriarchal world, and the journey I have been on with my bestie since we first met in Varsity Hall back at Taconic High School in ninth grade. I am in awe at Taylor’s facility with words and feelings, first and foremost, but also her ability to bring people together into a space that feels not just empowering, but safe.
This journey, to be clear, was a long one: drive to Boston, fly from Logan to Seattle. Drive to Vancouver. Find a basement room for rent that didn’t break the bank. And so on. But once there, living for a handful of days in a city that went all in to become the “Swiftcouver” we had hoped for, we got to rest in the elation of being with tens of thousands of people who were, in a word, happy. Swifties moved through the airports and train stations with kindness and consideration, bringing in those who didn’t understand what was going on. As Taylor told us from the stage on Sunday night, we created “a space of joy and togetherness and love.” And we really, really needed that.
The impact of Eras, we know, is almost incalculable: the performers -- Gracie Abrams, Sabrina Carpenter -- who have risen under her hand; the economic boost -- from hobby shops selling beads for friendship bracelets to restaurants and hotels and airlines seeing business explode -- is in the billions; the standard set by her on stage every night, seemingly tireless; the work-life balance she exhibited with a schedule that importantly included rest for her and her teams.
But it’s more than that. For those who couldn’t get there, live streams by fans each night remained fresh with the genius of her acoustic set, which evolved into creative mashups on piano and guitar each night. Indeed, for the final show in Vancouver, over one million people watched online, with those on the East Coast showing up sleepy for work the next day.
For me, that was the most memorable part of being at the final show of the highest grossing tour of all time. We speculated -- as did everyone, part of being a Swifty is unpacking the many Easter eggs she leaves for us -- about what she would play, and when she sat at the piano and began the chords, as we all hoped she might, to “Long Live,” her love letter to her fans, the moment erased just about everything else I’ve ever seen on stage. She mashed it up with the “party’s over” feeling of “New Year’s Day,” and then, just as she began Eras almost two years ago in Arizona with “Tim McGraw,” her very first song from her very first album, she ended with the words of “The Manuscript,” the very last song from her most recent: “Now and then I reread the manuscript/But the story isn't mine anymore.”
We will have a lot of time to fill in the coming days, the live streams over, replaced by the anticipation over what and when she will release next. But for now, I am just grateful to have born witness, my daughter and friends who are family by my side, to the story that is now ours to share.
Amy Bass is professor of sport studies and chair of the division of social science and communication at Manhattanville University. Bass is the author of ONE GOAL: A COACH, A TEAM, AND THE GAME THAT BROUGHT A DIVDED TOWN TOGETHER, among other titles. In 2012, she won an Emmy for her work with NBC Olympic Sports on the London Olympic Games.
The views expressed by commentators are solely those of the authors. They do not necessarily reflect the views of this station or its management.
