Because that song, ugh, everybody knows their names in Boston. But it starts with the immortal Joe Castiglione call, rather than Joe Buck on the official MLB video, so.
I actually went to bed early the night of the last game, because I remember the Bill Buckner error in 1986. Didn't want to get crushed again.
Woke up the next day, and my boyfriend said, 'Hey, they won last night'. I said, 'They DID???'. Thought I would never live to see the day.
Life was simpler sixteen years ago...
the sox were up in the series 3-0 when you went to bed early.
Hey - we were cursed, remember??? My heart had been broken before....
a long-suffering Boston sports fan in general and Sox fan in particular, but it comes in third to Games 4 and 5 of the ALCS that year, where I was at Fenway to witness those two improbable, delirious comebacks against the vaunted, seemingly invincible Yankees.
(I'm with you, Adam, on the call. I watched most TV games with the sound off and Joe on the radio.)
The 2003 ALCS was my worst moment of my life as a Boston sports fan: that stupid snatching of defeat from the jaws of victory depressed me for weeks afterward. So the historic 2004 ALCS comeback could not have been sweeter or more spiritually restorative.
I felt uncommonly confident after coming back twice from 0-3 that they Sox would take the last two games in the Bronx. I didn't fear the Redbirds after that in the tiniest. Glad the Sox cemented it for all my long-suffering elder relatives, a dire drought ended, including my own living through three operatic seven-game World Series defeats.
Sure, this sealing of the deal: a fantastic moment. But only #3 in my heart of hearts. My eternal thanks, Papi!
The sportsball team in the general geographic vicinity of where I live is better than the sportsball team in the general geographic vicinity of where you live. Ha!
A Bronx cheer.
A Southie cheer!
My daughter was born about an hour after the Sox won and was one of the first kids born in Boston in that "new era." (ESPN2 even came and included some video of her in a story about the historic Sox victory.) Meanwhile my wife, not a big sports fan, was in labor while the game was going on. She kept hearing all this cheering and asked the nurses if they were cheering over babies being born. She had no idea (and had other things on her mind.)
Caroline Bum Bum Bum.
The moon was blood red during most of the game, too.
That's so damn cheesy that it would even have been cut from Field of Dreams. And yet it happened.
I remember a satirical news site with a headline something like "Cubs Astronomers looking for the next world series lunar eclipse".
We were putting drywall in the den and had the wall open. I rolled up and double bagged the celebratory edition of the Boston Globe along with other news and stuck it in the wall.
get their eclipse?
I was in the right field grand stands for game 4 of the ALCS. We got the tickets for free from a friend because a bunch of fair weather fans bailed out. Got the call as we were watching the game start at home.
My roommate and I jumped on the T and made it just at the end of the second inning. We never expected them to win but it was the height of Yankees rivalry and no way we're turning down ALCS tickets.
I was in right field as we saw Roberts steal second. Moments later, sometime after midnight in what was now the longest playoff game in MLB history (until the very next day), I watched a papi blast sail right by us and over the wall.
I often half joke that moment ruined live sports for me forever. No game in any sport I've been too since has carried the weight of that moment and that feeling of elation of 86 years of angst being washed away. Still get chills every time I see that highlight.
we used to have Mookie Betts on the sox.. can't wait till the sox have new ownership
When the 1986 World Series took place, I was six months into a relationship with the woman who would become my wife -- even after seeing me dissolve into a gibbering heap of protoplasm at the bottom of the 10th inning in Game 6.
In 2004, our older daughter and I watched Game 4 of the 2004 World Series at home of family friends, then joyously galloped, skipped and danced the several blocks back to our house. And we both went to the victory parade a few days later (OK, actually, she watched the parade with some friends of hers in one place along the route, and I watched it by myself at another spot).
My wife? Well, she continued not to care about the Red Sox, or Major League Baseball, one whit. But she was certainly glad I was a lot happier in 2004 than I'd been in 1986.
In 2004, I had recently finished treatment for cancer. I have lived with my parents and grandparents rooting for the sox with repeatedly broken hearts. My mom passed this year and I still can't see my dad in person in his nursing home -- 2004 is a sweet, sweet memory.
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