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| Victory! |
I'm not sure there was ever a game in my entire life that had the up-and-down emotion of this game. Game 7 of the 1994 Eastern Conference Finals as a Rangers fan was close (and the recent comeback against the Bruins by the Rangers brought those emotions back in a bid way). But regardless of how emotional this game was, it was so much more emotional for me. I was a sophomore at Brandeis University. Brandeis is in Waltham, Massachusetts, a close suburb of Boston. Many of my school-mates were Red Sox fans and I had just started doing a radio show with Ben W and Jay which was full of Red Sox callers wanting to tell us how the Sawks were going to kick the Yankees butts all over the place.
I decided to go watch Game 7 with a mixed group of people. Mixed as in some Yankees fans, some Red Sox fans and some agnostics. I stayed about 30 minutes as the Yankees early hole left the Red Sox fans arrogant and ready to celebrate. If the Yankees were going to do go down in 2003, I was going to be sitting in Jay and my room watching it sans "Red Sox Nation".
As soon as Jay and I got back to our room, the tide starting turning. I paced around the room as the Yankees slowly ate away at the Red Sox lead and when Grady Little left Pedro Martinez in, Jay and I were hopeful for the first time all night. There was a chance. We couldn't sit, we couldn't stand still...we could hardly even watch.
And then Jorge Posada's hit fell and we went nuts. Like nuts-nuts. Like the type of nuts that make your college neighbors really mad at you.












