At the start of Game 3, I was returning on a bus from some trip...I want to say a college football game - maybe Army-Navy? Anyways...I was listening to the radio as well as I could and remember being pissed that the Yanks scored in the first...then as we were arriving back to our cars the Sox had tied it up so I was excited to get home to watch it. I arrived home at the top of the fourth and just watched dumbfounded as they went on to demolish us. I wasn't even angry. I honestly felt just deer in the headlights shock. Like the funny gif of the Yankee fan from Game 7. I had been here before and been mad...this time I was just catatonic.
I don't even remember moving from the couch. I watched Game 4 in the same spot. I sparked some interest when they took an early lead, but it died down as I seemingly just watched the season unravel slowly...I just kept thinking how this year had seemed so different. After last year, this was the team - they were better than 03 in every way and it just had a different feel to it. How could it be we were going to let these fucking Yankees do it again.
Millar walked to start the ninth and I felt a bit of excitement. I was talking myself down. Even if they win they still can't win the series...but that part of me just wanted desperately not to get swept.
When Roberts ran, I dug into the couch with my fingers until they were white. When Mueller got the base hit, I leapt off the couch and let this cathartic scream out. It just meant that much. When they didn't score again it kind of muted it a bit, til Ortiz took it home and I almost cried from exhaustion at that point.
Funny thing was - I'd like to say I was convinced then...but it pretty much happened the same way for Game 5. When Pedro lost the lead, I went into another deep funk (and put a hole in my fence - I didn't want my kids to see my senseless anger.) When they tied it in the 8th I felt a little dejavu...and again another cathartic scream though not as big followed with the walkoff single.
But the moment, I thought the page had finally turned (and honestly SHAME on me given the Sox's history) was when the call went against A-Rod in game 6. It was at that moment, it seemed like the world had realigned and there was no way we were losing game 7 at that point. My wife knew better and made sure she had plans for game 7
And I watched game 7 from the floor..and just didn't move and didn't cheer ...i let quick little "yeah" out during Ortiz and Damon's 2 homeruns. But that was it - until the end when I just cried happy man tears.....
I love reminiscing about that time. It did mean so so so much. Since that time I'm just as committed to the Sox but when they lose it's just a tad less upsetting...