I mean he was safe by like a foot...20 years ago today

Heating up in the bullpen

Member
SoSH Member
Nov 24, 2007
1,311
Pittsboro NC
This may not be popular, but they should interview Schilling for game 6, and Damon for game 7. I don't like how the Yankees sold 2009 commemorative stuff without Arod in the pic, or tiny Arod in the corner. Game Six was Schilling, the slap, Bellhorn, and Foulke on Fumes. All those guys should be part of it. Both those guys have won that title and I will never pretend they were not part of it.
The preview for Game 6 included Schilling.
 

2th

New Member
Jul 20, 2005
1
Bay Area, California
Very long term lurker here. I've enjoyed the bantering here for many years, but never felt I had anything worthwhile to add.



But I have a story that kind started with The Steal, and you, my fellow SOSH brethren and sistren here, may be the only ones who will get it. I apologize in advance if this ends up a little long.



I'll be as brief as I can setting the stage, because you all lived some version of this story. I grew up with all the pain and suffering as you all did. Unbelievable humiliating losses to the MFYs (among others) over and over again. I'm 56 now, so 1986 was smack dab in the middle of my formative years, and I was fortunate not to been arrested for the temper tantrum I threw. The Steal was an amazing moment. But I knew. It was just Lucy teeing up the football for me to try and kick it again. Game 5? You're not fooling me Lucy as I sat on the edge of my seat, not allowing that glimmer of hope to sneak in. Oh no, I've been down that road before. Not again. Game 6 – get out of here Lucy. I want to believe you this time, but I know what you're doing. You're setting me up for the biggest let down yet. I'm not falling for it.



Then came Game 7. We jump out to a big quick lead (thank you Papi, thank you Johnny). This could actual happen?! The lead gets bigger. Eighth inning comes along, though, and in comes Pedro. I can't decide if this is awesome, for so many reasons, or if this is the beginning of another Grady Little moment. First batter? Double. Second batter? Double. Oh shit oh shit oh shit – it's happening again. I can't sit any more, I'm pacing nervously back and forth like Rain Man when he misses Wapner. The lead is insurmountable, right? Right??? But I've thought it was a done deal so many times before, and yet every time that football gets pulled out at the last second. Could it possibly be different this time?



It's at this very moment that my wife walks in with our first child, a 1 month year old boy, and says “you need to feed him.”



Time stopped. Imagine Dr. Strange in Infinity War. My mind instantly goes through 14 million different possible outcomes to this. If I feed the baby, every outcome ends in 1 of 2 ways: 1. It happens again - the Sox blow a seemingly insurmountable lead for the biggest let down in history. In my uncontrollable agony, my baby goes flying against the wall, or possibly the floor. Or 2. It finally happens – the Sox finally erase the curse, and my baby goes flying off the ceiling as I raise my arms in victory. Either way, not good for baby.



So, I look over to my wife, begging for sympathy with my eyes, and say “I'm sorry, I just can't.”



Silence. The hairs on my arms stood up as I got “The Look.” I wish I had words to describe the look I received. No words were spoken, yet much was said, mostly involving some kind of wishful maiming of my body. I knew I would be joining Dante for several levels of his journey in the coming days, weeks, maybe years. Yet, as a loving and caring father, this was a sacrifice I was willing to pay for the life of my newborn child. I know – I'm amazingly altruistic, right?



As she walked silently out of the room, I watched the rest of the game, and my childhood demons were erased. A ground ball to second base, an easy toss to first, and the joy I felt was indescribable. I was literally crying with happiness. The pen I had been fidgeting with in my hand went flying off the ceiling (see... I told you so).



The couch was amazingly comfortable that night.



It's been 20 years now. Around this time every year I remind my now 20 year old son that I saved his life that day. I interpret the eye roll as “yes Dad, you're the best. I can't believe the sacrifices you made for me. I love you.” I'm good at reading people this way.



And my ex-wife (come on – did you really think it would last..)? Well, she may never get it, but that's OK. We have an awesome son, and daughter, and they have a Dad who will do anything for them. I'm still waiting on the Dad-of-the-year award for 2004. I'm thinking it'll come posthumously. That's how these things work. So I have that going for me. Which is nice.
 

chrisfont9

Member
SoSH Member
Very long term lurker here. I've enjoyed the bantering here for many years, but never felt I had anything worthwhile to add.



But I have a story that kind started with The Steal, and you, my fellow SOSH brethren and sistren here, may be the only ones who will get it. I apologize in advance if this ends up a little long.



I'll be as brief as I can setting the stage, because you all lived some version of this story. I grew up with all the pain and suffering as you all did. Unbelievable humiliating losses to the MFYs (among others) over and over again. I'm 56 now, so 1986 was smack dab in the middle of my formative years, and I was fortunate not to been arrested for the temper tantrum I threw. The Steal was an amazing moment. But I knew. It was just Lucy teeing up the football for me to try and kick it again. Game 5? You're not fooling me Lucy as I sat on the edge of my seat, not allowing that glimmer of hope to sneak in. Oh no, I've been down that road before. Not again. Game 6 – get out of here Lucy. I want to believe you this time, but I know what you're doing. You're setting me up for the biggest let down yet. I'm not falling for it.



Then came Game 7. We jump out to a big quick lead (thank you Papi, thank you Johnny). This could actual happen?! The lead gets bigger. Eighth inning comes along, though, and in comes Pedro. I can't decide if this is awesome, for so many reasons, or if this is the beginning of another Grady Little moment. First batter? Double. Second batter? Double. Oh shit oh shit oh shit – it's happening again. I can't sit any more, I'm pacing nervously back and forth like Rain Man when he misses Wapner. The lead is insurmountable, right? Right??? But I've thought it was a done deal so many times before, and yet every time that football gets pulled out at the last second. Could it possibly be different this time?



It's at this very moment that my wife walks in with our first child, a 1 month year old boy, and says “you need to feed him.”



Time stopped. Imagine Dr. Strange in Infinity War. My mind instantly goes through 14 million different possible outcomes to this. If I feed the baby, every outcome ends in 1 of 2 ways: 1. It happens again - the Sox blow a seemingly insurmountable lead for the biggest let down in history. In my uncontrollable agony, my baby goes flying against the wall, or possibly the floor. Or 2. It finally happens – the Sox finally erase the curse, and my baby goes flying off the ceiling as I raise my arms in victory. Either way, not good for baby.



So, I look over to my wife, begging for sympathy with my eyes, and say “I'm sorry, I just can't.”



Silence. The hairs on my arms stood up as I got “The Look.” I wish I had words to describe the look I received. No words were spoken, yet much was said, mostly involving some kind of wishful maiming of my body. I knew I would be joining Dante for several levels of his journey in the coming days, weeks, maybe years. Yet, as a loving and caring father, this was a sacrifice I was willing to pay for the life of my newborn child. I know – I'm amazingly altruistic, right?



As she walked silently out of the room, I watched the rest of the game, and my childhood demons were erased. A ground ball to second base, an easy toss to first, and the joy I felt was indescribable. I was literally crying with happiness. The pen I had been fidgeting with in my hand went flying off the ceiling (see... I told you so).



The couch was amazingly comfortable that night.



It's been 20 years now. Around this time every year I remind my now 20 year old son that I saved his life that day. I interpret the eye roll as “yes Dad, you're the best. I can't believe the sacrifices you made for me. I love you.” I'm good at reading people this way.



And my ex-wife (come on – did you really think it would last..)? Well, she may never get it, but that's OK. We have an awesome son, and daughter, and they have a Dad who will do anything for them. I'm still waiting on the Dad-of-the-year award for 2004. I'm thinking it'll come posthumously. That's how these things work. So I have that going for me. Which is nice.
I love this. IYKYK, as the kids say.
 

BaseballJones

slappy happy
SoSH Member
Oct 1, 2015
27,700
ALCS. Sox-Yanks. Following an epic 2003 ALCS. 86 years. No pitch clock. Games lasted HOURS.

It was, as a Boston sports fan and a romantic lover of baseball, the greatest sports theater imaginable. For me, as much as I love the Patriots (and all their success), and as incredible as playoff hockey is, it was the greatest sports theater of my 54 years of life. The 1980 US Olympic hockey win over the USSR was the greatest single sporting event, but the 2004 ALCS was dragged out over day after white knuckle day.

Nothing will ever be like it again.
 

Average Reds

Member
SoSH Member
Sep 24, 2007
36,508
Southwestern CT
The only thing I have to add is that this thread is wonderful.

I remember those days as if they happened yesterday. And watching the various videos that Red Sox are posting is simply fantastic.

This thread also makes me miss Wake. And DRS. RIP.
 

LynnRice75

a real Homer for the Sox
SoSH Member
Jul 15, 2005
7,593
Oviedo, FL
When the Sox reached the ninth in game 4, I feared the worse. I had to leave the TV room and the National broadcast and slip into my office to pull up the Boston radio broadcast on the computer. Wanted to hear the hometown version of the end.

I listened to The Steal and The Single up the middle.

Then, because of my superstition, I stayed in the room and listened to The Win.

I went back and watched the recording of the win, but superstition prevailed and I followed the same ritual every game.

I watched 8 innings then moved to the other room to listen to the rest.

The ritual and sacrifice paid off.

Once the World Series started, my confidence and optimism allowed me to watch full games again.
 

CaptainLaddie

dj paul pfieffer
SoSH Member
Sep 6, 2004
39,935
where the darn libs live
Goddamn well, I guess I'll spill my guts here, from 2004. My friend was the editor from the student newspaper at my university in Canada (Queen's University, cha gheill!!) and after it was 3-3, he asked me to write something if they came back -- I sent this to him at 3:53 am the night they won the ALCS. I don't think I've shared it here before, so here we go (and yes, I was touting SOSH back then).

Apologies in advance for my idiocy and not amazing writing, but it was what I could do after all that.
I was born in Boston, Massachusetts. I was raised no more than a 15 minute drive from Fenway Park. I was raised Red Sox fan. What does this mean? Suffering. Pain. Loss. Bad luck. I was at Queen’s for five years, and I dealt with plenty of Leafs fans. Here’s the thing: you guys have a championship since World War I, and you haven’t been losing to the same guys for the last seventy-five years. It’s one thing to won in the last sixty years; it’s another thing to have been losing to the same team the entire time.

Being a Red Sox fan means being a fan twelve months a year. When the Patriots were in the process of winning 10 in a row last winter, the Red Sox still had the front page of the sports section around here. The Red Sox are essentially a religion in this part of the world. Not winning a World Series for eighty-six years will do that to you (mind you, they haven’t won it this year either). What it won’t do is cause you to give up hope. I have literally spent my life adoring this team. I have forced girlfriends to watch games, only to find them caring about who this “Nomar” is and why he seems to have an obsessive-compulsive disorder. I have called people at 2 AM to ask scores when I’ve been out of town. I have spent countless hours on Internet message boards like SonsOfSamHorn.com trying to get a handle on what it’s like in Red Sox Nation. I have seen Bucky Dent (who hit a fly ball for the Yankees over the Monster in Fenway Park in 1978 in the last game of the year to beat the Red Sox) and Aaron Boone (another Yankee, who hit a home run in the 11th inning of Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS) torture friends and family. I have changed my clothes in the middle of a game because my team was not winning. I have gotten phone calls from friends’ parents asking about “how many different pitches does Keith Foulke throw?” We are a strange breed, Red Sox fans. We have a history of losing, but we’re not losers. We have the third best winning percentage of any franchise in baseball in the ESPN era (since 1979). We’ve been to the playoffs in 1986, 1988, 1990, 1995, 1998, 1999, 2003, and of course, 2004. It’s also just close, but not enough.

Last year, in October of 2003, I was constantly on edge. My grades dropped. My job became secondary. I stopped shaving (you know, playoff beard). I became noticeably irritable when someone didn’t understand what OPS (On-Base Percentage plus Slugging Percentage) was. I bought a bottle of champagne, praying, hoping. When Aaron Boone’s home run off Tim Wakefield hit the outfield bleachers, I lost it. I punched a wall. For days, friends (both non-fans and Yankee fans alike) were coming up to me saying things like “…are you okay?”, in a tone that implied that someone close to me had died. I was depressed. The whole city of Boston was depressed. Another year, another truly heartbreaking loss for the Red Sox and their fans.

Last November, the Red Sox went out and made a deal for pitcher Curt Schilling. Curt made his decision to be traded based partially on talking to Red Sox fans on the internet. By mid-December, when everyone else was studying for exams in Stauffer Library, I was keeping an eye on SonsOfSamHorn regarding the possibility of Alex Rodriguez, the best all-around player the game, going to the Red Sox in a trade. I spent hours not studying for my exams and instead refreshing my internet browser to see if we would get the covered shortstop. After the deal fell through, he ended up going to the Yankees. It was another victory for the Yankees over the Red Sox; a coup that basically showed why the Yankees always win, and the Red Sox always lose. We were the losers again, and of course, once again to the Yankees. After a long season, with the Red Sox making the playoffs and beating the Anaheim Angels 3-0 in the ALDS, we were faced once again with our continual enemy, the New York Yankees. Some people say the Red Sox and the Yankees have a rivalry; but when one team has won 26 championships in the last 86 years and the other has won 0, how much of a rivalry is that? It’s about as much as a rivalry between a hammer and a nail.

This brings us to Sunday. The Red Sox, despite being favored by Las Vegas, were down 0-3 in the the ALCS versus the Yankees, and had just suffered the worst loss in playoff history, a 19 to 8 beating at home, in Fenway Park. Only 2 teams in the history of professional sports had come back from an 0-3 deficit, the 1942 Maple Leafs and the 1975 Islanders; in other words, no baseball team had done so, and only 5 teams had even made past being swept. On Sunday, David Ortiz hit a two-run homer to win the game, making the series 1-3. I was so enthralled with how they had done, I ended up getting a ticket for Game 5, which was also my birthday. In the longest game in postseason history, David Ortiz (or, Big Papi) had another hit to give the Red Sox a win, making the series it 2-3. After the heroics of Curt Schilling and his sutured ankle, the Red Sox had won Game 6, making the series 3-3. The Red Sox had done something no team in baseball history had done – they had survived being down 0-3 and made it to 3-3, forcing a Game 7.

Game 7 was to be played on Wednesday, October 20th. I made it to the Baseball Tavern, a bar about one block from Fenway Park. After what felt like hours of torture, the Red Sox beat the Yankees 10-3. This was, and will be, one of the top five moments of my life – when Ruben Sierra grounded to Pokey Reese to end the ballgame, I hugged probably two-hundred strangers and high-fived another two-thousand. I cried a bit. My twin sister and I just hugged and screamed. The guy I grew up across the street from (and whose father took me to my first Sox game) and I jumped up and down screaming at the top of our lungs. This wasn’t just a win – this was an exorcism. This was the greatest comeback in sports history (let’s face it, those hockey teams didn’t have a national media press on their backs for their game 7’s). This was the greatest choke job in sports history, but not by the Red Sox; no, this time it was by the New York Yankees, the “winningest franchise in sports history” – normally it was the Red Sox who choked, this time it was our bitter rivals. As the bar poured out onto Boylston St and the thousands of Sox fans converged on the area, I just sat there, taking pictures and shaking my head. I had seen my team make the most improbable comeback in sports history. This had transcended the game though – I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders. But do you know what the funny part about all this is? There is still a World Series to be played, yet I still feel like the Red Sox are a winner, no matter what. Go Sox.
Anyway, WHEW.
 
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ookami7m

Well-Known Member
Lifetime Member
SoSH Member
Jul 15, 2005
6,062
Mobile, AL
Absolutely. I wish I were wearing a heart monitor during the top of the 9th (when Tony Clark's ground rule double juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuust made it over the fence to stop Rueben Sierra at 3rd and save the series) and when Wakefield was on the mound in the top of the 13th and Varitek had no idea where the ball was going and Sheffield was on 3rd base (I had to turn my back to the TV -- I couldn't bear to think two years in a row the Yankees would beat us in extra innings of the ALCS because of this player I loved rooting for).

Edit: Now watching the replay I was CONVINCED this ball was going to be a Home Run. Honestly right now rewatching this my blood pressure just shot up and I had a heart stopping millisecond where I worried the ball was going to go over the wall... 20 years after it didn't. Yeah... we were shells of human beings that week.

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORG0mphzrD4
I will still say that this may be the most scared I have ever been in my life. To have come back this far and for THAT GUY to crush our comeback..... When it bounced I let 20 years of fandom exhale just a little bit and thought "maybe we can"
 

Sin Duda

Member
SoSH Member
Jul 16, 2005
1,215
(B)Austin Texas
I will still say that this may be the most scared I have ever been in my life. To have come back this far and for THAT GUY to crush our comeback..... When it bounced I let 20 years of fandom exhale just a little bit and thought "maybe we can"
Tony Clark would be at the top of my list of players who were good/okay before the Sox, suck on the Sox, and were good/okay afterwards. I fact checked my memory: for seasons with >80 games played, Clark's OPS+ were 98, 126, 129, 131, 47, 100, 95, 154, 102, 84. Guess which one is his single season with the Sox? He was an All-srar the previous season in Detroit.
2002: 90 G, .207/.265/.556, 47 OPS+/SPOILER]
 

Al Zarilla

Member
SoSH Member
Dec 8, 2005
61,572
San Andreas Fault
[/QUOTE]
For me it was the overturned call on Slappy. There was something so bush league, and so unusual to get a massive (if deserved) break, after getting the earlier overturned call on the Belllhorn HR, that seemed like the stars were aligned AND the Yankees were actually bullshit.
That was a super, super key moment. The Sox had been great in pulling out games four and five, and getting the nice lead in game six behind Schilling, but here come the F’ing Yankees again. Even when Joe West got the crew together to review it and the slomo showed a clear slap of the ball by ARod, I wasn’t sure they’d call it a foul or infraction. The umps had to leave after the game in a very hostile environment if they did and the Sox won. I even thought of the Immaculate Reception by Franco Harris in Pittsburgh and maybe the refs were afraid to change that one. It would have been just 4-2 with runners on, what, second and third for them with just one out if they didn’t call it. Bless Joe West and his crew though for making the right call. It certainly wasn’t in the bank yet but I felt like maybe I’d slipped into a parallel universe or at least a phase change of this one with regard to the Red Sox.
 

Red(s)HawksFan

Member
SoSH Member
Jan 23, 2009
23,031
Maine
That was a super, super key moment. The Sox had been great in pulling out games four and five, and getting the nice lead in game six behind Schilling, but here come the F’ing Yankees again. Even when Joe West got the crew together to review it and the slomo showed a clear slap of the ball by ARod, I wasn’t sure they’d call it a foul or infraction. The umps had to leave after the game in a very hostile environment if they did. I even thought of the Immaculate Reception by Franco Harris in Pittsburgh and maybe the refs were afraid to change that one. It would have been just 4-2 with runners on, what, second and third for them with just one out if they didn’t call it. Bless Joe West and his crew though for making the right call. It certainly wasn’t in the bank yet but I felt like maybe I’d slipped into a parallel universe or at least a phase change of this one with regard to the Red Sox.
It really was that moment that convinced me that there was something different about that post-season. This was still relatively fresh in my mind that night, having only been five years previous...



To have the umps get together and get a call correct and in the Sox favor was a gigantic paradigm shift in how a Red Sox post-season was supposed to play out.
 

54thMA

Member
SoSH Member
Aug 15, 2012
10,321
Westwood MA
Not going to lie; bottom of the ninth, game 4, I gave up. The 19-8 beating the night before was bad enough, watching these assholes dance on our lawn, I just couldn't bring myself to watch.

My sister sends me a text "Are you watching this?"........I replied "Nope"....she comes back with "Well Millar walked, Roberts is pinch running"..............my first thought was fuck it, not taking the cheese, then I turned it on and watched the oh so close pick off, then the steal, then the base hit to tie it.

Ok, I was back in.

As a family, we decided to watch the rest of the games together at my parents house, 5, 6, and then 7. The rollercoaster of emotions, the highs, the lows, we went through it as a family; when they won it in game 7, we had a huge group hug, laughing, crying, the whole nine yards.

First thing my Mom said "My Father and my two brothers are up in heaven dancing Zorba the Greek style over this"...................

Such awesome memories; both of my parents are gone now, up in heaven with the rest of my relatives, all my aunts and uncles are gone now too, but the memories and the joy that team brought me and my family will never, ever be forgotten.

People who aren't sports fans are really missing out.
 

hoothehoo

Member
SoSH Member
Jul 15, 2005
1,188
Here
I’m sorry. I just have to brag a teeny tiny bit.
IMG_9040.jpeg

That’s me in the little yellow circle.
One of my good friends father had tickets. He didn’t want to go and couldn’t sell them for anything.
So he tossed them to us. I found out the three hours before the game and booked it to Fenway

Best Thing Ever.
 

cantor44

Member
SoSH Member
Dec 23, 2020
1,867
Chicago, IL
Very long term lurker here. I've enjoyed the bantering here for many years, but never felt I had anything worthwhile to add.



But I have a story that kind started with The Steal, and you, my fellow SOSH brethren and sistren here, may be the only ones who will get it. I apologize in advance if this ends up a little long.



I'll be as brief as I can setting the stage, because you all lived some version of this story. I grew up with all the pain and suffering as you all did. Unbelievable humiliating losses to the MFYs (among others) over and over again. I'm 56 now, so 1986 was smack dab in the middle of my formative years, and I was fortunate not to been arrested for the temper tantrum I threw. The Steal was an amazing moment. But I knew. It was just Lucy teeing up the football for me to try and kick it again. Game 5? You're not fooling me Lucy as I sat on the edge of my seat, not allowing that glimmer of hope to sneak in. Oh no, I've been down that road before. Not again. Game 6 – get out of here Lucy. I want to believe you this time, but I know what you're doing. You're setting me up for the biggest let down yet. I'm not falling for it.



Then came Game 7. We jump out to a big quick lead (thank you Papi, thank you Johnny). This could actual happen?! The lead gets bigger. Eighth inning comes along, though, and in comes Pedro. I can't decide if this is awesome, for so many reasons, or if this is the beginning of another Grady Little moment. First batter? Double. Second batter? Double. Oh shit oh shit oh shit – it's happening again. I can't sit any more, I'm pacing nervously back and forth like Rain Man when he misses Wapner. The lead is insurmountable, right? Right??? But I've thought it was a done deal so many times before, and yet every time that football gets pulled out at the last second. Could it possibly be different this time?



It's at this very moment that my wife walks in with our first child, a 1 month year old boy, and says “you need to feed him.”



Time stopped. Imagine Dr. Strange in Infinity War. My mind instantly goes through 14 million different possible outcomes to this. If I feed the baby, every outcome ends in 1 of 2 ways: 1. It happens again - the Sox blow a seemingly insurmountable lead for the biggest let down in history. In my uncontrollable agony, my baby goes flying against the wall, or possibly the floor. Or 2. It finally happens – the Sox finally erase the curse, and my baby goes flying off the ceiling as I raise my arms in victory. Either way, not good for baby.



So, I look over to my wife, begging for sympathy with my eyes, and say “I'm sorry, I just can't.”



Silence. The hairs on my arms stood up as I got “The Look.” I wish I had words to describe the look I received. No words were spoken, yet much was said, mostly involving some kind of wishful maiming of my body. I knew I would be joining Dante for several levels of his journey in the coming days, weeks, maybe years. Yet, as a loving and caring father, this was a sacrifice I was willing to pay for the life of my newborn child. I know – I'm amazingly altruistic, right?



As she walked silently out of the room, I watched the rest of the game, and my childhood demons were erased. A ground ball to second base, an easy toss to first, and the joy I felt was indescribable. I was literally crying with happiness. The pen I had been fidgeting with in my hand went flying off the ceiling (see... I told you so).



The couch was amazingly comfortable that night.



It's been 20 years now. Around this time every year I remind my now 20 year old son that I saved his life that day. I interpret the eye roll as “yes Dad, you're the best. I can't believe the sacrifices you made for me. I love you.” I'm good at reading people this way.



And my ex-wife (come on – did you really think it would last..)? Well, she may never get it, but that's OK. We have an awesome son, and daughter, and they have a Dad who will do anything for them. I'm still waiting on the Dad-of-the-year award for 2004. I'm thinking it'll come posthumously. That's how these things work. So I have that going for me. Which is nice.
I want to add some common cause here. My daugther was born in 2003 and on her first night on earth (or maybe second?), with her in my lap in the hospital, I watched the Red Sox lose an ALDS game to the A's on a walk off suicide squeeze. And I whispered in her ear, "welcome to Red Sox nation." I was at ALCS game 7 in Yankee stadium, a couple weeks later, to witness all that horror, much to my wife's chagrin, leaving her on solo parent duty with our two-week old (we were living in Brooklyn).
Fast forward to 2004, game 7 ALCS. I had the SAME response when Pedro came in and starting giving up hits. Just freaking the fuck out, and my wife came into the living room (just one room over from the bedroom with half bedroom attached in our Park Slope apartment), our one-year-old daughter asleep, glaring at me and said, "you need to go take a walk around the block - get out of here." And so I did. And as I walked, from out of apartment windows, I heard the yells and cries of New Yorkers watching the game. I walked back into our apartment exactly as Bellhorn's fly clanged off the foul pole. In this sense, my freak out was framed as an overreaction, a gratuitous disruption of our daughter's sleep (and shit, maybe it was, but this was a few decades of sports trauma being released). The vibe was chilly the rest of that night in our 1.5 bedroom flat. I tried to enjoy the Sox victory anyway. And in the end my marriage would have the same fate as yours! (maybe there's a documentary in here somewhere) ...
 

RobertsSteal

New Member
Jul 15, 2005
95
Northampon, MA
These videos are such a welcome walk back to some better—and STRESSFUL—days as a Sox fan. Five decades into following them and nothing compares. If I have the mind and luck to remember it, I think I’d want to watch these videos in my dying days.

(btw, @cantor44 and @2th — who HAS TO BE a dentist — my young kids play into my story too. My 1 year old daughter cried out from her crib just before the Boone HR in ‘03, and my son bears a version of my moniker as his middle names. Oh, and the marriage, unlike the championship banner, didn’t last.)
 
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chrisfont9

Member
SoSH Member
That was a super, super key moment. The Sox had been great in pulling out games four and five, and getting the nice lead in game six behind Schilling, but here come the F’ing Yankees again. Even when Joe West got the crew together to review it and the slomo showed a clear slap of the ball by ARod, I wasn’t sure they’d call it a foul or infraction. The umps had to leave after the game in a very hostile environment if they did and the Sox won. I even thought of the Immaculate Reception by Franco Harris in Pittsburgh and maybe the refs were afraid to change that one. It would have been just 4-2 with runners on, what, second and third for them with just one out if they didn’t call it. Bless Joe West and his crew though for making the right call. It certainly wasn’t in the bank yet but I felt like maybe I’d slipped into a parallel universe or at least a phase change of this one with regard to the Red Sox.
I've been thinking more about it and I guess what it really was about was delegitimizing the Yankees. Slapping the ball out was the breaking point. Because up til then the Yankees were presumed legitimate and the Sox were struggling to be seen as equally so.
 

Manuel Aristides

Member
SoSH Member
Apr 7, 2009
279
I was blessed to be at this game, and in the moment, it didn't seem *that* close. Got home and saw the replay and had like my seventh heart attack of the night even thought it was done.
 

BaseballJones

slappy happy
SoSH Member
Oct 1, 2015
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Foulke threw 100 pitches over those three days.
I've done this before but this is a good opportunity to do it here. Consider the three closers for the Sox in 2004, 2007, and 2013, and their postseason performances.

2007 Foulke - 14.0 ip, 7 h, 1 r, 1 er, 8 bb, 19 k, 0.64 era, 1.07 whip, 12.2 k/9, 1-0, 3-4 sv
2007 Papelbon - 10.2 ip, 5 h, 0 r, 0 er, 4 bb, 7 k, 0.00 era, 0.84 whip, 5.9 k/9, 1-0, 4-4 sv
2013 Uehara - 13.2 ip, 7 h, 1 r, 1 er, bb, 16 k, 0.66 era, 0.59 whip, 10.5 k/9, 1-1, 7-7 sv

Hard to know which guy's performance was better.

- Koji almost never let anyone on base. The one run was a Loboton homer in the ninth at Tampa that lost a game, but otherwise he was basically perfect. And not just perfect...dominant.

- Papelbon simply didn't allow any runs whatsoever. He didn't strike many out, but the job doesn't require it - it just requires getting guys out and not allowing runs, and that's all he did. Zero runs allowed in 10.2 innings. Insane.

- Foulke probably had the highest degree of difficulty, and just kept pitching, night after night. Only allowing the one run, but he did walk a tightrope on occasion, hence the "high" whip of 1.07.
 

tims4wins

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Jul 15, 2005
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It’s hard to remember experiencing the slap play in the moment. Was that the most stressful 2 minutes of our entire life before they called him out?
 

BaseballJones

slappy happy
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Oct 1, 2015
27,700
Between overturning the Bellhorn homer and the ARod chop, it really felt like maybe, just maybe, it was going to happen for the Sox that year.
 

Strike4

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Jul 19, 2005
4,283
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Game 6 was when I finally broke.

I lived in NYC at the time and starting in 2003, it turned into this big long thing against the Yankees. Not just in baseball season, not just when it was on TV. The constant harassment when wearing a Red Sox hat, the camaraderie when you'd silently nod at a fellow fan wearing a hat as you passed on the sidewalk, the A-Rod saga, all compounded by having Extra Innings and watching too many games and going to places like the Hairy Monk and The Riviera Cafe. I remember in 2003 after Boone's home run my roommate - an artist, of all things - didn't speak to me for about a week and then she did she slammed her fists on the table and screamed "Why did you make me like the Red Sox? Why is this happening to me?"

Things just continued in 2004, with the Varitek-ARod brawl game, the Jeter-diving-on-his-face game (sat in the front row of the bleachers at Yankees Stadium), and others. Went to the 19-8 game courtesy of Gabe Kapler, who did a radio segment with my brother every week when my brother was working at the Sports Hub or one of those. By the time the ALCS rolled around all the Sox (and Yankees) fans I knew were exhausted and burning the candle at both ends, but it was exhilarating all the same. Sports are so weird - I remember almost stepping outside myself and thinking of things like the Nika riots and Aztec ball games and how now this weird sport with a wooden stick and a ball could do this to all of us. I was stumbling through work; fortunately I was working at a law firm where the boss was a die-hard Mets fan and he was living vicariously through me ("you must be tired"). Out late drinking and enjoying the moment, but the moment went on for days.

By Game 6 I was really tired and wired. Went to Hairy Monk with just a couple friends, kept it simple, it was like when it's New Year's but you went out the night before and you're trying to make an effort but you just can't manage it. Right after Slappy and the riot police I turned to my friends and said "I have to go" and left without explaining why. I lived in Brooklyn but too a cab, which I never did in those days. Of course the cab driver had the game on but I sort of zoned out through the top of the ninth, and got home just in time to see the third out and go right to bed. Easy peasy.

I stayed home by myself and watched Game 7 alone. It was glorious.
 

Comfortably Lomb

Koko the Monkey
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Feb 22, 2004
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The Paris of the 80s
It’s hard to remember experiencing the slap play in the moment. Was that the most stressful 2 minutes of our entire life before they called him out?
There was some real "they're going to find a way to try to tell me it's OK to rip the ball out of the fielder's glove because it's the Yankees" vibes for a few minutes. I remember. The Jeffrey Maier blown call was still looming large in those days too.
 

Margo McCready

New Member
Dec 23, 2008
264
It’s hard to remember experiencing the slap play in the moment. Was that the most stressful 2 minutes of our entire life before they called him out?
For me it was jumping up out of my seat laughing in disbelief while simultaneously boiling over with grief, “So THAT’S how it happens this year. SO THAT’S HOW IT HAPPENS THIS YEAR.”
 

reggiecleveland

sublime
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The preview for Game 6 included Schilling.
I think that was Mientkiewicz .
Schilling wasn't in it.
Well lets hope for prodigal son Damon in game 7 interview.

Once on Twitter a guy disagreed with a Keith Foulke tweet about high school baseball and I replied "If you have a problem with Keith Foulke you have a problem with me." The guy was perplexed then Foulke just wrote 'Sox fan's never forget.' as a reply.
 

Oil Can Dan

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I was more outraged, paranoid and desperate during the umpires discussion around Bellhorns HR than I was the Slappy McBlueLips play. The ball clearly hits the guy/lady in black’s belly but the blind-assed ump calls it off the wall?? Seriously??

Still can’t believe they got both calls right. They saved me decades of disgruntledness.
 

Miniman

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May 4, 2019
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I was in a bad place during the games. I had just gotten a new job, but no money, my housemate had just moved out, could barely afford to keep my rental house. Fortunately the place I was working had access to a TV, so I went over there, alone, to watch the games. The exhibit shop I worked in was attached to a gym, so I ended up watching while sitting on a stationary bike. Then the tears while calling my Dad, then my brother, after the win.
 

Al Zarilla

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View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kbe5j9esEm4

They got Damon for this game. It is stark difference to hear him talk about hitting compared to Manny and Ortiz.
I forgot the Yankees had guys on base when Embree ended it.
Damon said he didn’t smile even after his second home run because of what had happened in 2003. He crossed home plate grim faced after both HR. I felt the same way. It was still way too early to celebrate. I kind of felt the same way until the bottom of the ninth. Maybe I’ve seen more Sox collapses than any of us. LOL.
 

jmcc5400

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Damon said he didn’t smile even after his second home run because of what had happened in 2003. He crossed home plate grim faced after both HR. I felt the same way. It was still way too early to celebrate. I kind of felt the same way until the bottom of the ninth. Maybe I’ve seen more Sox collapses than any of us. LOL.
I mean, the most Red Sox thing ever would have been to lose the World Series or, more poetically, blow the World Series after taking a 3-0 lead over the Cardinals. Red Sox fans were incapable of relaxing in 2004. That was one of the gifts that team gave us.
 

Al Zarilla

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San Andreas Fault
I mean, the most Red Sox thing ever would have been to lose the World Series or, more poetically, blow the World Series after taking a 3-0 lead over the Cardinals. Red Sox fans were incapable of relaxing in 2004. That was one of the gifts that team gave us.
I was at the bank the morning of WS game 4. The teller knew me a bit and my Red Sox fandom. He said “you’ve got it made now. I said “I don’t know, Derek Lowe is starting and he was shaky during the regular season and may be due for an off game. Then it would be Wakefield, who’s been unpredictable. And, the Red Sox just came back from down 3-0 games.” Then, I said yes it does look good, thanks.
 

The Talented Allen Ripley

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20 years ago tonight, Charlie Brown kicked that damn football right back into Lucy's stupid fat face.

You'd think that span of time would have provided the opportunity to become more philosophical about the meaning of sport and the role it plays in our lives, how it creates and strengthens relationships, how it shows us how to handle adversity and always put our best foot forward, win or lose. And I suppose I've taken advantage of that and learned from it and become, dare I say, more mature in the process.

And on the occasions when I think back about the 2004 ALCS and my heart practically soars from my chest, almost as if I have to clutch the air in front of me before it flies away, I realize that it wouldn't have meant nearly as much to me if I hadn't suffered all those existential losses beforehand. With this understanding comes wisdom.

But then I think about how awesome it was that it took place against the Yankees, how the tables were finally turned, how they and their fans must have felt like Clark Kent getting his ass kicked in the diner in Superman II, seeing their own blood for the first time and so shocked by the unprecedented pain that they cried, not even knowing what this salty fluid spilling from their eyes and running down their cheeks even was. "What strange new horror is this? The lights... too bright. I can't feel my extremities... DOES NOT COMPUTE."

And I kick back with a smile, lacing my hands behind my head, and as I picture the football slamming into Lucy's unsuspecting face, my smile evolves into a deep and well-earned laugh.

So no, twenty years has not matured me as much I sometimes think it has.
 

DennyDoyle'sBoil

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The two Papi HRs that are talked about less were so huge. The one in the 8th in game 5 when it seemed like they were just kind of going to go out meekly, and the one to grab back momentum after the out at the plate in game 7. What an incredible player.
 

cantor44

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View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kbe5j9esEm4

They got Damon for this game. It is stark difference to hear him talk about hitting compared to Manny and Ortiz.
I forgot the Yankees had guys on base when Embree ended it.
I'm surprised this episode doesn't even touch on Pedro coming in and letting up runs, and Bellhorn's subsequent reassuring home run clanging off the pole.
edit: though mind you - I find this incredibly pleasing! Loving them!
 

BaseballJones

slappy happy
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Oct 1, 2015
27,700
The two Papi HRs that are talked about less were so huge. The one in the 8th in game 5 when it seemed like they were just kind of going to go out meekly, and the one to grab back momentum after the out at the plate in game 7. What an incredible player.
Ortiz in that ALCS: 31 ab, 6 r, 12 h, 1 3b, 3 hr, 11 rbi, .387/.457/.741/1.199
 

reggiecleveland

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These interviews makes me think had Ortiz not played with Manny he would never have been as great, def not in 2004. So many of his discussions begin with something Manny told him. I appreciate those two even more after listening to these interviews. I expect Ortiz and Manny gave similar insight in "4 Days in October" but ESPN found it snappier to have Ortiz just say "I was ready for that pitch."
 

lexrageorge

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Jul 31, 2007
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A footnote to the game that featured The Walk, The Steal, The Single and The Papi Home Run was the fact that Curtis Leskanic closed out his career striking out Miguel Cairo with Posada on 2nd to end the the 12th, earning his final MLB win.

I was on a business trip in Hoboken for Game 6 and Stamford for Game 7. Kind of fun watching the games in the hotel lounge areas. There were a number of anti-Yankee fans in the NJ hotel.

As per B-Ref, Yankees had a 82% chance of winning Game 4 when Rivera was warming up to start the 9th. That probability doesn't take into account it was Mariano Fucking Rivera, but if you consider the remaining 3 games coin flips, it meant the Sox had roughly a 2% chance of winning the ALCS at that point in time. The Patriots chances of beating the Falcons in the Super Bowl LI got as low as 1%, which probably matches the Sox chances of winning the World Series (assuming a 50/50 split between Sox and Cardinals)

I've seen it brought up in some media quotes about why neither the Yankees nor the Cardinals ever bunted on Schilling. Some possible explanation, spoilered below:

Sox vs Yankees, Game 6:

First point to note is that the Yankees did not bunt very much, as it did not make much sense for them to do so. Only Jeter and #9 hitter Miguel Cairo had more than 10 sacrifice hits that season. The rest of the lineup included A-Rod, Sheffield, Matsui, Williams, Posada, Sierra, and Clark - guys that should never bunt (and didn't).

Jeter started the game swinging at Schilling's first pitch. Perfectly defensible - nobody knew how Schilling was going to fare that night on his surgically repaired ankle. So being aggressive made sense, and Jeter flew out.

Cairo came up in the 3rd, when it was obvious Schilling had command of his pitches. In Game 1, Schilling threw 58 pitches in 3 innings. By the time Cairo came up in the 3rd, Schilling had thrown 32 pitches, 21 for strikes. It was already 2 outs in the 3rd, and the chances were non-zero that Schilling's repair would not hold up that long. Turned out Cairo doubled. With 2 outs and a runner on 2nd, Jeter was in no position to bunt. Jeter flew out instead.

Next time Cairo came up, there was again 2 outs, and he grounded weakly to short to end the inning. Jeter led off the 6th. It's a bit surprising he didn't try to bunt himself on to possibly start a rally, as the Yankees were down 4-0 by that point. At the same time, giving up an out would be costly. It was an interesting at bat, as Schilling threw 3 straight balls. Jeter took all the way to go 3-1, and then fouled off the next pitch, setting up a ground ball that retired Jeter.

Bronson Arroyo was pitching the next time Cairo came to bat.

As for the Cardinals, much like the Sox and Yankees, the Cardinals regular lineup did not bunt very much. In Game 2, only Renteria, Womack, and, to a lesser extent, Mike Matheny were threats to bunt for a hit. Renteria led off, got 2 quick strikes, and finally grounded out after a 2 pitch at bat. Womack came up in the 2nd with 1 on and 2 out (not a bunting situation), and singled anyway. Matheny thankfully lined out and Mueller smartly doubled off Reggie Sanders to end the inning. That was a huge play, fwiw.

Renteria came up with 1 out in the 3rd, with the Cardinals trailing 2-0. A bit surprised they didn't have Renteria bunt. At the same time, he was a year removed from putting up a 0.874 OPS and 130 OPS+, and was outstanding in the NLDS, and didn't bunt all that much that season. He grounded out. Womack came up in the 4th with 2 out and 1 on, again not a bunting situation. And the Cardinals had just scored a run, so definitely not a situation to take the bat of his hands. He grounded out.

Matheny started the 5th, and stroked the first pitch for a single. Renteria could have bunted, but the Sox had scored 2 more runs to expand their lead to 4-1. Renteria grounded into a costly double play instead. By the time Womack batted again, Embree was in the game.