WHAT A FUCKING NIGHT
I could write for hours about last night, but I'll keep it short. I'm a rabid, psychotic sports fan. Last night's Game 7 was the biggest game I've ever been to. And I've been to every World Series game since 96. The setting was surreal. Perfect night. With my best friends and my friends from work. It was basically a section of Major League Baseball Productions employees in the left field bleachers, along with some random other folk. And for 7 innings, it was pure hell. I alternated between screaming lunatic and quietly horrified prayer. Then comes the 8th, and by some grace of something, Grady Little is the manager of the Sox. Enough said. When Posada tied the game, Ive never heard the crowd louder, and I've been at enough important games where that's a pretty amazing fact.
Poor Aaron Boone. Great guy, I've interviewed him and hung out with him, and I cant imagine how distraught the guy has been during the playoffs. He's been downright awful. Non factor, relegated to the bench in the biggest game of the milennium. Flashback to the day we traded for him. I told my buddy at work that he was clutch and would come up with a big hit somewhere down the line. He scoffed at me, and was rubbing it in lately. With good reason. Flash forward to the 10th inning last night. Boonie was in the hole, coming up after Giambi, and I just felt it. "BOONIE'S GONNA HIT A WALKOFF, KIDS!", I yelled. People laughed at me. With good reason. Wakefield gets out of the 10th, and Mo gets out of the top of the 11th. Between innings, I get up on my bleacher seat and psychotically scream, "BELIEVE IT, FOLKS, BOONIE'S WALKING OFF RIGHT NOW!!!"...one pitch later, the whole left field bleachers are literally piling on me. I hugged more people than I've hugged in my entire life. The best part was knowing that Boonie's finally a Yankee and the weight of the world is off his shoulders. Oh, and the fact that coward bitch motherfucking cocksucking punk Pedro is going home. Right on.
Poor Aaron Boone. Great guy, I've interviewed him and hung out with him, and I cant imagine how distraught the guy has been during the playoffs. He's been downright awful. Non factor, relegated to the bench in the biggest game of the milennium. Flashback to the day we traded for him. I told my buddy at work that he was clutch and would come up with a big hit somewhere down the line. He scoffed at me, and was rubbing it in lately. With good reason. Flash forward to the 10th inning last night. Boonie was in the hole, coming up after Giambi, and I just felt it. "BOONIE'S GONNA HIT A WALKOFF, KIDS!", I yelled. People laughed at me. With good reason. Wakefield gets out of the 10th, and Mo gets out of the top of the 11th. Between innings, I get up on my bleacher seat and psychotically scream, "BELIEVE IT, FOLKS, BOONIE'S WALKING OFF RIGHT NOW!!!"...one pitch later, the whole left field bleachers are literally piling on me. I hugged more people than I've hugged in my entire life. The best part was knowing that Boonie's finally a Yankee and the weight of the world is off his shoulders. Oh, and the fact that coward bitch motherfucking cocksucking punk Pedro is going home. Right on.