Goose Bumps

Life is scattered with unforgettable moments, experiences you appreciate as they’re happening because you know you’re part of something special. I imagine watching your wife give birth to your first child falls under that category (also falls under the “holy shit, how is that possible?” category). Kissing the bride in front of your friends and family (especially when it’s your bride), walking across the stage to receive your college diploma, and attending a Rage Against The Machine concert also bring similar feelings.

Sports have a similar place in each person’s history of unforgettable events. Any Boston fan born after 1969 can tell you where he/she was when Carlton Fisk waived his home run fair in 1975. Any American older than six in 1980 will always remember the Miracle On Ice. For younger fans, no Texas fan (or USC hater) will forget watching Vince Young dethrone the heavily favored Trojans for the BCS National Championship. And since I’m still avoiding all sports as part of Lent(see I Quit), thought I’d write about my past experiences while I continue to recover from last weekend’s sickening defeat. I’m sure any Giants “fan” will agree Sunday’s improbable victory ranks as one of their top-3 moments.

Side note: At my staff meeting on Wednesday during our “kudos” session (I live on the hippy west coast, remember), one of my coworkers gave kudos to another coworker for hosting a great Super Bowl party. Without thinking, I replied by saying, “I don’t want to talk about it.” I need to find a Boston support group here in San Francisco.

February 3, 2002
Super Bowl XXXVI

I found myself holding my breath the entire second half as my Patriots
continued to lead the heavily favored Rams. Then, faster than you could
say Az Akim, the other shoe finally dropped as the Rams tied the game
w/ less than two minutes to go. Admittedly, I was in denial. The air
had finally been let out of our balloon, and the better team was on the
verge of victory. Or was it? What happened next defied all odds (kinda
like the most recent Super Bowl). Tom Brady proceeded to march his team
down the field, the Rams defense being picked away like a week-old
scab. And when Adam Vinatieri split the uprights (always nice to kick
in a dome), my roommate and I began dancing around the living room in a
way only Rocky and Apollo Creed could understand. The moment was a
culmination of the honeymoon ride that began in the Snow Bowl, coupled
w/ an incredible halftime show (before nipples were acceptable) and the
still-fresh patriotism (no pun intended) felt by our nation. It was one
of the greatest nights of my legendary senior year of college. Then
again, isn't everyone's senior year legendary in their eyes? If you
disagree, take out some loans and go get another four-year education. And bring condoms.

April 27, 2003
Celtics/Pacers, First Round of NBA Playoffs (Game 4)

With the Pacers leading 48-36 at halftime, it appeared the Celtics were in danger of letting Indiana tie the series at 2-2. And then it happened—someone reminded Paul Pierce he’s the greatest scorer in Celtics history. After spending much of the first half deferring to his teammates, the Truth came out more aggressive and sank his first few shots, awakening the home crowd and fans all over the country. The exclamation point came with seconds left in the third quarter. Pierce, dribbling behind the arc as time wound down, stared down his taller defender (Al Harrington). Thanks to NBC cameras, everyone watching at home could read his lips as he said, “I hope you’re ready, ‘cause I’m ready to bring it.” He then rose up and drilled a three at the buzzer, giving him 21 points for the quarter. The small crowd watching with me in the AmeriCorps dorm lounge in Sacramento went nuts. In just 12 minutes of play, Pierce transformed these casual sports fans into a fevered (peaceful) mob, and reminded me why I live and die with Boston sports, even when I’m on the other side of the country. And in case you were wondering, Pierce finished with 37 points, including his 21 in the third quarter (new Celtics record). His postseason play helped a much weaker Celtics team overcome the talented Pacers and move on to the second round. Indiana coach Isiah Thomas contributed, as well, laying the groundwork for his futile career as an NBA coach and general manager.

October 18, 2004
Red Sox/Yankees, ALCS (Game 5)

You knew Boston’s championship season would make the list, didn’t you? Still floating after the previous night’s dramatic win in the face of elimination, a hint of hope had crept into my thought process. Living in DC, I struggled to find a group of loyal Sox fans. It didn’t help that none of my roommates were sports fans. So that Monday night, I went to my friend Taresa’s place to watch the game w/ her and her sports fanatic boyfriend Gregg (now husband). He’s a Mets fan, she’s a Phillies fan, but they both found themselves rooting for the Sox, as did everyone else in her small living room that night.

Down two heading into the eighth inning, the sinking feeling only Sox fans can understand began to return. Then David Ortiz led off the inning w/ a home run, igniting the crowd that had been desperate for a spark. As he did the night before, Kevin Millar drew a walk and was replaced by pinch-runner Dave Roberts. After moving to third on a Trot Nixon single, Roberts scored on Jason Varitek’s sacrifice fly, marking the second time in less than 24 hours the supposedly untouchable Mariano Rivera blew a save. The result was extra innings for the second consecutive day, and another long night for baseball fans. Each team threatened during the extra frames, but the score remained the same until Ortiz came up with two runners on and two outs. On the 10^th pitch of his at-bat, he fisted a bloop single just past the infield, allowing Johnny Damon to come speeding around to score the Sox’s second walk-off run in as many nights. If Fenway Park was a dome, the roof would’ve blown off as thousands of fans witnessed another piece of the dream season. As we cheered loudly in Taresa’s living room that night, Gregg, lost in the moment, got in my face and yelled, “I don’t know how you Sox fans do it every night! I thought I was gonna have a heart attack and I’m a Mets fan!”

Since that season, I’ve met dozens of people from all over the country who also got swept up in the fever that October. Most now consider the Sox their second favorite team because of what they endured—they were a part of that team, as was all of Red Sox Nation. In fact, I imagine many non-Sox fans would include at least one game from that season in their goose bumps list. And isn’t the possibility of witnessing the unforgettable on any given day the best thing about sports? That and cheerleaders, of course.