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Sports Moments Through Your Eyes


raysox

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Cool thread, Raysox. I'll get into some of the many things I've seen over my 51 years later. I just wanted to toss this in with regard to "night 162" or "game 162" or whatever we're calling the greatest day/night of regular season baseball ever. Being the baseball freak that I am, I have MLB Extra Innings and MLB.tv. That night, I had two TVs and two computers going as everything unfolded. No ESPN or updates. I got to see those games play out on four different screens. It was awesome. I can't imagine baseball ever topping that night.

 

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I was stunned. I couldn't believe it. I was in a state of shock over the next few days.

It was one of the most surreal moments in my life. I honestly could not believe it.

This almost perfectly describes how it felt to watch the San Francisco Giants finally win a World Series. I NEVER thought I'd ever see them win it. When Edgar Renteria hit the go ahead bomb in the 7th that sealed the deal for them I sat there in stunned silence. This came as a bit of a shocker to everyone I was with because I went absolutely bonkers when they beat Philly. Think three year old girl at Disneyland for the first time running into Minne Mouse, it was that much. My friends and family who were all with me thought they were going to have to rush me to the hospital because I was dead silent and didn't move a muscle for about an hour after that. It was a combination of being scared s**tless of them blowing it after what happened in 2002, and having my celebration circuits completely blown to the point where I couldn't even cheer any longer, but mostly I knew that this was going to be the biggest moment of my sports watching life to that point, and I absolutely didn't want to waste it running around the room screaming like a nut case. I just wanted to drink it all in and remember every second of it. And the way that they did it as underdogs getting into the post season on the final day, getting some luck vs Atlanta, and then getting past two superior teams is still hard for me to wrap my head around. How in the hell did that 2010 San Francisco Giants team win the World Series? Cody Ross? Edgar Renteria? Bruce freaking Bochy? If it was a movie script it'd get rejected for the absurdity of it all. I remember being at the World Series parade a few days after and nearly everyone I encountered had this really confused and dumbfounded, yet strangely euphoric look on their faces. It was as if every fan had just went from living paycheck to paycheck and had just won the lottery. It was such a pleasantly strange feeling. I still watch the final few outs of that series and the fan reaction videos and I can't help but get the biggest smile on my face, yet still have no idea how they pulled it off.

Watching your team win a lot of titles has got to be an awesome feeling. But seeing that very first one is unfathomably special. Having those feelings that I had during that post season run and watching the Giants win their first World Series in San Francisco history is something I know I'll never get to experience again, but that's what makes it so special.

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On 11/19/2012 at 7:23 PM, oldschoolvikings said:
She’s still half convinced “Chris Creamer” is a porn site.)
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I am the Media Relations Assistant for the Jackson Generals (Seattle's AA club), so this was today's perfect game through my eyes (and my camera).

This was during BP today. If you see #45, that is Moises Hernandez, Felix's older brother.

That is pretty darn cool.

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"I secretly hope people like that hydroplane into a wall." - Dennis "Big Sexy" Ittner

POTD - 7/3/14

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It was Vancouver 2010, and the spotlight was on Canada. After tepid showings in Montréal in '76 and Calgary in '88, Canada was expected to own the podium. There were Canadian medal favourites in many events, but none had the kind of pressure on them like the men's hockey team did. This was our game on our soil with the world watching. Canada could not lose this. Screw silver or bronze - anything but gold would be an absolute disaster for Canada, even worse than the 7th place finish in Torino in '06. To add even more pressure, winning gold in his even would give Canada the record for most gold medals even won in a single Winter Olympics (14).

Now Canada was the favourite for gold, viewed by both fans and media alike. I was confident that they'd win it all myself. However, things started out rough (finishing 2nd in the group after losing to the States and barely beating the Swiss) and I started to have my doubts. I began to imagine the embarrassment and disappointment for Canada that might happen. Anyways, the team made easy work out of Germany and slaughtered the Russians, which gave me more hope and confidence. I was excited as Canada clinched a berth in the final by beating Slovakia, but was a bit worried, since the US beat a darn good Finnish team 6-1. Losing gold would suck terribly. Losing gold to the US though...oh God.

Still though, with an entire country behind them, I figured Canada would do well. Yet again though, this was an American team that beat us earlier and was undefeated against some pretty good competition. Canada got out to a 2-0 lead in the gold medal game, and while I didn't want to get too excited, i knew in the back of my mind that things were looking mighty good. Later in the game though, the States made it a 1-goal game, but time was ticking down and they needed to do something fast. Then the time came with about a minute and a half left where the US pulled their goalie. This would make the last bit the hardest, kind of like a boss level. All Canada had to do was dump a small chunk of vulcanized rubber down around 175 feet of ice into a 4 foot opening to secure the victory. Easy, no? Time was ticking down...40 seconds...30...c'mon boys...this is how it will end. 2-1 Canada at home; Corey Perry with the game-winner. Canadian glo-

No. No. Nonononononono. NO. NONONO! NO! This can't be happening. Why? Why why why? It wasn't supposed to be this way! Canada is supposed to win at home! This is our game! :censored: . :censored: ing :censored: . What the hell, hockey gods? Seriously? :censored: .

Hey, but if Canada wins, it'll be more dramatic, right? Right?

I was incredibly nervous during overtime. Canada wins, and we have a new national hero. Canada loses, and we as a country collectively hang our heads in shame. Every shot felt like it could go in, and I remember screaming at my TV when Crosby missed a beautiful scoring chance (a breakaway?) during overtime.

Crosby, you tool! You're the best player in the freaking work and you miss that? What the hell Sid?!?!

Of course, when he scored that goal - not on a breakaway, or after a fancy deke, but from sliding the puck just through miller's five-hole, everyone went wild. I jumped up and hugged the person sitting next to me and I started screaming. Finally, the dream had come true. He had a hero in Crosby, no excuses, no regrets, and no scapegoats (Luongo should thank God that Crosby scored that goal).

[/a bunch of boring crap you probably didn't bother to read]

Long Story Short: Canada headed into the Vancouver 2010 men's hockey gold medal game with a lot of pressure, and they delivered. Oh, and I was pissed when Parise tied it. B)

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Nobody cares about your humungous-big signature. 

PotD: 29/1/12

 

 

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This is mine. This is the first time I've gone all out and left every detail so I'm sorry if it's tl;dr

First two weeks of June 2011

June 1st. Game 1 of the SCF

The time had come, the opportunity I had been dreaming about as a child had come true. My Vancouver Canucks have finally made it back to the Final. At the Hanley Residence my Dad shocked me with an Authentic Pavel Bure jersey as an early B-day present that i could wear during the final. it was me, my dad, his coworker and one of his best friends who was a boston sports fan by heart so he had to go for the B's. The game was a solid goaltending duel from start to finish. At the 2:00 mark of the 3rd period we all started making our overtime predictions. Dad called Henrik, Friend called Bieksa, Boston fan picked Recchi, I called Torres with a strange gut feeling about him in this game, and with 18.5 seconds left, he delivered and the 3 of us simultaneously screamed our asses off in happiness, while our Boston fan just laughed and took it pretty well, he was mainly a red sox fan so he didn't really get too mad about the b's losing

June 2nd

I was on a school bus coming back from a shakespeare play with my drama class when I get a call from my step dad who lives in massachusetts and knows how much I love hockey and the Canucks. "I got em! I :censored:ing got em! Connor expect a random guy at your house in about an hour! Holy :censored: I can't even believe it, I called up one of my friends in Vancouver and sent him 1000 bucks to find you tickets and he came through! Connor, You're going to game 2 of the Stanley Cup :censored:in' Finals! I didn't believe it until the guy actually showed up at my house with the envelope, and inside: 2 tickets to game 2 of the Stanley Cup Finals! I was in pure shock, my step dad threw down a grand of his hard earned money just so me and my biological dad could experience a once in a lifetime opportunity. It was by far the most generous thing anyone has ever done for me and I am forever grateful for it.

June 4th

My dad and I wake up, throw on our uniforms and wait as the clock ticks to 3:30 (thats when our bus left) when we got off the bus I was immediately overwhelmed by the amazing downtown atmosphere, we walked to the arena with the roaring vancouver crowd gathering outside of the CBC building and Rogers Arena. When we sat down in our seats during the warmup that's when it sank in, we were in for a great day of hockey. Burrows opened the scoring and holy :censored: balls the crowd completely erupted with cheers, it sent shivers down my spine when the horn stopped and the "Holiday" Drum into began. The crowd was totally into this game ...until the midway mark of the 2nd period when the bruins answered with 2 quick goals, after that you could hear a mouse fart in the building. Chance after chance after chance after great save by Lou after another goddamn chance we just could beat Tim Thomas. It felt like a goddamn eternity before Daniel tied it with about 9 to go, but man when he did. That crowd exploded with "YEEEAAAAHHHHH's" people next to me we're hugging me out of excitement my dad was damn near in tears from how he couldn't control his emotions. The 3rd period horn went and we all just breathed the biggest sigh of relief right there. Our section began making predictions, a

Few people picked Daniel, A couple of people along with me picked lapierre and my dad picked burrows. Right off the face off I knew it was now or it was gonna be a triple overtime marathon and sure enough Alex Burrows got a break away, got Thomas out of position, fought off that big Slovakian son of a bitch Chara and slipped it across the crease. I don't think I have ever screamed that loud in my life, I screamed louder than a 12 year old girl seeing Justin Bieber, The Jonas Brothers, Miley Cyrus and One Direction all start jamming together live from front row. And that's an understatement from how euphoric that moment was for me and my lifelong Canuck fan father. It seemed like it was our destiny.

June 6th and 8th, 2011 are like Highlander 2 to me. It never happened...

June 10th

2-2 series tied with the huge 5th game on this day. It was looking more and more possible that an if necessary 7th Game would be at home on my 17th birthday and I was regretting saying every word about wanting it to happen because all I wanted was to just get this series over with and the cup won. Game 5 was the most intense game

5 I have ever seen from any two teams in any playoff series ever. Another spectacular goaltending duel with the good guys coming out on top off a goal by lapierre. When the clock hit 0 I saw my dad reacting much like he did in game 2. Totally overwhelmed at the thought of this actually happening. Later that night he came into my room with a bottle. It was an unopened bottle of scotch from 1968

(dad's birth year). My dad told me that my Grandad (his dad) gave it to him on his 25th birthday saying "this is for a very special occasion, if Celtic (a soccer team from Scotland our family has supported forever) ever wins the champions league, or when your Canucks team (he didn't know anything about hockey, he never cared for it) wins the Cup, you can celebrate it with this" my dad told me that if the Canucks win game 6 or 7, we would open it and drink the 42/43 year old scotch in celebration.

June 13th

I turned off my phone for this game, nothing was going to peel me away from my tv that day. Except after the 1st period of game 6. 4-0 after 1. In the 3rd, the canucks struck early and almost cut the lead in half, but it was just a couple inches short. After that it was all but over. Game 7 was going to happen.

June 15

My 17th Birthday, I tried to treat it like any normal day but nothing could get my mind off of 5:00. During my 3rd block (drama) we were told that we had to do our final performance that day and it would probably go on till 4:30pm. I was 11/10 pissed but I had 91% in that class anyway so I could fail regardless. Early during the play 3:45 mark, i was done all my lines but I wasn't allowed to leave unless it was a medical emergency. With that said, I was willing to do what ever it too to gtfo of there. I asked my friend to punch me as hard as he could in the nose to make it bleed. Needless to say, it bled, a lot. And I was allowed to leave. A 15 minute sprint home and I made it just in time for the pre game coverage. My dad and I sat down knowing that we were about to witness either the best, or worst feelings in the world by 8:00. First 10 minutes were insane end-to-end hockey with both sides looking strong, and then Patrice Bergeron stuck a fork in our hearts and drained us of all enthusiasm and energy we had going into it. Dead silence, 4 road goals, none for the home team. When Marchand ripped it past Bieksa and into the empty net I felt so empty and depressed. The final minute, 30, seconds, 15 seconds, 5, and just like that white jerseys poured onto the ice, tossing the gloves in the air in jubilation. Ryan Keslers reaction is the perfect example of what I looked like after that final horn. After Chara's hat fell off when he lifted the cup, my dad shut off the tv and took me to Tim Hortons to try and ease the pain. When we got back and turned on the tv we saw all hell breaking loose in downtown, my dads reaction? "it's all happening again, just like '94. You always asked me when you were a kid, "what was it like watching te nucks lose game 7 to the Hun Rangers?" well, now you know, this is exactly how it felt." Neither of us spoke for the rest of the night. It was the saddest and most depressing birthday in my short life.

June 16th

We all got out of school early due to it being the last day of the school year, me, and a Couple of my friends, all in Canucks jerseys (one of whom wore his bruins winter classic jersey) and we all watched and even helped a bit clean up the destruction from the night before.

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I remember celebrating after the Orioles beat the red sox in game 162. I was rooting so hard for a Sox collapse, especially after 2004 left a bitter taste on my mouth. When the rays walked off, the Yankee fan in me was kinda sad because the Yankees lost, but it didn't sting because they already won the AL East, and the Sox hater in me celebrated.

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I was at Miller Park for game 162 in 2008. There was an electric buzz throughout the building, and also a tension you could cut with a butter knife. It was against the rival Cubs so there were a bunch of fans of the North Side team there taunting all us fans, telling us the Brewers were going to choke yadda yadda. CC was on the mound that day and the Cubs jumped out to a 1-0 lead in the 2nd inning. As the game started moving along the nerves were firing on all cylinders, then in the 7th the Brewers were able to scratch a run across to tie it up, a little relief came about the place, and most notably myself, the fourth beer during the game didn't hurt either. Things had calmed down a little. Then we get to the bottom of the 8th, runner on, just gotta get him home and let CC cruise the rest of the way. Ryan Braun comes up, at the time I am with family and friends in the smoking lounge and we are all glued to the tvs in there. For some reason #8 has a nack for getting 2 strikes in the count before he really goes to work fouling off pitches and the like, so every pitch in that at bat seemed like an eternity. Then boom, get up, get up, get outta here....Brewers up 3-1, CC cruises the rest of the way, double play to end the game, place goes nuts, but the day wasn't over, either the Brewers had a one game play-off in NY or they were heading to Philly. The video department then put on the Florida/New York game on the then big screen in the ballpark. Watching the last few scruciating outs from Shea. Can't remember who the guy from the Mets was, maybe David Wright hit a bomb to right field, looked like it might be gone, but the outfielder from the Marlins, camped out under it, made the catch, and the entire place erupted, I was hugging family, friends, high fiving strangers, tears are coming down my face, and pyro is going off, confetti and streamers falling from the rafters. The team flooded the field champagne being sprayed all over the place, Miller Lites drank by the players, pouring them over the heads. Just pure joy, something I thought I'd never see, let alone witness live and in person. After the excitement wore off, I broke down and cried I was so happy, I called my father and just said they did it, and I was there. A memory that will live on with me forever.

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I was at David Cone's perfect game in 99. It was Yogi Berra day. Seeing as I was about 10 when I was at the game I do not remember all that much about it. I do remember who I was with and the general area of where our seats were. The game itself I kind of remember being boring almost, again I was 10 and I wanted to see runs and hits. I didn't really grasp what I was watch - or what I had been a part of until years later. But every time I see the highlights I can always say "I was there".

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I was at Game 2 of the Blackhawks first round series against the Predators. It was like nothing I've ever been to. And I've been to a lot of Hawks games over the years. The atmosphere in there was the most amazing thing.

But I have two moments in the 2010 postseason that stick out the most, first, Game 5 of the first round, "The Hossa Game", I was at my house watching the game, the Blackhawks blew a pretty good lead and the game was full of ups and downs. After the Blackhawks lost that lead, and having my parents painting part of our living room during the game, I let superstition get the best of me and I left the room to find a new tv. OT started and this happened

It was the most excited I had ever gotten watching a hockey game. It was at that moment, I also realized, the Blackhawks were winning the Stanley Cup. There was no way it wasn't happening. which brings me to my next moment,

June 9. 2012, Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup. I was at a Buffalo Wild Wings watching the game with friends. I remember that night so vividly. I've only ever had the Bears to root for in a championship game, and they blew that. I specifically remember some D-Bag walk into the place wearing a Philadelphia Eagles hat, we figured he'd be trouble, and he was the ONLY one in the whole place cheering for anything Philly did.

After regulation, everyone I was with was so nervous. I remember my legs shaking so hard, and it was like that the whole overtime. I'm sure some of you remember Kane's goal that night. There was mass confusion in the place, as soon as we saw Kane shoot and start jumping the place erupted. But no one on the ice besides a few Hawks were celebrating and it got quiet again... No one knew what to do... then we heard the commentator saw "it's in!!! It's in the back of the net!" and the place erupted again, a friend of mine ran around the entire place and high fived everyone, except the Philly fan, he didn't participate in the happiness. The next few days, nothing could bother me, I was in a great mood.

Plus, I got to go to the parade. If you ever get the chance to go to a championship parade, do it. especially one with 2 million people in attendance.

 

 

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I was stunned. I couldn't believe it. I was in a state of shock over the next few days.

It was one of the most surreal moments in my life. I honestly could not believe it.

This almost perfectly describes how it felt to watch the San Francisco Giants finally win a World Series. I NEVER thought I'd ever see them win it. When Edgar Renteria hit the go ahead bomb in the 7th that sealed the deal for them I sat there in stunned silence. This came as a bit of a shocker to everyone I was with because I went absolutely bonkers when they beat Philly. Think three year old girl at Disneyland for the first time running into Minne Mouse, it was that much. My friends and family who were all with me thought they were going to have to rush me to the hospital because I was dead silent and didn't move a muscle for about an hour after that. It was a combination of being scared s**tless of them blowing it after what happened in 2002, and having my celebration circuits completely blown to the point where I couldn't even cheer any longer, but mostly I knew that this was going to be the biggest moment of my sports watching life to that point, and I absolutely didn't want to waste it running around the room screaming like a nut case. I just wanted to drink it all in and remember every second of it. And the way that they did it as underdogs getting into the post season on the final day, getting some luck vs Atlanta, and then getting past two superior teams is still hard for me to wrap my head around. How in the hell did that 2010 San Francisco Giants team win the World Series? Cody Ross? Edgar Renteria? Bruce freaking Bochy? If it was a movie script it'd get rejected for the absurdity of it all. I remember being at the World Series parade a few days after and nearly everyone I encountered had this really confused and dumbfounded, yet strangely euphoric look on their faces. It was as if every fan had just went from living paycheck to paycheck and had just won the lottery. It was such a pleasantly strange feeling. I still watch the final few outs of that series and the fan reaction videos and I can't help but get the biggest smile on my face, yet still have no idea how they pulled it off.

Watching your team win a lot of titles has got to be an awesome feeling. But seeing that very first one is unfathomably special. Having those feelings that I had during that post season run and watching the Giants win their first World Series in San Francisco history is something I know I'll never get to experience again, but that's what makes it so special.

Yeah. I had that feeling too after the Red Sox won in 2004. Admittedly, I was 9 and didn't know quite how to quantify it that way, but I just remember a state of (for lack of a better term) shock-bliss.

I also agree entirely with the first sentence of your last paragraph. After the Bruins won the Cup in 2011, that feeling of ecstasy will never be matched even if they go on to win ten in a row.

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While the Game Six I described earlier was exciting, I just remembered two of my top favorite games I've been to, and they both came in the same series...

I was there for this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8G-EosTPE6U

I remember the guy behind me shouting "END THIS S**T!" right before it happened. It was a day game, and the rest of the day I was so happy. I had never seen the penguins win a series in person before (or since), not only that, but we were going to the conference finals.

I was also there a week earlier for the first ever whiteout at Mellon Arena. Nothing compares to that game...

The novelty of the Whiteout. The comeback from being down 3-0. The roar after the Penguins' second goal.

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Many look at Michael Jordan's '98 Finals push-off shot and glorify it is one of the greatest moments in sports history. I look at it as the lowest, most depressing point of my Jazz fandom.

I was six, Summer was cookin' up in the southeastern Utah desert, and even though we were a long, long ways away from Salt Lake City, my little town had just as much a case of Jazz fever as they did. The little Sno-Shak on Main Street sold "Jazz Cones" - a swirl cone of blue raspberry and grape to mimic the team's colors at the time - and I remember seemingly everyone in that town of 2,000 or so wearing some form of Jazz apparel. I fondly remember my Grandpa donning his Jazz trucker cap on game days. The feeling from everyone was that there was no way we could lose a second series to Chicago, a basically "this is our time" belief. Because it was so rampant across town, I remember thinking, even as young as I was, that a Jazz title was all but certain.

Then came game flippin' 6.

I could type out some massive detailed account of the game, but 1) everyone knows how it went down; there are probably villagers in Laos who know how it went down, and 2) it all really boils down to how I felt afterwards; which could be best described as having been stung. I mean, it hurt to put that much belief in a team and watch another team that's already been priveleged enough to enjoy this five times get to do this a flippin' sixth. When you've lived in a po-dunk, by-passed desert town all your life (to that point), and your basketball team is the po-dunk of the league they're in and they have a shot to win a title, that's ALOT of hope built up. Then to watch Goliath kill your David after all that....it sucks. It's one of the very few sports moments that still hurts like a gash to this day, especially having seen the Jazz shrink to less-than-a-shell of what they used to be. I've got alot of hope for the Jazz's future, but I don't think we'll ever field a team as good as the 96-98 teams again, especially where in this day and age, the big markets pile up and no one wants to touch the Jazz with a 20-ft pole. To think those years may have been the best shot we'll ever get at a ring, and we had to run into Michael Flippin' Jordan twice in a row. The hard life of a devout Jazz fan.

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The opinions I express are mine, and mine only. If I am to express them, it is not to say you or anyone else is wrong, and certainly not to say that I am right.

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  • 4 weeks later...

My Dad was a Yankees fan, and I became one because he had me watch "Pride of the Yankees".

We got to enjoy the 1977 season and World Series, after a very disappointing 1976 sweep by the Reds. Earlier in 1976 my father's mother (my paternal grandmother) had died.

Often, when the Yankees were trailing in a game, he would always say to me "Don't worry yourself, the 7th inning is the Yankees inning, they'll come back!"

Saturday, July 15, 1978, my father, having just arrived home from the hospital a few days prior, suddenly dropped dead right in front of my eyes from a massive M.I. I was 11 at the time, and our team the Yankees were 11 and a half games out of first.

The day my father was buried, the Yankees seemed buried too, 14 games out of first.

Lo and behold, after game 162, they and the Red Sox tied for first. I was home alone, having gotten home from school, and an important game like this was actually played IN THE DAYTIME, not at 12:30 in the blessed a.m. "primetime". Yankees were trailing 2-0 going into, you guessed it, the 7th inning. Mr. Dent hit the home run to put the Yankees up, and I remember sobbing my eyes out. I not only knew that the Yankees were going to win this game, but go all the way. I remember my Dad saying "Don't worry the 7th inning is their inning." I remember knowing without a doubt that was THE moment that I KNEW...I absolutely KNEW that my Dad made it home into the Kingdom of God's Heaven. 34 years later, and I still weep whenever I flash back to this time in my life. I never got the chance to thank Bucky Dent personally, which saddens me, but thankful I am. Ironically enough, it would be another 18 years before I saw the Yankees win another World Series.

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