I was living in Houston at the time (came so close in 2003 to getting to see the Sox play in the WS, as Houston also made it to game 7), so game 5 started at 4pm local time. I worked through the first few innings, and didn't even crack a beer until like the 7th inning, but that damn game went on so long I was pretty drunk by the time it was over.The physical and mental anguish caused by those games can't be adequately explained. I was at the three Fenway games and the tension combined with the length of games 4 and 5 was something that would probably kill my now 50 year old heart. I live in the seacoast area of NH but was working in Lowell at the time. In the top of the 12th I was having a serious conversation with my seat neighbors weighing the idea of going directly to work and sleeping in the parking lot especially since I'd be cutting out of work for game 5 since it was the early game. The group around me at game 5 was dragging ass before it started and agreeing that having the early game was perfect because we'd be able to get some sleep. Of course that game then goes on to end after the NLCS game that started three hours after the Sox.
Yeah. Explode to an 8-1 in the 4th, feelings of euphoria tempered with the realization that we have half a game left to go. An eternity. Still 8-1 in the 7th, just wanting quick outs. Let's end this! Then Pedro, and it's clear he's not going to dominate them. Then 8-3... If the aggregate of '46, '49, '67, '75, '78, '86, '03 taught us anything, it was that an ever more agonizing defeat could (likely would?) always happen. History wasn't defeated, until it was....Gotta admit, I started to sweat a little bit.
Got two words for you: Curt Leskanic.For as much as game 4 turned the tide, game 5 was the more epic game, and the one where we had more chances to lose.
The only game I could watch with anyone else was game 7 - with my father who was having spinal surgery that was likely to leave him paraylzed (with 'dead' a distinct possibility). I just about joined him in a bed when Damon hit the grannie...I took my father to game 3. He is the reason why I'm a fan, and he hadn't been to a Sox playoff game since Game 7 of the 1967 World Series. As we rode the T after that 19-8 drubbing, he told me that it seemed likely that the Sox would never win a title in his lifetime (he was 57 at the time). And he asked me to place a pennant on his grave, *if* they ever won in *my* lifetime. It was the most morbid conversation I've ever had, and yet I suspect there were many similar conversations that occurred that night.
I called him, in tears, from the upper deck of Yankee Stadium after game 7.
That week was the absolute pinnacle of sports fandom.
Agree about Game 5. It was excruciatingly tense. My wife scored tickets to see Tears For Fears perform on Jimmy Kimmel that night (her favorite band, and she had to pull a lot of strings to get the tickets) so we went down to a bar at Hollywood and Highland WAY before the taping so we could just walk across the street after the game. As the time to line up drew closer she kept looking at the clock, looking at me, looking at the clock and finally said "you're not going to Jimmy Kimmel with me are you".Got two words for you: Curt Leskanic.
That is very cool. Not jealous at all.Each Christmas, my wife gives me a custom calendar featuring Pixel (our cat) photos and important dates, birthdays and anniversaries. This run of October dates brings me unbridled joy.
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Game 7 is proof that God is a cardiologistHonestly. Two 5-hour marathon extra inning elimination games, followed by a game 6 where we're all sitting there praying that our pitcher's foot doesn't fall off.
I mean, I guess Game 7 was a laugher (kinda), so maybe the whole series only gets a 9.97 on the ultimate drama scorecard...
I've mentioned this before in threads years ago. In real time that ball is by Mariano like a slap shot a goalie picks up at the last millisecond before it goes by him and into the netting, but if you slow the video down, he comes closer to making the "glove save" (missing, then sprawling) than Jeter does to getting the tag down on Roberts. It's chilling - you'll never see this play the same way if you run it frame by frame - just another moment of "everything going right that had to go right" for them to pull it off.Watching Mueller's drive make Mariano Rivera look like Charlie Brown always brings a smile to my face.
I know McCarver did games 6 and 7. Did he do game 5. I think he did because he questioned Torre having Jeter bunt instead of hit in a key inning. I know he did game 6 because on the replay of Slappy hitting the ball out of Arroyo's hand you can hear him say......No, No that's interference.Few things stand out watching that 9th-
Always forget Leiter was with Buck and not McCarver.
The size of Roberts’ lead. Massive.
Genius move by Tito to waste one strike by Mueller
showing bunt, to set up an ambush on the next pitch. He got a cookie because Rivera wanted the bunt down, as he likely knew he could deal with Eyechart. Just incredible strategy.
I know McCarver did games 6 and 7. Did he do game 5. I think he did because he questioned Torre having Jeter bunt instead of hit in a key inning. I know he did game 6 because on the replay of Slappy hitting the ball out of Arroyo's hand you can hear him say......No, No that's interference.
He was there at the end of game 4 for Ortiz' homer too, and who can forget game 5, "He didn't do it again, did he?"I know McCarver did games 6 and 7. Did he do game 5. I think he did because he questioned Torre having Jeter bunt instead of hit in a key inning. I know he did game 6 because on the replay of Slappy hitting the ball out of Arroyo's hand you can hear him say......No, No that's interference.
Is that you Kevin Millar?After winning Game 4 I looked at who we had pitching and felt we had a real shot to get to Game 7 where basically anything can happen.
Twice. Yep.I still believe replay was unofficially used in game 6
I remember that's what I kept telling myself - as I floated between work, college, and a relationship. That I could sleep in a couple of weeks, but not now."We'll sleep in November..."
I remember thinking this as well. In hindsight, rainout after game 2 was critical. I thought Sox would have an advantage going on what would be 5 days in a row.After winning Game 4 I looked at who we had pitching and felt we had a real shot to get to Game 7 where basically anything can happen. about
I still believe replay was unofficially used in game 6
Don't think so. It's been a while since I watched a replay, but didn't the 6 umps just huddle together for a few minutes each time and then come out with the decisions (without any electronic or other input)?Twice. Yep.
There were no ear pieces, but how the LF ump (Joyce) missed the Bellhorn homer and others had it... I dunno.Don't think so. It's been a while since I watched a replay, but didn't the 6 umps just huddle together for a few minutes each time and then come out with the decisions (without any electronic or other input)?
That, and Yankee fans throwing trash on the field until Bob Sheppard had to (unsuccessfully) beg them to stop, and the field had to be surrounded by riot police - I can't believe anyone ever took any of them seriously after that.Edit: I'm sure I've written this before on SoSH, but double fuck Joe Torre for sticking his finger in the ump's face after the A-Rod slap play. That is truly embarrassing and pathetic.
He and Rick Sutcliffe did the commentary for the international TV feed. I remember buying a DRM'd copy of one of these games from MLB (maybe via iTunes?) and was surprised it didn't have the FOX audio.Coincidentally, Dave O'Brien -- who was still a few years from doing Sox games -- was doing ESPN radio (maybe international?) that often shows up behind videos.
Fox did broadcast the ALCS and World Series in 720p that year. HD was in its infancy and BluRay players did not yet exist, so the only video sold was the DVD box set (in 4:3 and in Low Def). It bugs me that when highlights are shown now, the Low Def video is what they use. Sometimes the DVD watermark is visible, on a FOX or ESPN broadcast, no less!I wish there was an HD feed of these games.
David Laurilla did a great interview with Derek Lowe where exactly that issue came up.Derek Lowe's performance on 2 days rest in game 7 will still go down as one of the most underrated performances in the history of the sport. It's amazing how rarely its discussed by anyone outside of Boston.
6 innings of 1-hit ball. TWO DAYS REST.
Heroic.
DL: Did pitching on two days of rest help your sinker?
Lowe: I don’t believe in that. I would much rather pitch at full strength. You still need your legs under you, and you still need your arm in the right arm slot. If you get too tired, your ball doesn’t move anymore. I promise you. They should do that on the show Myth Busters, because it’s not true.
Absolutely. Him and Mickey Lolich are the two examples. That’s about it.Derek Lowe's performance on 2 days rest in game 7 will still go down as one of the most underrated performances in the history of the sport. It's amazing how rarely its discussed by anyone outside of Boston.
6 innings of 1-hit ball. TWO DAYS REST.
Heroic.
I moved from NH to Jersey City in Aug 2004 and watched Games 6 and 7 at The Riv in NYC. Taking the PATH home and slowly realizing the train was full of MFY fans staggering back from the Toilet was among the most satisfying feelings of my life. There was nary a sound in that car, everyone was staring straight down, not making eye contact with anyone, let alone me with my Sox cap and feet not touching the floor. I was scared for a few moments that there might be trouble, but there was no life in any of them. They were zombies.I was on a business trip, so I watched Game 6 from a hotel lobby bar in New Jersey, and Game 7 in southern Connecticut. The reactions of the patrons was interesting, to say the least.
This is an awesome story - thank you for sharing. I love the notes - your son will never, ever forget that. Amazing.That series.
I was a young intern working overnight shifts in the ICU during Games 1-3. Sick and dying patients every night. I was running scared. Interns in the ICU are terrified. I tried to check in occasionally but really couldn't follow the games at all.
Game 4 - I was post call, so, sleep deprived and cranky. Still, I turned on the game and stayed there, barely moving for the duration. I was happy but really too tired to celebrate Ortiz's game winner.
My young son and I had developed a tradition late that season. He would go to bed with the game still on but I would write him a note about what happened and leave it for him while he ate breakfast before school the following morning. I was usually in the hospital long before he would get up - so these notes were our way of discussing the game. I left him a note after Game 4 explaining about Millar's walk, Dave Robert's steal, Mueller's drive and how the Sox had come back against Mo. Ortiz was the hero.
Game 5...back on call in the ICU. About midway through the game an elderly man was admitted to our service. He had a Yankees shirt on. He was admitted for heart failure. We, of course, began talking baseball and the series. He was a huge baseball fan and had an encyclopedic knowledge of the game and the history of baseball. He was a consummate gentleman and we bonded instantly. My shift ended about the 7th inning with the Sox down 4-2. I said goodnight to my patient and he wished me the same stating, "Those Sox will win someday. Hang in there." I drove home and turned on the game...I remember the disconsolate walk to my car as the fall chill settled all around me. I didn't even turn on the radio - I was too sad. When I got home and turned the game on I heard the crowd roaring before the picture came on and I knew something good had happened. Ortiz (of course) hit a HR to tighten things up. I sank into my chair (fatigue be damned) and endured ( I think that's really the right word) the most excruciating 2 hours of my sporting (fandom) life. 14th inning. Ortiz again. Sox walk off again. Writing down the night's recap for my boy was amazing. No celebrating on our field!
Game 6. The weirdest game I have ever seen. Still can't believe all those (correct) calls went our way. My elderly patient had the game on in his room. He asked if I would watch with him. I chuckled and said, "I think I'm gonna be a little busy tonight, but I'll check in from time to time." He said he hoped I would get some down-time and thanked me for taking good care of him. I told you he was a gentleman. I checked in after evening rounds about the 2nd inning. He bade me pull up a chair and watch for a while. He said I looked tired (this octogenarian in florid heart failure thought I needed a rest!) and told me to take a "half-inning off". I did. This may be unfamiliar to folks who haven't worked in an intensive care unit but the work is endless. Critically ill patients everywhere you look. More coming in, crashing, dying. It's an intense 36 hour shift and there is usually no time to eat, pee, or (hah!)sleep. I swear this is true: I sat there and watched the ENTIRE game without a single call, page, admission, alarming monitor, abnormal lab value, crashing patient....nothing for 3+ hours. Unheard of. When the game was over, I left quietly. My patient had nodded off in the later innings. Note tucked into lunchbox that day...Game 7 was coming and it was anybody's series now.
Game 7: Off. Watching with my wife and son...cheering the early inning heroics and sweating out Pedro's inning. REDEMPTION!! FINALLY!! Went to check on my patient...but got a bad feeling when his room was cleaned out - generally an ominous sign in the ICU. Well, it was a season for miracles. He had improved and been discharged out of the ICU and was getting ready to go home.
A brief coda: A few weeks later, I received a package at the hospital. My patient's son was a student at Harvard. He had asked him to buy me a World Series Championship T-shirt as a thank you. He wrote me a wonderful note. I'll keep that to myself - but I still have it.
A few days ago on the 15th anniversary, my son- now grown - sent me a text with screenshots of my postgame notes to him. Pretty cool.
Unbelievably cool post. Thanks for sharingThat series.
I was a young intern working overnight shifts in the ICU during Games 1-3. Sick and dying patients every night. I was running scared. Interns in the ICU are terrified. I tried to check in occasionally but really couldn't follow the games at all.
Game 4 - I was post call, so, sleep deprived and cranky. Still, I turned on the game and stayed there, barely moving for the duration. I was happy but really too tired to celebrate Ortiz's game winner.
My young son and I had developed a tradition late that season. He would go to bed with the game still on but I would write him a note about what happened and leave it for him while he ate breakfast before school the following morning. I was usually in the hospital long before he would get up - so these notes were our way of discussing the game. I left him a note after Game 4 explaining about Millar's walk, Dave Robert's steal, Mueller's drive and how the Sox had come back against Mo. Ortiz was the hero.
Game 5...back on call in the ICU. About midway through the game an elderly man was admitted to our service. He had a Yankees shirt on. He was admitted for heart failure. We, of course, began talking baseball and the series. He was a huge baseball fan and had an encyclopedic knowledge of the game and the history of baseball. He was a consummate gentleman and we bonded instantly. My shift ended about the 7th inning with the Sox down 4-2. I said goodnight to my patient and he wished me the same stating, "Those Sox will win someday. Hang in there." I drove home and turned on the game...I remember the disconsolate walk to my car as the fall chill settled all around me. I didn't even turn on the radio - I was too sad. When I got home and turned the game on I heard the crowd roaring before the picture came on and I knew something good had happened. Ortiz (of course) hit a HR to tighten things up. I sank into my chair (fatigue be damned) and endured ( I think that's really the right word) the most excruciating 2 hours of my sporting (fandom) life. 14th inning. Ortiz again. Sox walk off again. Writing down the night's recap for my boy was amazing. No celebrating on our field!
Game 6. The weirdest game I have ever seen. Still can't believe all those (correct) calls went our way. My elderly patient had the game on in his room. He asked if I would watch with him. I chuckled and said, "I think I'm gonna be a little busy tonight, but I'll check in from time to time." He said he hoped I would get some down-time and thanked me for taking good care of him. I told you he was a gentleman. I checked in after evening rounds about the 2nd inning. He bade me pull up a chair and watch for a while. He said I looked tired (this octogenarian in florid heart failure thought I needed a rest!) and told me to take a "half-inning off". I did. This may be unfamiliar to folks who haven't worked in an intensive care unit but the work is endless. Critically ill patients everywhere you look. More coming in, crashing, dying. It's an intense 36 hour shift and there is usually no time to eat, pee, or (hah!)sleep. I swear this is true: I sat there and watched the ENTIRE game without a single call, page, admission, alarming monitor, abnormal lab value, crashing patient....nothing for 3+ hours. Unheard of. When the game was over, I left quietly. My patient had nodded off in the later innings. Note tucked into lunchbox that day...Game 7 was coming and it was anybody's series now.
Game 7: Off. Watching with my wife and son...cheering the early inning heroics and sweating out Pedro's inning. REDEMPTION!! FINALLY!! Went to check on my patient...but got a bad feeling when his room was cleaned out - generally an ominous sign in the ICU. Well, it was a season for miracles. He had improved and been discharged out of the ICU and was getting ready to go home.
A brief coda: A few weeks later, I received a package at the hospital. My patient's son was a student at Harvard. He had asked him to buy me a World Series Championship T-shirt as a thank you. He wrote me a wonderful note. I'll keep that to myself - but I still have it.
A few days ago on the 15th anniversary, my son- now grown - sent me a text with screenshots of my postgame notes to him. Pretty cool.
I love the story about your son and the notes. That’s amazing stuff.That series.
I was a young intern working overnight shifts in the ICU during Games 1-3. Sick and dying patients every night. I was running scared. Interns in the ICU are terrified. I tried to check in occasionally but really couldn't follow the games at all.
Game 4 - I was post call, so, sleep deprived and cranky. Still, I turned on the game and stayed there, barely moving for the duration. I was happy but really too tired to celebrate Ortiz's game winner.
My young son and I had developed a tradition late that season. He would go to bed with the game still on but I would write him a note about what happened and leave it for him while he ate breakfast before school the following morning. I was usually in the hospital long before he would get up - so these notes were our way of discussing the game. I left him a note after Game 4 explaining about Millar's walk, Dave Robert's steal, Mueller's drive and how the Sox had come back against Mo. Ortiz was the hero.
Game 5...back on call in the ICU. About midway through the game an elderly man was admitted to our service. He had a Yankees shirt on. He was admitted for heart failure. We, of course, began talking baseball and the series. He was a huge baseball fan and had an encyclopedic knowledge of the game and the history of baseball. He was a consummate gentleman and we bonded instantly. My shift ended about the 7th inning with the Sox down 4-2. I said goodnight to my patient and he wished me the same stating, "Those Sox will win someday. Hang in there." I drove home and turned on the game...I remember the disconsolate walk to my car as the fall chill settled all around me. I didn't even turn on the radio - I was too sad. When I got home and turned the game on I heard the crowd roaring before the picture came on and I knew something good had happened. Ortiz (of course) hit a HR to tighten things up. I sank into my chair (fatigue be damned) and endured ( I think that's really the right word) the most excruciating 2 hours of my sporting (fandom) life. 14th inning. Ortiz again. Sox walk off again. Writing down the night's recap for my boy was amazing. No celebrating on our field!
Game 6. The weirdest game I have ever seen. Still can't believe all those (correct) calls went our way. My elderly patient had the game on in his room. He asked if I would watch with him. I chuckled and said, "I think I'm gonna be a little busy tonight, but I'll check in from time to time." He said he hoped I would get some down-time and thanked me for taking good care of him. I told you he was a gentleman. I checked in after evening rounds about the 2nd inning. He bade me pull up a chair and watch for a while. He said I looked tired (this octogenarian in florid heart failure thought I needed a rest!) and told me to take a "half-inning off". I did. This may be unfamiliar to folks who haven't worked in an intensive care unit but the work is endless. Critically ill patients everywhere you look. More coming in, crashing, dying. It's an intense 36 hour shift and there is usually no time to eat, pee, or (hah!)sleep. I swear this is true: I sat there and watched the ENTIRE game without a single call, page, admission, alarming monitor, abnormal lab value, crashing patient....nothing for 3+ hours. Unheard of. When the game was over, I left quietly. My patient had nodded off in the later innings. Note tucked into lunchbox that day...Game 7 was coming and it was anybody's series now.
Game 7: Off. Watching with my wife and son...cheering the early inning heroics and sweating out Pedro's inning. REDEMPTION!! FINALLY!! Went to check on my patient...but got a bad feeling when his room was cleaned out - generally an ominous sign in the ICU. Well, it was a season for miracles. He had improved and been discharged out of the ICU and was getting ready to go home.
A brief coda: A few weeks later, I received a package at the hospital. My patient's son was a student at Harvard. He had asked him to buy me a World Series Championship T-shirt as a thank you. He wrote me a wonderful note. I'll keep that to myself - but I still have it.
A few days ago on the 15th anniversary, my son- now grown - sent me a text with screenshots of my postgame notes to him. Pretty cool.