At the moment, only one thought is going through my mind: No matter what, I will never feel like this again.
The Yankees will win more championships, but there’s nothing like the first time you’re really old enough to appreciate it, and the first time you get to watch it with the same people you have watched with the entire season.
There were seven of us tonight–Amanda, Ben, Joe, Mark, Larry, Brent and myself–and from the get-go, you knew something was up.
The Angels long having been left in the dust, we wanted more. The ALCS alone was not enough.
Brent and I were among the first to arrive. See how clean, how prepared the bar looks? Yeah, by the fifth inning, not so much. By then you could sense it.
A very blurry Ben and Larry.
If you ever get a chance to go to a bar and watch a game with Larry, I highly, highly recommend it. He is an optimist prime!
Brent and Mark.
I have it on good authority that those wings are very, very good. I can’t eat anything fried so I’ve got no idea, but Blondie’s has amazing soft pretzels, so I gorged on them. Actually, by the fifth inning I was so distracted by the game and OHMIGOD CHRIS MELONI that I wasn’t hungry at all.
Brent is gettin’ jiggy wit it!
If you’re an astute observer, you’ll notice who the baserunner is–it kind of sums up everything.
We can sense it. Us and our pitchers of Brooklyn and Miller Lite–so many that we get one on the house–we can sense it.
Mark wanted proof he was here. Ergo, proof he was here.
Celebrating someone doing something in front of a CBS camera man. I can’t really remember what it was, except that after Matsui’s double we all jumped up and started chanting MVP! MVP! and really, at that point, there was no doubt.
Oh, and, GUESS WHO WAS IN THE BAR WATCHING THE GAME?!?
CHRIS MELONI THAT’S WHO!
They handed these signs out towards the end
I’ve also got videos:
1) That girl playing air guitar and generally making an ass of herself? Yeah?
That’s me.
2) The final out. We kind of went crazy. If you can’t tell.
3) New York, New York, one more time:
It was after this last song that tragedy struck:
I’ve had my camera for three years. In those three years I have without fail remembered to use the wrist strap when doing stupid things. Without fail.
Except last night.
While celebrating, one of us who shall remain nameless, knocked the camera out of my hand and it hit the table and then landed on the open lens on the floor.
Had the camera been off, or had it landed on the backside, it would have been fine.
Alas, such was not the case.
Meh.
BUT DUDE. MELONI! MATSUI! TWENTY SEVEN WORLD TITLES!
The best part?
Being able to experience it with friends that have been there every step of the way.