Last Sunday morning the Sox were one game away from the one of the biggest chokes in baseball history, now it's the Yankees who are one game away from choking. But this is no time to gloat, I've been here before. The Sox have a unique ability to tear your heart apart only to suck you back in, and then let you down. Wednesday night is game 7, and I've been here before.
Regardless of what happens then, I'll always remember game 6 for the performance Curt Schilling gave. For him to even play showed guts. To go seven full innings and pitch so effectively was incredible. The man has heart.
An email I received Tuesday morning:
All Boston sports teams are like women:
The Patriots are like the hot girl from the gym that you're hooking up with;
she's awesome, but almost too good to be true, so you worry.
The Bruins are like the girl that you just casually dated in College and you
don't really care about; she's just something to do when you're drunk and
lonely.
The Celtics are like your girlfriend since high school that was great at one
time but has lost its spark. And you always kinda look back and think about
how great it was.
And the Sox are like the teases you meet at a bar; they come up to you, talk
to you all night and ask you to go home with them; then you're hooking up in
her bed and she says it just doesn't feel right, she made a mistake, and she wants
you to go home.
I hope this time she asks me to stay.