WilltheThrill
Well-Known Member
I had actually gone to every home playoffs game that year, all the way through the World Series. I am lifelong close friends with Jackie Moore, who was their bench coach at the time. So he would hook me up with a ticket for every game. I enjoyed that whole ride like no other time in sports in my life. I almost felt a part of that team with the number of times I hung out with them after games in the players’ family lounge. Elvis even knew me by name. So it wasn’t just 35 years of fandom at that point that I had riding on it… it was even something a little more. I got offered a chance to fly to Game 6, but I had pneumonia and a 104 degree fever. So while I couldn’t make the trip, I selfishly ventured out into the public and went to a local sports bar that was packed to the doors with people watching every pitch. I wanted to be there with my fellow fans to celebrate. I felt like complete crap and was sweating from head to toe, but I savored every last pitch. And the entire bar was in a complete deafening roar when Freese stepped up to face Feliz. And then the most cruel fate struck not once but twice. I was beyond sick. The whole bar went completely silent for like 5 seconds. Then there was a mix of angry yelling and some people even crying. I drove home that night honestly wondering if I could ever watch a sporting event again. My girlfriend volunteered to come over and watch Game 7 with me, but I just couldn’t. Like you, I knew what the outcome was going to be. And I just couldn’t take watching another heartbreak that bad again. She took me out to eat and I could hear people getting angry watching the tv in the bar. I knew. I saw the final score on my phone and had to take a long offseason break from even hearing the word “baseball”.I remember everything about it. Everything. Every single emotion. I'd just watched the Mavs win a title, grew up with Cowboy dominance, and was at the Rose Bowl when VY scored on 4th down to win it all (I'm a Texas alum).
But when Josh Hamilton put us up in extra innings AFTER the Freese tying hit, I'd never been more excited, or more sure of something. We were going to win. I knew it. I just knew it.
When we were a strike away, again, and still couldn't finish, game 7 loss just felt inevitable.
I've never really recovered I guess.