Almost

September 18th, 1993. I've just turned 18, and I've been at college in Nebraska for less than a month. I'm on the phone with my parents back in Connecticut on a Saturday afternoon. One of my Yankee fan friends is visiting my parents. They're all watching the Red Sox-Yankees game, giving me updates. It's the ninth inning. My mom is announcing what sounds like the final out. The Red Sox have won--or have they? I hear my friend in the background happily yelling. I hear my dad UNhappily yelling. The final out is negated as time had been called when some Yankee fan ran on the field just before the pitch. The ambidextrous Greg Harris then gives up a few hits, and the Yanks win the game in the classy way only they know how to. Story more...