"Top Three" Yankees/Red Sox Gameday Memories

"Top Three" Yankees / Red Sox Gameday Memories

With the opening series against the Red Sox last week, I was reminded of the years of fun I had living through the trauma that is the Yankees/Red Sox rivalry. Having grown up in New York, and having gone to college in Massachusetts, I have seen both the good and the bad sides of being a Yankees fan. And these are my top three moments:

3) Yankees vs. Red Sox, September 2, 2001

If any of you remember this game, you remember one thing. One pitch. Mussina was one pitch away. No-no's are so notorious that I can remember thinking to myself, while seated in Fenway's bleacher section, "Don't think about it, you'll jinx him!"

As previously noted, I attended school in the Massachusetts area, and became very close with a phenomenal group of friends who I still talk to today. Even though they are all die-hard Red Sox fans. They had been trying for years to convert me (still are in fact) and invited me to go with them to a few games in 2001 (including Opening Day at Fenway, which was on April 1st, so I made a t-shirt that stated that I was the #1 Red Sox fan). Little did they know that inviting me to this Yankees/Sox game would be so instantly memorable.

My friends and I were having a blast that day, enjoying the good weather and a great defensive baseball game. I remember as Moose was sitting in the dugout all by himself, in the 7th inning when everyone was avoiding him like the plague, I first realized that there was a no-no on the
line. I couldn't say anything to anyone, because I am not the only one who is supersticious. I once spent 4 innings of a baseball game in the bathroom of a hotel room because I swore it helped the Yankees (see #2 for that story).

So my friends and I spend two more innings in tortured silence. Finally, when the 9th inning came along, you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Fenway was insane with Red Sox fans screaming for someone to break up the no-no (but not my friends...). When Carl Everett came up to the plate, I thought this was too easy. Then he hit a freaking bloop line drive that ruined Mussina's perfect game. Moose still finished the game like the champ he was, but the no-no was no more.

Even though there was the letdown of the not so perfect game, I was still happy. After all, the Yankees still beat the Red Sox.

2) Red Sox vs. Yankees, October 16, 2003 (ALCS Game 7)

I was travelling to Fort Worth, TX for work the week of the ALCS. As my luck would have it, my senior collegue that I was travelling with was a huge, obnoxious Red Sox fan and was determined to ruin my week. Watching the games with him at different bars that week in the land of excess
(everything is bigger in Texas) was torture. Every hit or run by the Sox would elicit a "HA, YOU SUCK!" from him, which just drove me batty. We were planning on flying out Friday morning, the 17th of October from the DFW airport, so we decided to stay at a hotel closer to the airport
to avoid the morning traffic the night before. He told me that I better pray that the Red Sox won that night or I'd have to get my own ride to the airport, cause he was going to, and I quote, "leave my stinking Yankees loving ass" at the hotel.

After a week of hell with this guy, I make an executive decision. I told him that I just couldn't take watching another game with him, especially one as important as Game 7 of the ALCS. So I was going to opt to watch the game alone, in my hotel room.

Phone calls and emails were rampant during the game, calling my dad in NY, emailing my Red Sox friends, it was all a blur. What I really remember is going to the bathroom in the 8th inning, and coming out to see we had tied the game. From that moment on, I spent the rest of the
game standing in the bathroom doorway, convinced that if I did, the Yankees would somehow know this, and win.

With the crack of the bat, the 11th inning became history. Aaron Boone was our hero. And I could emerge from the bathroom a happy girl. While I am not a naturally spiteful or provoking fan, I wrote my first and only "Eat Sh*t" email to all of my Red Sox friends that night after the game. I chalk it up to having stood in the bathroom for over an hour. But honestly, I still read it now and then, just to relive the feeling I felt that night.

And to answer the question, true to his word, he tried to leave without me. Thank goodness I was camped by the front door of the hotel waiting for him.

1) Red Sox vs. Yankees, July 19-21, 2002

My aforementioned Massachusetts friends and I decided to spend a weekend in NY to attend the two games on the 19th and the 20th at the Stadium. Lucky for me, one of the MA guys went to school with a Yankees fan friend who lived in NY who was going to join us (so I wasn't the only
Yankees fan with 7 Red Sox fans). We went to my parent's place on Long Island and took the train into the city (and for those of you who didn't grow up in NY, the city is Manhattan) to meet "Yankees Friend" and had a great afternoon just futzing around.

That night there was a horrendous rain storm, delaying the game for almost two hours. Well, we weren't that upset, they were still selling beer in the concourse. When the game did get underway, Pedro vs. Moose, it was tons of fun sitting high up in right field screaming our heads
off. "Yankees Friend" and I hit it off immediately and I was thrilled to have an ally. Unfortunately, the Yankees lost 4-2 that day. I still blame it on the rain delay. Moose was better than that.

After the game, we ran to catch the subway to get to Penn to catch the train home. I didn't realize until it was too late that we had caught the booby prize of late night trains...the "transfer in Jamaica" train. When did I notice this? About 30 seconds before the doors closed at
Jamaica. So we all run to the other platform where the train is waiting and get on. Then we notice. We're not all there. There's one missing.

So now I freak out because I'm the only one from NY who knows the LIRR system and what the lines/stops are. I see the missing friend on the opposing train, whose doors have closed, banging on the door with his fists like a kid. Then the impossible happens. I hear dinging, his door
opens, and he runs over to us and gets on our train, which was seconds from departing. As we're pulling away I ask him how he got someone's attention to get them to open the doors. He answered "oh, I didn't, I just pulled the emergency cord!" Yeah, that's right, he probably caused
that train to be stuck there for an hour while they researched who pulled the cord.

I won't go into more details about the personal stories for the weekend but will reference a few key moments: one friend dropping her wallet on the LIRR tracks and another jumping down to get it, one friend not putting enough sunscreen on his face and burning two horn-looking areas
on his forehead, a night of drinking that concluded in a Sox fan getting his picture taken with a Yankees hat on his head and my favorite, me being called "Mom" all weekend because I kept checking to make sure we were all present and accounted for.

Saturday's game was in the blazing heat, and we were roasting in the upper decks. Thank god that game went to extra innings. Heatstroke was abundant amongst the crowd, but it wasn't all for naught, the Yankees won it in 11. I do remember my Yankees nemesis, Mendoza, giving up runs in the top of the 8th, making me want to wait for him after the game with a steel pipe.

I had tickets for Sunday's game, but only for me and one friend. I don't remember half of that game, after the marathon game in the heat the day before and the exhaustion that had set in. I do remember having absolutely no voice because I screamed louder during the last two games
than I had in forever. Oh yeah, and I remember the Yankees coming back to score two in the 9th to win the game. It's funny what you remember. I like to think that it shows my loyalty as a fan.

Man, I'm exhausted now. Just remembering that weekend zaps all my energy. But hot damn, it was one of the best times I've had in a long time.