Growing up in the ‘70s, without a “home” team, the conversations were always Reds or Dodgers. I chose the Dodgers, mostly because they were my Dad’s favorite team. During my formative years watching baseball I had the back-to-back heartache of the ‘77 and ‘78 Series losses to the Yankees, and then the redemption of 1981. My Dad grew up watching the Dodgers lose to the Yankees in the ‘40s and early ‘50s before they finally found “next year”. I got the then-modern version of three Series in five years. I loved baseball from the time I could throw a ball, and that five year span cinched it as my all-time favorite sport.
In all the years since, adding up to almost fifty World Series watched, I’ve seen some great games. Of course Gibson’s walk-off home run in ‘88 (also game one) is at the top of the list for best finishes, but Joe Carter’s walk-off in ‘93, the 18 inning marathon in 2018, and of course the Cubs’ comeback win in 2016 were just as good, if not better games. All of that said, I’m not sure I’ve ever been as excited, anxious, or stressed watching a baseball game, and that ending was special.
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