I cried tears of joy. I'm not afraid to admit it. Wished my dad and grandpa were both around to see this moment with me. Happiness is a wonderful thing.

Cried. Laughed. Felt more joy and happiness then any other time in my life.

I too cried, laughed, hugged my son and called my Dad. It was the greatest sports moment I have ever experienced. Never again will 1918 and the Curse mean anything to us!

I was wasted, and jumping around. No crying at the time, that came later on. Absolutely amazing.

Jumping around in disbelief...still can't comprehend it. I actually videotaped my reaction with a couple cameras because I knew it would be something special.

Group email from my friend, Dan, written several hours after it ended:


Oh my ****ing god...

Context: This last happened in 1918. Woodrow Wilson was President. My immigrant grandfather was fighting The Hun (British Army) at The Battle Of The Somme.
First Visit To Fenway: 1970. Age: 8. Tommy Harper hit one out that day.. I still have photos..
Still have a video of the COMPLETE 1975 Game Six somewhere.. Jumped up and down like a little kid when I got to meet Luis Tiant at the park last year.. My old VT. roommate Chris Fontecchio and I used to have the Fisk home run call on our answering machine..
Present at Yaz's last game. 1982?
Got drunk with Bill "Spaceman" Lee once, but lots of people can say that..

Worst week that I ever will have: 1986 - In about ten days, I broke up with a girlfriend, lost my dad, and to cap it, the ball rolled through Buckner's legs.. (I'm still standing, though.. Come on home, now, Billy Buck - All Is Forgiven! You don't have to live in Idaho if you don't want to!)

Present at 10 of the last 12 Opening Days.. Missed last year, as I had a death in the family, and it was rained out anyway, but I still didn't get to see Ray Charles singing the national anthem.. And don't that rankle a little bit now?

Present at the highest scoring divisional series game in history (1999), when the Sox demolished Cleveland 23-7. As close as I'll ever come to a fascist rally.
.
Present at the "Phantom Tag" game against NY later that series, where 20 plastic Coke bottles on the field constituted a "near riot."

Present last summer when Nomar hit 3 out on his birthday, and the crowd spontaneously started sing "Happy Birthday" during the 7th inning.

Have a ridiculous amount of memoribilia arount my apt. (people are always giving me this shit), including, but not confined to:
A signed photo of Bernie Carbo..
A "Fenway Park Staff" pullover..
A Pedro Martinez bobbing head doll.
.
Know all of the words to the following songs: "Tessie," "Bill Lee" (Warren Zevon), "The Fenway" (Jonathan Richman), "The Ballad Of Oil Can Boyd" (John Lincoln Wright).

So, yeah, this is kind of a big deal to me & my band of brothers.. Especially after rising from the dead like Dracula or Lazurus or somesuch to slam the door shut on NY..EVERYBODY will now say that they never gave up the faith, but I know much better. I didn't realistically think that they would come back vs. The Yankees anymore than I believed that Al Sharpton would be our next president, but I didn't give it up, now.. It was just "let's not get swept." Then "Let's just take it back to New York." And then, "Let's just have a 7th game." And then "I can't ****ing believe this!"

The Series was pretty much gravy - but after about 3 weeks of late night games, about 5 rock shows, lots of political detritus to absorb, and a flu that stuck around hard - I'm just grateful that it's over, so I can get some rest..

Value of pouring out of The Cellar in Central Square - high-fiving and embracing complete strangers, drinking champagne out of paper cups, posing for photos with my friend who writes for "Baseball America," milling around with excellent Irishmen, chanting "2004," and " Ding-Dong - The Witch Is Dead!," and one that I coined, "Mass-a-chu-setts Lib-er-als?"
You Have No Idea How Priceless.. d.

(p.s. - It Ain't Over Yet: When the Sox got down to six outs, I starting yelling "Six.. More.. Days.." Y'all know to do, dear hearts...)

turned up my radio to hear joe and jerry's call, opened the windows to hear everyone scream and pour out onto the streets of brighton, then popped open a bottle of champagne to celebrate.

I was in my living room crying like a baby. Those were tears of joy unlike my previous tears for the Red Sox. I called my uncle right after the final out so I could share the joy with the man who loves this team as much as I do. This is the greatest day in my life, well other then my daughter being born. I will never forget where I was when the Sox won the World Series.
Congratulations to the Boston Red Sox and to everyone on this site, you guys are the best and we are the World Champions!!!!!

I was at home watching on TV and listening to WEEI on MLB.com, I wanted to hear Joe's call.. There was a few seconds delay between the TV and the radio radio broadcast online. When Foulke tossed the ball to Millar I started jumping up and down and started to call a few of my Yankee friends to let them know that The RED SOX ARE THE WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONS since none of them were watching the series.

In my living room with my fiance.

With 2 outs to go, the phone rings. My Grandfather. Sox season ticketholder for about 50 years. Brought me to my first game at Fenway. Went to 2 of my 3 playoff games with me (my mom brought me to my first). Said he wanted to be on the phone with me for the final out.

Foulke throws to first. "I can die in peace" he says.

Hang up with him. Pop the champagne as I call my parents. Share the disbelief with them.

Hang up with them. Down the champagne with my fiance (a new convert to RSN). Dump some on my head.

I got my 6 year old out of bed - made sure he saw this one. I think he's a red sox fan for life now.....

in a praying forrmation on my living room floor with all my friends laughing at me. I have the pictures to remember it.

In front of a TV with family and friends. Lots of tears and embraces, but mostly a big smile remains on my face at this moment. I got my two boys (6&4) out of bed like my parents did in 1975.

I was home alone down here in Ft Lauderdale, quiet as a mouse as Foulke threw to first.... my phone was off because I didn't think I'd even be able to talk to anyone.....

Wishing that right now I was back in my hometown of Medway, MA to be able to soak in what all this really means not only to me, but the Red Sox Nation...

Today's theme song is going to be "Comfortably Numb" for me

In my living room with my 15 year old son and my wife. My two girls had fallen asleep. As Minky caught Foulke's underhanded toss, I stood up and grabbed my son who was standing next to me and we hugged for a very long time - and cried.

My wife then did her best Pokie Reese impression as she jumped on top of us. We then turned to watch some of the celebration on to the field. A few minutes later, my son looked at me and said, "ready dad?" I laughed and we headed outside for the ceremonial beer shampoo. Little did I know that my wife had hidden a bottle of bubbly on the deck. As I was about to dump my beer she suddenly grabbed the bottle of champagne, shook it vigorously and proceeded to spray me, the house, the deck and anything else in reach with it...then I returned the favor...three of us standing in our back yard soaken wet and laughing (and crying) our asses off.

It was perfect.

There will NEVER be another sports experience like that for me.

Not ever.

THANK YOU TO THE 2004 WORLD SERIES CHAMPION - BOSTON RED SOX!!!

Celebrating with friends at their house. A buddy made a poor attempt at hugging me and nearly broke my nose, it still hurts this morning as the alcohol wears off. We went outside howled at the eclipse, and popped the champagne. Then I called my grandparents, parents, and girlfriend. This feeling is just so unbelievable, and I'm so happy for all those old timers who never wavered in their allegiance to this team. RSN is stronger than ever.

I am sick as a dog. I had planned to get loaded with some other sox fans, but was confined to the couch, nursing a 103 fever (strep throat). There were moments when i literally thought, due to hallucinations, that i would die before they won. I called my dad who told me he still remembered bringing his dad's empty beer bottles inside the house and replacing them with full ones while he listened to game 7 of the 1946 series in his backyard on the radio. mY DAD WAS 6. I remember my dad waking me up for game 6 of the series in '75 to see Fisk's homerun. Or my dad giving up on 86 early, he went up to bed when the sox had a lead.

I don't know if it's the illness, or if I'm a sissy, but I keep crying when I see that stupid Nike commercial. I can't help but think of my Grandfather and my dad together, my dad and I together, suffering, sharing and loving one another through the years. We were bound together by this team. Now, I have a daughter, born this year, and I can't help but feel that part of my grandfather's spirit is in her.

I don't know what kind of impact this will have on the psyche of New England. It changes everything.

My whole family and I were in the air, jumping and screaming incoherantly. I fell to my knees and couldn't stop grinning and laughing. My Dad was speechless, my grandfather called to make sure we were still alive.

This hasn't really hit me yet, I'm half expecting a game 5 preview. What do we do now?

I was in chat, doing what I usually did during the game, because it was what worked with me during the ALCS. I kept in my room until the final out was made in which I went charing out of my room to be with my family. We all were overjoyed and shared a bottle of champagne. A great family experience. My mom was in tears, my dad was smiling from ear to ear, my brother was wicked pumped up and went running outside, my sister was officially baptized into Red Sox Nation, I was watching mesmorized at the sight I was seeing.

I stayed up all night watching highlights as well

Screaming with 9 or 10 of my buddies, spraying each other down with Miller Lite because the bottles of champagne we bought were screw top and not corked. At first we were pissed that we didn't think to ask for the cheapest corked champagne in the store, but we got past that and drank that Andre Brut like it was Cristal.

I jumped up and down screaming like a girl, did alot of screaming, little crying.....its all a blur. Then i poped some champaign, drank some sprayed myself with some, got some in my eyes, which made me cry some more, sprayed my dog. Hugged my dog,...i dunno its so crazy, Were the World CHampions

Schillondahill

I was out in a bar near the Theater District. I took the bus up Wednesday morning from New York in anticipation of the win and glad I did it despite missing 2 days from school. As the final out came, joy, laughter and shock overcame me. I still can't believe this. Those guys brought us home a World Series.

Screaming at the tv in a bar in Dalton, MA with a bunch of other die hards. Screaming the countdown of outs... high-fiving every strike... going completely mental when Foulke jogged over to Mient. for the toss.

Just completely mental.

I strapped on my sneakers to start the bottom of the ninth, and as soon as the last out was recorded, I bolted out of my place and went screaming down my street. It was amazing. More so because I wasn't wearing pants.

I was sitting in a London Hotel Room on the edge of my bed (5 AM Local Time). Just kind of sat there with a big grin on my face. Didn't really have the moment to share with anyone else. It was a little surreal being there isolated from other fans, but still fulfilling.

I arrived home under that crazy moon at 12:30am to a giggling message from my parents. These folks are usually asleep by 9pm. Expecting to wake them up, I called them back immediately. Both were still giggling when they answered. Not for the Sox but, for myself. At the end of my life I'll remember this giggling phone call.

Thank You, Red Sox. Thanks Mom and Dad.

I was watching this game like I was watching the lotto on tv. Each out represented a matching number on my ticket. When the last number match my ticket (the last out) I was jumping up and down at my girlfriend's house like I won a million dollars. And just to be a luny, I called up my uncle and told him I won the lottery!!! His response was....So did I! CLASSIC!!!!

As soon as Renteria hit the ball, I started jumping and my vertical leap hit an all time high once Foulke tossed the ball to Minky. I ran out of my house and ran into the street cheering very loudly, which must have seemed very bizarre to the rest of my Wisconsin neighbors, but I didn’t care.

I then called my Mom and Dad. My Mom, a BIG MFYs fan was genuinely happy for the team, the city of Boston, the fans, and her family. My Dad was in some sort of disbelief and he said, “I can finally put all that heartache behind me”.

Best Day Ever!

Was down at Clarke's in Fanieul Hall, squeezing my girlfriend's leg as she sat next to me (I couldn't sit down), she actually yelped when it was evident the ball was secured in Foulke's glove cuz i squeezed a little too hard. I've never had so many hetero-man-hugs in my life. People spraying beer in the air over the crowd, now my favorite sweatshirt is soaked but I'm not sure I'll wash it.

Spilled out into the Quincy Market area for a while, chatted with a few older couples who had been waiting nearly a whole lifetime to see what we had the pleasure of seeing. I feel the best for them.

Went home, let the girlfriend fall asleep, and went to the living room and cried my freakin eyes out.

I was in my dorm room with my girlfriend and few people who drifted in the room from the dorm. I jumped and scream and then was just speechless for a while.

Such an amazing night. Definately the best ever

I was in my living room with my wife, who watched the entire ALCS and World Series with me(which is something), I had Joe and Gerry on the radio, stupid fox on tv and RSN chat on the computer.

I was in a nervous calm type of state through the first eight innings, 9th inning I started pacing. When Foulke caught that ground ball a wierd feeling started rising, when Manky closed his glove around the ball to record the final out everything just rushed out and it was .......just unbelievable.

I was on the couch watching the game with my dad. We celebrated as soon as Foulke caught the ball.

I sat with my husband, who turned and said to me "You made it." I held his hand and said "Now, I will die happy."
There are few times in one's life one's wants, wishes, tears, laughter, disbelief, frustration, silliness, stupidity, honor, bargaining, prayers, pain, struggles, brilliance and faith can be telegraphed in one single event.

Miracles are acts for believers

I experienced it when my one and only child was born


And now these men of faith, hope and love have done something miraculous..

Bless you all the days of your lives

After the second out in the ninth, I remembered what it was like in '86 at that same stage of the game and I thought, "This time it is different. Mientkiewicz is not Buckner. This team will get it done." Then the comebacker to Foulke, his jog toward first, the underhand toss to the surehanded Minky, and I leapt off the sofa screaming--not merely shouting but literally screaming--for joy for about 30 seconds.

Then I let the reality of it all wash over me, and I thought about the journey as a fan that I began on Opening Day 1967 (at the park with a little over 8,000 other frozen idiots) and had finally completed.

This is the promised land. The milk and honey are sweeter than I could ever have imagined.

Thank you all, every last member of this gallant team, the 2004 Boston Red Sox. Their names will forever more be linked with the possibility of great achievement against insuperable odds. What a great and glorious day!

I made it down to Jillian's, one of the last people to get in before they closed the doors at gametime. My three friends and I tried playing pool, but that didn't last long.

The night goes on, and late in the game I called my mother, who has since moved to Tennessee, and told her I was going to call with two out in the bottom of the 9th. Sure enough, after Edmonds went down, I called her up, and after a few seconds of idle chat, my mother asks, "Are you going to stay on the line the whole time," getting ready to say something witty, but only managing a loud YES! as Foulke snagged the come-backer off Renteria's bat.

After some screaming, many man-hugs, a couple of deep breaths, and some last words with Mom, the four of us hit Lansdowne Street to join the mob scene, eventually working our way to the front of the Baseball Tavern on Boylston. There we stood, soaking up the scene, which was somewhat behaved, outside of the occasional female nudity and a couple of people who had to climb the lightpole on Boylston and Jersey.

After a while, we made our way back to the Simmons parking lot, dropped one of us off in Mission Hill, the rest of us back to Salem, where I didn't finally sleep until almost 5 in the morning. THAT'S where I was.

I was in my basement watching with my family. I was in complete shock that they won, even though I knew they were going to win once they had the 3-0 lead in the Series. Go Sox!!!!

I watched the first two games of the Series on TV,
but did not watch the last two--following them on my computer.
Why?
Because I had watched them lose so many of these games
over the years--I figured they had a better chance of winning
if I didn't watch.
Maybe I was right. Who knows.

I hugged about a dozen random people, then slumped down on the bar and cried when they showed a little montage. I fought it off, but couldn't resist. The bartenders just smiled at me, handed me a bottle of champagne and told me to celebrate. I'm still in shock, that was just too freakin easy.

At Boston Beer Works, feet from Fenway...I didn't cry when the game ending, we just poured onto the streets and celebrated. Woke up this morning, watched the player interviews on Fox25...then I started crying. Almost everything I read about this team today brings tears to my eyes. Damn, even writing this does.

I kept the t.v. off for a few minutes in the bottom of the ninth (old habits die hard), and then checked in with two outs to see Renteria chop the ground ball. I jumped up and down with my wife a bit, but overall the reaction was bit less than the ALCS clincher. Then my father rang the phone and we quickly hung up to hear the post game chats. I sucked it all in, and got a bit weepy after the NIKE commercial.

I then I stayed up to about 2:00 am for Baseball tonight and Sportscenter. I thought I was going run around the neighborhood screaming to recover the celebration that had been denied in 1986 but it just didn't seem to matter.

My dad was at work when the last out was recorded, but they let all the guys watch the final inning on the TV in the breakroom. He called up my mom to say how happy he was and how excited he was that his kids got to see the Sox do this while they were young. No more suffering for any of us.

I cried like a baby when Foulke caught that ball. I couldn't believe it was happening. The underhand to first and it was a reality. I cried even more when i saw Tim Wakefield hugging the trophy with tears streaming down his face. After last year, and for as long as he has been with this team, I couldn't have been happier for him. Those two images will be with me forever. The feeling i have today is unbelievable. Was I dreaming last night? No, I wasn't. The Red Sox won the World Series!!! The 7 words heard 'round the world!!!!

I hugged my 3 year old son, who I had gotten out of bed for the bottom of the 9th, and had a few tears run down my cheeks.

Sat there in shock really. No whooping or hollering. Just a couple of tears and inner peace.

Drunk @ my house--2 bottles of wine & a 6 pack of Sam Adams Pale Ale

Celebrating with friends - jumping around in absolute excitement. Still cannot believe that this has happened - will sink in soon

At a friend's house with my girlfriend. I was too nervous to watch during the bottom of the 8th, so I called my mom and had her give me the play-by-play. Then I went back inside, and screamed like never before when Foulke caught the grounder. We passed around that damned screw-top Andre.

Didn't cry, still haven't...yet.

After I took my girlfriend home, I walked by myself from Forest Hills to Hyde Square to Ruggles to Fenway to Copley. Along the way I did the Manny point to every car that honked. Several random high fives and yelps on the sidewalk. Got to Fenway just as all manner of law enforcement was leaving the area, it was a parade of blue lights. Kenmore was practically empty. I took a few pictures. Stood and watched the logo on the scoreboard reflecting on the light towers. Glorious.

I was at my house in Western NY. I had to keep prodding Mrs. Engle awake after each commercial break, but she was a trooper, determined to share the moment with me. (This is in stark contrast to Game Six in 1986, when she completely conked out and I shuffled to bed only to hear her mumble "Did they win?" I was determined not to have a similar experience this time.)

I was on the sofa, keeping score in a spiral notebook. I yelled something like "This is it!" when I saw Foulke stab at the ball, pure instinct, not realizing until he brought it down that this would really be "it." I kept wondering how it would be taken away this time. Would Foulke toss the ball over Minky's head, igniting a four-run Cardinal rally? Would he keep striding toward first, try to make a tag himself, only to have Renteria slap the ball out of his hand and dash to second?

I couldn't cheer. After all these years, starting in '75 when my Dad let me and my two younger brothers stay up late to watch Game Six, after all the near-misses, the torment from smug Yankee-fan "friends," those lonely miserable nights of clicking off the TV set and trudging to bad a loser again, all I could muster was a brief embrace with Mrs. E and then I melted into the sofa, a blubbering fool. My team had actually won something, for the first time in my life.

And to think I had a part in this, because on the morning of ALCS Game Four, I nearly chose not to wear my Sox jacket. Then, for some reason, I thought of Kevin Millar. Kevin has to put on the uniform tonight, possibly to be humiliated, possibly to traipse glumly off the field while the Yankees celebrate. If KFK will be wearing the colors, then &^&*! so will I! And so I gritted my teeth and proudly slipped my arms into the sleeves.

Congratulations to the 2004 Red Sox, World Champions. Mrs. Engle says I have clearance to drive to Boston for the victory parade.

I dragged my six year old out of bed, and my wife spent the bottom of the 9th trying to keep her awake. With two outs, I called my dad, and stayed on the phone with him for the final out and for some of the post game. My MFY fan wife gave me a bottle of champaigne, I ran outside (all was quiet in NJ) popped the cork, and screamed World Champions!!

Had some of the bubbly, then gave my soon-to-be 88 year old grandmother a call. She was pumped!! The little one grabbed the phone, so that was the last I got to talk to her (6 year olds like to talk about halloween costumes rather than world series). Then I grabbed a Hoyo de Monterrey cigar, just like Red, and lit it up.

I was at home too. I cried a little before the game, nerves i think. I did the same thing as the alcs, started to cry with two outs in the 9th, then i look over and my husband is crying too, of course we were so happy they won, but i know he was missing his dad who didn't get to see this beautiful miracle, then the jumping around began. Boy, alot of crying at mish's house.

I was watching the game in my apartment with about 11 other people...it still hasnt hit me yet, we rushed Fenway right after the final out. Then we saw it was blocked off, we need to repeat!!! I'm still shocked, this hasnt hit me yet at all.