There's Something About Game 6's

One of Reggie Jackson's Three Game 6 Homers

Look at all the famous Game 6's. Not just in the World Series, but in any seven game series. 5 of the 6 Jordan-era Bulls championships were won in Game 6 (MJ's first championship over the Lakers was in 5). Reggie Jackson's three home run performance in 1977, Game 6. The Buckner game, Game 6. The Bartman game, Game 6. Curt Shillings ALCS Bloody Sock Game, Game 6. Tonight's extra innings heart attack extravaganza, Game 6.

Poor Bill

One of the causes of all this excitement in Game 6s is that one team is playing to win the whole tomato. One team is playing to keep their season alive and force a game seven. Reggie Jackson's three homer Game 6? Championship. Buckner, Bartman, the Bloody Sock, and tonight? Forcing a Game 7.

Tonight's heart attack extravaganza is special. It is special because it was eleven friggin innings. It is special because it took the better part of five hours. It is special because it is one of the few games I've spent cheering with a band of friends in the pool hall across the street. Normally I watch my big games at home with maybe my fiancee.

As a Yankees fan, I will forever hate this sock.

This one was different. Four tables at the bar were cheering for St. Louis. One person, at our table no less, was cheering for Texas. I am generally opposed to just about anything that comes from Texas. My fiancee has family in St. Louis. Tony La Russa is my second favorite manager behind Joe Torre. La Russa looked old tonight. He looked old explaining what the hell happened in game 5. But he looked older as his team hung 3 errors on the board tonight. I imagine I look a little old after those three errors, and I was just watching in a pool hall.

St. Louis had three errors. Texas had two. St. Louis became the first team in MLB history to score runs in the eighth, ninth, tenth, and eleventh innings of a World Series game. They were barely fending off Texas with scores in the eighth, ninth, and tenth, playing catch up as the Rangers continued to jump ahead. Finally, in the bottom of the eleventh, David Freese hit a home run to straightaway deep center. Before the ball had cleared the fence, fans were clamoring over the railing to get into the grass for the ball. Everyone but the Ranger Girl at our table (who is really a San Francisco fan, go fig) is screaming, clapping and high-fiving.

Just at our table alone, this game took its toll. The Sports Fiancee, who is now fast asleep, felt like her spine was being wrung out. She kept holding her pink scarf over her mouth and nose. She'd sniff for a bit, almost praying to the Baseball Gods. Then would rock back and forth like Rainman. it turns out she wasn't going through some ritual for the Cardinals to win. She had to pee so badly, but couldn't stand to leave the game long enough to get to the bathroom. She and Ranger Girl both had to be cajoled during a Ranger pitching change in the 9th to finally go. I have never seen two women get into the bathroom and back so quickly.

The only other guy at our table and I decided to do tequila shots around the 7th inning. Just as we got our shots, Beltre hit his home run. We joked about needing the alcohol to make it through that and downed the Tarantula. We ordered another shot just in time to see Cruz hit his home run. We decided, in perfectly logical fashion, that our shots were causing the Rangers to hit home runs and stopped drinking.

At five different times during the night someone at our table was laughing so hard they were either crying, curled up in the fetal position in their chair, or trying not to wet themselves.

At five different times during the night, we vocalized our disgust with the errors in something that could never be classified as intelligent language, let alone English.

Have you ridden the S.L.U.T.?

At at least five different times during the night we joked with the table in front of us about the Seattle Transit System deciding to name one of their light rail systems the South Lake Union Trolley and that name actually getting approved by the mayor's office.

This was followed by at least five different references to "Riding the S.L.U.T."

We laughed, we cringed, we screamed ourselves hoarse. Baseball can do this. Other sports can't. Basketball is too fast paced. There isn't time for the conversations there are in baseball. The Sports Fiancee was able to look at an advertisement on the wall and name all 32 NFL teams during the game. Football is slower, but there is still enough going on that you can't keep conversations going during a game.

One of the main complaint about baseball is that the games are so slow--that there isn't enough action. Baseball, especially baseball in the World Series, is a game of tension. I kept reaching over to massage the Sports Fiancee's back,  knowing she was in agony watching her team drop routine flies like the Bad News Bears. She was in even more agony after the platter of fried food, the Irish Coffee, and however many glasses of water, even before St. Louis had to claw back in the eighth, and ninth, and tenth innings. Baseball builds that tension. The game is slow, but so is the build up to a really good horror movie. Suddenly, a fly ball that has a chance to be a home run is flying toward the outfield. You find yourself holding your breath. You are clenching your fists. You are clenching your bladder because you drank too many Sam Adams during the early innings. The ball is caught and you can relax...except your bladder. Then the next hitter comes up and it starts all over again. Baseball is an emotional roller coaster wrapped into a sport. Enjoying it with a group of friends makes it all the more enjoyable. Making it a do or die for one team at game six makes the roller coaster that much more of a wild ride.

What baseball fan doesn't dream of this?

On to Game 7.