frankj1 wrote:got a standing "O" opening day of his "comeback" to Boston in 1990, well before he threw out the first pitch to open the 2008 season. Unlikely he would have come near Boston for the end of his career if there was a chance he'd get taunted again.
The media latched onto the goat thing, and many fans bought into it. Not all, not baseball knowledgeable fans who saw what happened. It's like why stories of crime appear on the news, but not stories of law abiding everyday people. Normal is not news. But the believers are loud and emotional.
Passionate pink hat types maybe fell victim to the emotion, and they spend a lot on their passion, which comes and goes, front runners that they are. Highlights endlessly repeated can create a version of what happened, but isolating the highlight with the Scully narration was just a momentary event, but isolated from the whole is/was misleading.
But if a wild pitch (debatable passed ball) earlier in that game had not happened, there never would have been a 10th inning.There was no reason to have not put Stapleton at first for the bottom of the inning once they took the lead either. Suddenly the manager got "sentimental" and sent a crippled defender onto the field?
A lead was blown in game 7 as well. Buckner did not blow the series.
I know because I am a knowledgeable baseball fan. As are most people I know.
'...There was no reason to have not put Stapleton at first for the bottom of the inning once they took the lead either...'
Yep. Damned Calvin Schiraldi always got a pass.
Game Six wrecked me so bad, I couldn't bring myself to watch Game 7. I was in a bar for both games. A friend told me they were winning in game 7. It didn't matter. Knew they were done.
Fast forward to 2004. June/July, Sox are 10 games back. I'm drinking bourbon, with my Sox hat on (that I got from the Lansdowne shop on my honeymoon) when two gross, oversized Yankee fans walked in, started playing pool. One of them, in that filthy new york accent pointed at my hat and said "Your guys a looozas, and you'll always be looozas."
Circled the bar in record time, dropped the bigger of the two with one shot to the jaw, just in time to watch the half of the pool stick broken over the back of my head, fly through the air like a helicopter blade. It went downhill from there.
I had to get peeled off of the floor. That following week, they started gaining ground and later (a month after my father in law died) they won the series. One beating for a championship? Gladly.