Kit and I debated going to one of the World Series games in San Francisco, but ultimately we decided there were better things we could spend a thousand dollars on. Still, when it came down to a close finish of Game 4, we wanted to be somewhere with people to feel that charge of celebrating as a community. So we went down to a local brew pub and found it satisfactorily crowded with people, all the TVs turned to the eighth inning of the game, score tied 3-3.
Well, if you don’t know what happened after that, you probably don’t care. But it was a fun time. A group of people tried to get some stadium-style chants and clapping going, and we joined in. We cheered the efforts in the top of the ninth, held our breath in the bottom of the ninth (and cheered Jeremy Affeldt and Santiago Casilla as they held the Tigers scoreless), and the place erupted in cheers when Marco Scutaro drove in Ryan Theriot for the go-ahead run.
And then Sergio Romo, the goofball closer who has been Romobombing the playoffs, came in. Our crowd cheered louder and louder with every strike, and when the ninth one landed in Buster Posey’s mitt, the place went nuts. We jumped around and cheered and high-fived each other.
It’s one of the things I love about sports: that sense of unity it brings to a community. For a few minutes, last night, we were all champions.