As I walked home, a man came up to me with his right hand in the air. He approached me and said, “Respectfully, ma’am…” at which point I gave him a high five, “… tonight we are World Series Champions!”
About a block from my house is a man standing in the street wearing a Red Sox jersey, waving a broom, and drunk off his ass.
In Harvard Square, a tuxedo clad trumpet player is probably still playing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” or the “CHARGE!” fanfare, because that appears to be all he knows.
Car horns are honking like crazy outside my window.
85-year-olds (and younger) around the city are relaxing a little bit, because yes, it did finally happen in their lifetimes.
Tony LaRussa, like Joe Torre before him, is trying to figure out how his team just lost four games in a row — in a row!
Manny Ramirez is holding the MVP trophy, drenched in champagne.
And the Boston Red Sox are the World Series Champions.
Who’da thunk it?