Today, my friends, we celebrate the 25th anniversary of one of the most memorable moments in New York sports history.
If you are in your early 30s or older, surely you remember where you were when Mookie Wilson's "little roller up along first" eluded Bill Buckner.
I was fortunate enough to be sitting in the loge level behind third base at Shea Stadium, having spent a whopping $30 for the privilege with tickets I obtained through Newsday.
That night, and Game 7 two nights later, are the last time I remember being a pure, partisan sports fan before turning into a cynical sportswriter with no particular rooting interest. (It's OK. It's an occupational hazard.)
It is difficult for younger New Yorkers to appreciate just how big the Mets were back then, certainly more so than their counterparts up in the Bronx.
Between 11:30 and midnight during Game 6, 51.5 percent of the homes in the New York area were watching the World Series. Of homes with a TV in use at the time, 80 percent were watching.
I was not among them, obviously. But I do remember jumping up and down and yelling a lot. The only sports event I have seen in person that can compare was the ECAC hockey quarterfinal between Cornell and Providence on March 6, 1979. But that's another story.
I remember three Red Sox fans sitting behind me, one middle-aged and the others much younger. When it was over the older guy stood up, said, "See, I told you," and walked away.
Tuesday night "E:60" will profile Buckner.