I’d never witnessed a Sox walkoff victory in person before last night. I’d certainly never shouted as the guys partied on the field. I’d never seen a postseason victory as I stood inside Fenway.

Know what? I’ll knock on wood and do everything I’m supposed to, but it must be said: I could get used to this. Last night was absolutely sensational. Amazing. AAAH!

I’ll save words for when I have my photos uploaded, but in the meantime, I think my night at Fenway was amazing. Unfortunately, what followed was not. As it turned out, my keys had fallen out of my bag at work and became wedged into a chair near my desk. I had no idea until I was outside my apartment at 1 a.m., ringing my doorbell and preparing an apology for waking my roommate that never needed to be uttered. Roomie’s a deep sleeper and my cell phone died as I was trying to call my brother to see if I could crash at his place.

Which is why I spent the night at a hotel.

Could you imagine if the Sox had lost and I’d gone through all that?

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