Curse This! - Boston Wins The World Series.

I won't recap tonight's game. I won't repeat what I wrote last week about Red Sox Karma and deserving to win. I don't need to delve into how much I respect Boston Baseball fans, who after being served up steaming hot disappointment for 86 years straight, still report for duty every spring as the most fanatical, faithful and fervent fans known to the sport. What I will do is share a few photos I took tonight for anyone wondering what it was like to be in the city of Boston the year the Red Sox finally reversed the curse, and won the World Series. I am surprised I made it home without being open mouth kissed by another man, hit over the head with a trash barrel or stomped silly by a police horse. Because that's what usually happens to me on Wednesday nights.



Here's Ris, Me, some old guy who kept trying to sneak into our photographs screaming about booze and hookers, and Ted. Or maybe it was Ris screaming about booze and hookers. I was caught up in the moment and don't really remember. Six Diet Cokes will do that to a guy.



There's Chrissy flying her colors in Tiernans where we all watched the game. I have a great video clip of the place erupting after the last out which I'm going to try to compress and post. Then there's a guy sitting on someone's shoulders waving a broom in Faneuil Hall. Get it? If the specifics of broom humor (I must have seen 30 people carrying them tonight) needs to be explained to you, Bob Saget might be more your speed.



What major sporting event championship would be complete without the obligatory "arsehole up the flagpole" photo? I'm sure this guy was dragged down and beaten by police like a flatulent stepchild shortly after this blurry mess was taken, but alas - my camera is absolute shite in the dark. I'll post some better photos tomorrow as they're e-mailed to me. And there are Ted and I amongst the swelling sea of 'Revere Rickys' screaming "fuck yeah dood!".

What really struck me about tonight was an overwhelming sense of unity. Fans of all creeds and colors - with no personal connection to each other other than they were all simultaneously out of doors - high fiving, screaming in people's faces, knocking each other over for a good dry-humping. And no one was killed by a stray pepper-spray packet which is always a bonus. It was all very touching. Jesus, there was a lot of touching.

The parade is Friday, and it's going to be a long weekend of revelry - Boston championship style. See you all at The Big Haunt.