Hello and happy Tuesday everybody. Hope you’re doing well. Happy 22nd anniversary of Game 4 of the 2004 World Series: the night where the curse was officially reversed!
Who needs to talk about the Brewers being on the brink of a title when we already did that 22 years ago and when we can take a trip down memory lane?!
Where were you on this day in 2004?
Little 8-year-old me was at my home in Quincy with my mom. My dad was not at home; he was at Busch Stadium, the lucky jerk. I napped before the game
to make sure I didn’t miss anything if that night was the night. When Foulke stabbed that ball before tossing it to Mientkiewicz, I was picked up and swung around living room like I was a goddamn ceiling fan. I remember waiting by the house phone waiting for a call from my old man—he said he would call if they won—for what felt like an eternity. It finally rang, and all I could hear was screaming for about two minutes before I could make out his voice (also screaming, of course). I can still remember it clearly.
Share how you celebrated 86 years of hurt being washed away in the comments below.
Be good to each other and go Sox.
