What an amazing year it's been for the Red Sox and all their massive nation. This ALCS has shown us exactly what baseball is all about. Terrific pitching, game-saving plays and something every Red Sox fan knows well - nail-biting, hair-tugging, breath-holding curse fests that keep you so close to the edge of your seat you barely have half an ass cheek supporting the weight of your hopes and dreams. And all that fucking cursing.

The last few games in the series have made history; last night of course being the first time ever in baseball playoff history that a team has come back from a 3-0 deficit to force a game 7. Shilling came through on the mound last night and made over 50,000 New York fans shut up; and he did it while sporting a blood-soaked sock. Hell, even Belhorn showed up last night. All our boys are playing great with such heart and camaraderie you just feel proud and happy to be a part of it. Proud until they show the "inebriated jack-ass from Boston who screams incoherently at the camera while spilling beer and spitting on his friends telling us how much the Yankees suck!" who is painted as the poster boy for the Red Sox fanbase. Cause that's what we're all like.

It is every Red Sox fan's birthright to keep the faith, hold on and ride this emotional rollercoaster all the way to the end. I have my mother to thank for giving birth to me in New England. I have my father to thank for bringing me to countless Sox games at Fenway dating back to diaper-wearing days (me in the diapers, not dad). I have Dan to thank for eating, drinking, sleeping and shitting nothing but Red Sox with me. Scratch sleeping. I don't think I've had more than 8 hours sleep since this series began. I'm now functioning on pure adrenaline, caffeine and nicotine. I've been in danger of suffering a coronary attack for the past 72 hours now and counting. I'm beginning to see double and my brain is farting at an expediential rate. But I'm all smiles. Granted I may resemble that of a deranged crackhead with my fellow Sox fans, but there's a smile there nonetheless.

I have my 60 Oz coffee in one hand, a can of coke in the other and some twizzlers hanging out of my back pocket. I think I'll go have a cigarette and get on with my work day.