Growing up as a pre-teen kid in the 70s it was always kind of a game to huddle underneath my bedcovers with an AM radio either listening to Ken Coleman or searching for far-off games from across the eastern seaboard. On a lucky night I might even get a faded KMOX, all the way from St. Louis. Tonight, as my wife slept to my left, I tuned in to the last few innings of the Sox-Yanks, put earbuds into the iPhone, and did my best to surreptitiously listen in (and now, type this post). Whereas 30 years ago I was doing my best not to be found out by my mom and dad, today I did my best not to roust my tired wife. Three decades have passed, and transistor radios may be mostly obsolete. But the digital, wireless joy of late comebacks and heroic homers feels just as it did back then.
What a game.