su•ture: The process of joining two surfaces or edges together along a line by or as if by sewing.

The first time I had ever heard that word was back in 1996, the day before I graduated. As I was walking across campus, respectfully trying to avoid all of the alumni parents who had ventured back onto their own stomping ground, I stopped and looked at the library across the street. Hanging from the top of the library, with a range of about three stories, was an extremely large sheet that said "Peabody '96" in extremely large letters. Seeing as how I was both in Peabody (the dorm) and was a member of the Class of '96, I ventured back and asked a fellow senior how they got ahold of a sheet that large. Just then, my advisor walked into the room.

"Sutures."

"What?"

"We held together the sheets by use of sutures." It was then that I asked him what the hell a suture was.

I had not heard the word used in a sentence ever again up until after Game 6 in the ALCS.

Let me just say this about the Red Sox. This wasn't just a win. It's very important to win a Game 7 of any series. It also makes it a lot more important to win Game 7 at Yankee Stadium. However, there is one accomplishment that the Red Sox were able to do that will never be mentioned in any stat.

They were able to make the Yankee fans feel the heartbreak that the Red Sox fans had felt for generations.

Think about that for a moment. My dad lived his entire life and never saw the Red Sox beat the Yankees in any meaningful games, nor did he see them win a World Series. Luckily, he was not much of a baseball fan, or he would probably be a very pissed individual in the afterlife.

For just one year, there has been a role reversal. In 2004, I can finally say that it is the Yankee fans who felt the heartbreak of losing a series after having it seemlingly locked up. This was something that was NEVER reserved for Yankee teams, yet was a mainstay at Fenway Park.

As I walk down the street with all of my Red Sox stuff on after the Game 7 victory, I get picked on by the fans. They yell at me chanting things like "Boston sucks" or "Go back to Boston where you belong." All I can do is pity them. That was me my entire life before last night. And in one brief instant, the one thing that demonstrated New York's superiority over the rest of the country was washed away as the Red Sox became the voice of the rest of America.

One more story I want to tell. I walked into Au Bon Pain today and had all of my Sox stuff on. The guy behind the counter said to me that the New York fans deserve this championship because of the things that happened to them... and he cited 9/11 as an example. I pointed out to him that 9/11 also included a lot of people from Boston who died on the planes and he grew silent when he thought about it. He then said, "Yeah... yeah, you're right... but I still want the Yanks to win."

That's what it's all about, folks. The desire for a title. The desire to see your team be the one on the pedestal. New Yorkers deserve that every bit as much as Red Sox fans do. There is only one thing separating Sox fans from Yankee fans... and that's a championship within a generation. I think it's a travesty that dozens of generations of sox fans have been born, raised, lived, and died in a period of time in which they didn't see their team win anything. This goes for the Cubs and Indians fans as well.

When you're as passionate as we are, Yankee fans, you should at least be happy for us when our fathers and grandfathers actually get to see the Sox win a championship. Most of you know what it's like to win one (and not just one). We would just like one year of feeling that jubilation. And we also would like you to feel the pain that we felt for 86 years... NOT because we despise you, but because we want to make you understand what we know and have gone through.

That's all for now. Keep the faith.