Waxing nostalgic

I saw "Fever Pitch" earlier today (or yesterday by the time everyone reads this). It was pretty good. A few strange moments -- either surprising seriousness or out-of-place humor where the Farrelly brothers fall into old habits -- but otherwise very cute and funny. Jimmy Fallon and Drew Barrymore may just be the most adorable on-screen couple ever. And of course, it was about the greatest comeback in baseball playoff history (Red Sox vs. Yankees last year, for those of you who may not know what I'm talking about). And while I was immensely pleased that the Red Sox were able to break the curse of the Bambino, it got me thinking of other sports highlights that I've witnessed. (Incidentally, if you have too short of an attention span, there's an interactive portion of the blog at the end of the post.)

It was June 2001 -- the Stanley Cup finals. The Colorado Avalanche vs. the New Jersey Devils. It was already historic because it was the first time in more than a decade that the No. 1 seed from the East would face the No. 1 seed from the West in the finals. This was back in the glory days (at least as I remember them) of the Avalanche -- Joe Sakic; Peter Forsberg; the greatest goalie of all time, Patrick Roy; and so many other greats. It was destined to be an amazing matchup. But for us Avalanche fans it was about more than winning a second Stanley Cup. We were rooting for a man named Ray Bourque. In his 22-year NHL career, he had won numerous accolades, but one had always escaped him -- the Stanley Cup. So he had joined the Avs from the Boston Bruins because he thought it would give him a better shot at winning the Cup before he retired. Colorado was rooting for him, Boston was rooting for him. We wanted the Cup, but we wanted it for him.

And so the series began ... and it was epic. Game 1 went to Colorado in a rousing victory. Game 2 went to New Jersey. And back and forth it went. By the time we got to Game 6, it was nerve-wracking -- the Devils led the series 3-2. They only needed one more game to win and Game 6 was in New Jersey. But miraculously, the Avs pulled it out and the battle went to Game 7 ... at home in Colorado. It was just the third time in 30 seasons that the finals had gone to seven games.

During all this, I was at the University of North Carolina at internship training. But I and several of the other guys there would go out and watch the games or watch on the TV in the lounge of the dorm where we were all staying. As Game 7 went on, I was glued to the TV. I lived and died with every shot taken, every shot missed, every goal scored.

And in the end, Colorado won, 3-1. It was magical. I cheered in excitement. But then came "the moment" -- when the players handed the Stanley Cup to Ray Bourque and he lifted it above his head, his lifelong dream finally accomplished. It's the moment that still makes me a little teary-eyed to think about.

I have a friend who was actually at the game and he said he's never experienced anything like it. The place just exploded in celebration -- everyone cheering, grown men crying because they were so happy, strangers hugging one another.

And I guess that's what moves me the most about many of these sports victories. In a world where there are so many things to divide people, where more often than not people don't give each other the time of day, where strangers won't even make eye contact with each other, much less smile -- every once and awhile, you come across a moment when those differences don't matter, when no one is a stranger. Everyone is united in their love of a team and the common cause of celebrating its victory.

And for a moment -- just a moment -- you see how amazing human beings can be to one another.

And then the rioting usually starts.

And of course, because sports competitions are a zero-sum game, whenever there's a winner, there's a loser. And I can't help but feel for them, too, because I've also been there.

Nov. 8, 1997 -- my freshman year at the University of Missouri. I'm at the MU-Nebraska football game with my roommate. We've got seats close to one of the end zones and not far from the field. Although the rivalry with Nebraska is second only to the one with Kansas, no one really expects Missouri to win the game. Nebraska was undefeated for the season, hadn't lost a Big 12 game during the regular season in almost five years and had won the last 18 times they had played Missouri. The stats were not in MU's favor.

But lo and behold, the Tigers began beating the Cornhuskers. By the time the game was almost over, MU led 38-31 with just more than a minute left to play. The air was electric. People were crowding around, ready to rush the field and tear down the goal posts. We could taste victory -- and one of the greatest upsets ever. And we were there to see it firsthand.

And then it happened. Right in front of me.

Nebraska had flown down the field -- 67 yards in 62 seconds. Then, on third down with seven seconds left until sweet, sweet victory was ours ... one of the most freak "accidents" in college football history occurred. The Nebraska quarterback threw the ball into the end zone, but the receiver couldn't get to it. But as he fell, he kicked it and it landed in the arms of a diving Nebraska player.

Touchdown.

As you may know, it's illegal to purposefully kick a ball in a football game and doing so can result in a 15-yard penalty. But it was ruled accidental, a claim that remains somewhat dubious, particularly for Mizzou grads. But it was what it was. And after Nebraska scored the extra point, the game was tied and went into overtime.

But by then, we knew it was over. The momentum had shifted. The stadium, once raucous, was nearly silent. No one could believe what had happened. The football gods had taunted us, waving the possibility of an amazing upset before us, only to snatch it away at the last possible second as we reached out to see if it could possibly be real.

Nebraska won, 45-38.

You've never seen an entire stadium full of people file out and disperse into the streets as quietly as we did that day. It was heartbreaking.

And so, my dear friends, if you've read this entire lengthy trip down sports memory lane (or just skipped to the end), I conclude by asking you to share your top sports moments -- the wins and the losses. So go ahead, what's your most memorable game?