#was in reference to all of them quarantining at buck's loft | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

diazboys · 3 years

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i like watching the days go by with you | 2k words | buddie | pre-relationship, domestic fluff | ao3

written for Eddie Diaz Week 2021 | Day 2: “This is nice.” + soft

A quiet but persistent buzzing noise coming from somewhere behind his head is what startles Eddie awake. He peaks one eye open but his vision is still fuzzy from sleep so he almost knocks over the lamp as he tries to locate his phone. Eventually, he manages to silence the alarm. With a sigh, he falls back onto the pillow, blinking and waiting until he feels awake enough to roll out of bed. The curtains are slightly parted and the already bright L.A. sun is creeping up the floorboards, painting a narrow path across the bed and widening up on the wall behind Eddie. He smiles to himself.

At the beginning of their group sleepover — or quarantine, if you wish — in Buck’s apartment Eddie made a small comment that getting blinded by the sun first thing in the morning wasn’t really his favourite thing to do. Since then, the curtains were kept shut every morning. Sometimes, when Eddie stirred awake as Buck was getting up, he saw his friend walk towards the window to peek outside. And every single time he parted the curtains just the tiniest bit, mindful of Eddie’s half-serious comment. The thoughtfulness made Eddie’s heart soar.

This whole living at Buck’s place thing has been… interesting so far. The sleeping arrangements seemed like a challenge at first but they’ve dealt with it pretty quickly. On the first day when they showed up on Buck’s doorstep, he had an argument with Hen about giving her the bed. Unsurprisingly, Buck lost and Hen happily took the couch. Chim, only slightly less happily took the mattress they've placed downstairs. There was a perfectly good mattress waiting for Eddie in the loft as well.

But the problem was that… he never really used it. That first night they were all tired after their shift, Chim and Hen already snoring quietly downstairs. Eddie moved over to the corner of the room, with every intention of crashing there for the night. But then Buck made a casual comment about the bed being big enough and that they could share if Eddie wanted.

And Eddie wanted. For a lot of reasons. Though the one that sounded the most reasonable at that moment was the fact that the bed was way more comfortable and required much less preparation than the mattress. And Eddie’s brain was too tired to tell him why sharing a bed with Buck was a dumb idea. ‘Having some kind of not-strictly-platonic feelings for Buck’ would definitely make it to the top of the list. But there was no list at the time, so Eddie just snuck under the covers on the left side of the bed that Buck left for him. They were both out within minutes.

And then Eddie just… didn’t bother with the mattress. Even though — or maybe because — on that first morning he woke up well rested and content, with Buck’s arm thrown loosely across his waist. It was nice. It took all of Eddie’s willpower not to roll over, closer into the warm embrace. Neither he, nor Buck commented on it and they let it be. Eddie was more than sure that Hen and Chim noticed — they noticed everything — but except a curious glance or five every now and then, they didn’t say anything. They kept up the whole thing even when Hen decided to go back home to Karen and the kids. Chim took the couch instead, his mattress had been put away. And Eddie stayed in Buck’s bed.

So here Eddie is now, sprawled on said bed with a stupid smile on his face, staring at the curtains like it’s the best thing ever. It certainly is great and lets him wake up without feeling like someone’s flashing a torch into his eyes. But it’s not directly responsible for the stupid smile, he must admit.

It takes him another minute before he finally wills his body to move. The right side of the bed is already vacant when he rolls over onto his stomach. He sends a glance downstairs. Buck is bustling around the kitchen, earphones in so he won’t disturb anyone. Eddie is pretty sure that he’s listening to this science slash comedy podcast he’s been obsessed with lately. He can’t really remember the name but he’s pretty sure there was a “fish” in it.

With one more content sigh, Eddie rolls out of bed and makes his way downstairs barefoot. As he walks closer, his brain recognises the scents coming from the kitchen. Coffee and something delicious that smells of tomatoes and fresh basil. His smile grows even bigger. He’s spent enough mornings here to hope that there’s a cup of freshly brewed coffee waiting for him as well.

Before Eddie can make a beeline for the coffee machine and check, Buck turns to take something from the kitchen island. His eyes skip to Eddie and his whole face lights up in a smile. Eddie’s breath hitches but he reciprocates the gesture. How can he not when Buck is looking like that, all happiness and soft curls? Eddie’s right hand twitches by his side. There’s a sudden need in him to run his fingers through Buck’s hair, to see if it’s as soft as it looks like. To stop himself from doing something stupid, Eddie grabs the barstool and sits down. He stuffs his hands under his tights, for good measure.

“Morning,” Buck greets, taking his earphones out and putting them in his pocket.

Before Eddie can say anything, a cup of coffee is placed right in front of him. He inhales the scent and lets out a happy little hum that makes Buck laugh.

“Hildy sends her regards,” Buck jokes, laughing even harder at the unimpressed look on Eddie’s face.

Really, it’s about time Buck let that go. It wasn’t Eddie’s fault that he had been startled, hearing a strange voice saying “Hello, Eddie” as he walked into the kitchen that first morning. And he already apologised for the mug he dropped. To Buck’s credit, he did disable the voice greetings after that. Now the cursed machine was just… quietly lurking from its place on the counter.

“Thanks, Buck,” he says sincerely after all, deciding to ignore the comment.

Buck only shrugs with a smile and turns back to whatever is sizzling on the pan. Eddie wraps his hands around the mug and takes a sip. Another content hum escapes his lips before he can stop it.

“This is nice,” Eddie says.

He’s not even sure what exactly he’s referring to. The coffee, the slow and calm atmosphere of the morning, the sight of Buck in a soft hoodie, pushing an omelette towards Eddie? The domesticity of it all that makes Eddie’s heart ache? It’s all of it and probably more. If only Christopher was around to join them in the kitchen right now, to ask for pancakes for breakfast and complain about his online classes or tell them about the dream he’s had. Then, Eddie would be completely and thoroughly happy.

And this is a thought that both excites and terrifies him at the same time.

But it’s a bit less scary when Buck is standing right in front of him, his big arms resting against the counter as he leans forward. He’s looking at Eddie with those soft eyes and a beautiful smile on his lips. The only thing Eddie can do is to stare back and hope that his face is better at controlling his emotions than his heart is.

It would be so easy to just lean forward a little and—

“God, you two make me miss Maddie even more,” Chimney says from somewhere behind Eddie’s back.

His sudden appearance startles Eddie enough that he pushes a fork off the counter. It falls to the floor with a loud clatter and he quickly ducks to retrieve it.

“I’ll start giving you plastic utensils at some point, I swear,” Buck says, shaking his head at Eddie. His eyes are laughing, though, so Eddie knows he’s not being serious.

“Oh fuck off, I apologised for that mug already. And it was just a fork this time, don’t be dramatic,” Eddie rolls his eyes at him but he’s smiling as well. Then he turns and adds, “Morning, Chim.”

Chimney is freshly showered and pours himself a cup of coffee. He’s also watching them with a raised eyebrow and an amused smile on his face. Eddie tries his best to ignore that, just like he ignored Chim’s comment.

“Um, so,” Eddie starts, wanting to steer the conversation onto a different track. “What facts did they have today?” he asks, pointing his chin at Buck’s phone laying on the counter. Just like he expected, there’s a paused episode of that No Such Thing as a Fish podcast.

“Oh, did you know that there is a type of pasta that only 3 women in the world can make?” Buck’s eyes light up in excitement. “It’s some fancy one they make in Sardinia and it’s called threads of God. The recipe has been passed from mother to daughter for ages.”

“What if they run out of daughters and have a son?” Eddie asks.

“It’s fine, cause the recipe isn’t even secret or anything,” Buck says, pointing the spatula at him. “It’s just a pain in the ass to make. They’ve been trying to teach people how to do it but it’s just hard enough that most of them just give up.”

Chimney chuckles at that around a mouthful of omelette. "You should totally try. I wouldn't be surprised if you'd manage to do it, out of sheer stubbornness."

And Buck — both because he's interested and because he rarely steps down from a challenge — reaches for his phone and starts googling for the recipe and reads out whatever he finds.

It sounds really interesting. And not only because Eddie has a soft spot for Buck and the little tidbits of information he gathers and then excitedly shares with everyone who wants to listen. Eddie always does. Some people just shrug or roll their eyes at Buck, but Eddie really admires his interest, the childlike curiosity about the world that Buck has. There are so many things Eddie admires about him.

All things considered, Eddie shouldn’t be surprised that somewhere along the way he has fallen in love with his best friend.

It catches him a bit off guard, being able to put a name to the feeling that has been blooming in his heart for so long. But it doesn’t make him panic, at least no more than having feelings for his best friend already did. It’s more of a relief, really. It all makes sense now.

Eddie doesn’t even realise that he’s been smiling and staring at the half-eaten omelette in front of him until his phone buzzes with a new text message. It shakes him out of his thoughts and he opens it to find a photo from Christopher.

"Everything okay, Eddie?" he hears Buck ask.

Raising his head, Eddie is met with a slightly worried gaze. He smiles, showing Buck the text he's just gotten.

"Yeah, Christopher's just complaining about his history assignment," he explains.

Buck chuckles at the photo of Chris' pouting face as he holds a history textbook and 'There's too many dates!' with a row of angry emojis written underneath. "We should FaceTime him later. I miss that little rascal."

Eddie doesn't point out that they've done that barely two days ago. Instead, his smile grows bigger as he agrees. He knows for a fact that Chris misses his Buck just as much and that the two of them have been texting a lot.

For some reason, Chimney sighs, rolls his eyes as Eddie glances at him, and leaves the kitchen with his coffee cup still in hand. Eddie's not sure what that was about. He doesn't have time to dwell on it though, because Buck drops on the barstool next to him with his own breakfast, their knees knocking together as he makes himself comfortable. Sipping the last of his coffee, Eddie bites the inside of his cheek to stop a smile.

He really could get used to spending all of his mornings like this.

#eddiediazweek2021 #eddieweek2021 #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie fic #buddie #my writing

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pixiealtaira · 5 years

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I was tagged by @chocoholicannanymous to post the first lines of the last ten fics I wrote...on. They all were WIPs..all of them. It might be a bit embarrassing to admit that this doesn’t even make a dent in the WIPs in progress. Nope...not a dent.

I realize I tend to long first paragraphs often, so I went with between 3 and 6 lines...

Pretty much nothing as a name...so I’ll refer to it by the title of the doc.

So, with our further fluffiery...from what I worked on latest to ten back....

1) Modeling AU ---glee WIP

Santana, Rachel and Kurt were filling the condiment bottles and chatting as they watched while the group of 4 singing wait staff finished their last song. Or rather Rachel and Santana were chatting and Kurt was trying to ignore them while not letting them know he was ignoring them, or at least not letting Rachel know he was ignoring them. He wasn’t incredibly happy with anyone that moment, although he was at a better place with Santana than with Rachel. It could have been because he and Santana had had it out a bit earlier so the air was partially cleared, but not cleared enough for him to be helping her chat with Rachel.

2) NaNoWriMo 2017 ---- glee wip, also second part to the story above but nano wants new works...so I made it one (this year nano was a failure...ended up with too much family drama going on and the son was a senior in highschool)

Kurt Hummel trudged into the costume workshop attached to the theater department at NYU. He wasn’t sure Rosie, who he was supposed to meet up with was even there yet, as it was ridiculous o’clock in the morning, but the back entrance door was open so he figured someone responsible was inside.

“hello?” Kurt called out.

“In the room with the sewing machines, back right hand door.” Kurt heard yelled back to him.

3) NaNoWriMo 2016 ------glee wip...again this year of nano was a failure...but that was because I was sick for most of it

The summer after Blaine’s massive meltdown and tantrum and the subsequent break-up was looking to be…difficult. Horrid. Soul crushing. Kurt saw no relief from it. There was no one to ease the feeling that somehow he was solely to blame. He had no one to talk to, really. Artie blamed Kurt and wouldn’t give him the time of day. He was the only one still in New York City. He hadn’t heard from Elliot or Dani since before he was bashed back in February…he remembered asking about why he hadn’t and getting a vague brushing off and then the bashing happened and then every moment was focused on Blaine again…making sure he wasn’t feeling inadequate or ignored. And no body at work spoke with him, at least not at the diner.

4) CM-Glee cross --------Criminal minds Glee crossover WIP...I am determined to finish this and it’s companion fic...I will...at some point

If one had asked, which of course no one ever did, Spencer Reid would have actually told that anyone who’d asked that he would have rather been anywhere else than where he was. He’d have liked to have had the opportunity to give some input, to have some options! Yes, he’d had some …issues, especially when things were dealing with teens, but it wasn’t like everyone else he worked with had always done everything exactly right each and every time either. (Morgan and any pretty women they worked with in any way shape or form…for example. Hotch stopped Spencer from talking before he got that pointed out though.) These weren’t even really teens, for the most part…at least not high school students. Out of the six deaths, only one was a student. Spencer did not see the reason Hotch had stared at him the whole time he gave his lecture on not letting themselves get too emotionally involved. Nor did he see why HE and HE alone had been left at the police station when they arrived. He was actually an agent, for Pete’s sake.

5)nanowrimo 2013 ------glee and criminal minds crossover WIP...yes you read that date right,however this ficis over 80000 words and I think could be finished quickly if I could just get past one fricking scene

After Kurt’s summer from hell, Kurt Hummel had hoped that things would be better for the school year, or at least the same things wouldn’t be bad. He was really tired of the repetition of misery that was his life lately. However, when it came down to it, school had been going just like it had the year before. Granted, he’d only been tossed into the dumpster once so far. (He suspected it was because he was harder to toss this year after putting on a few inches in height.) However, the locker slams had become brutal again and slushies were still a routine.

6) why Kurt speaks fluent french ----I suck at titles. Glee WIP. Somehow half what was written for this got lost...on some hard drive or flash drive was another 5000 to 10000 words, but I have not been able to find it so we spent a bit over the summer rewriting.

Elizabeth Hummel looked around the parking lot of Hill Side Elementary School, and wondered once again where the hill that she’d figured it was named after actually was. It certainly wasn’t anywhere near the school. False advertising…that ought to be a good reason not to have Kurt go to there, although she was pretty certain her husband would disagree. Elizabeth hated the school. She had hated it from the start, really…from the moment they got the letter in the mail that told them that due to the schools nearest them being under construction still and the next closest school being under renovation and so only being able to house half the students it generally did…her child was slated to go to Hill Side.

7) Kurtoberfest day 16 holiday recipes --- WIP, almost done, maybe, au where Finn is alive

Kurt remembers the day Finn Hudson’s career path was chosen. Finn had come to New York to ‘hang’ with his brother and sneer at Rachel and torment Santana. (Ok, Finn said he’d come to hang with Kurt, but he spent more time sneering at Rachel and tormenting Santana than hanging with Kurt, to the point of refusing to go site seeing to places Finn had wanted to see in favor of bugging the girls.) Kurt and Finn had been watching old comedies waiting for Rachel to get back so Finn could bug her when Kurt switched from Sister Act to Kindergarten Cop. Finn had never seen Kindergarten Cop. Kurt was frankly dumbfounded about that fact, seriously. Kindergarten Cop was like a staple of movie viewing. Finn watched Kindergarten Cop with an intensity that Kurt had only ever seen him give to 45 buck steaks and a basketball ball game on TV once that Finn had bet 300 dollars on. Finn didn’t even notice when Rachel came stomping into the loft and then left again.

8)Kurtoberfest prompt 17 harry potter au ---glee and HP crossover

When Harry Potter left Britain, and the wizarding world, he decided to run to someplace he could get lost in. He beat dear old Voldie, he’d won the damned war for them, and all he got from it was fits from people who didn’t like how he did it…he should have used magic, not non-magical means and he certainly shouldn’t have used a snake to help…and proof of just how manipulative certain people had been in his life, which thankfully the goblins had helped him with after he proved to them he did not sign anything giving anyone means to form marriage and partnership contracts with anyone. Half the Weasley’s weren’t talking to him, and he was fine with that after finding out that Ginny had been feeding him love potions because he wasn’t responding the way she wanted and that Dumbledore had sold him off to her mom, essentially in trade for her pledging the aid of all her children to Dumbledore’s cause. He also didn’t appreciate that Dumbledore had promised Harry’s magic to the ministry in exchange for the ministry turning a blind eye to certain things Dumbledore had done…like sealing his parents wills with no authority to do so.

9) Severus Snape meets a Small Harry What If ----Harry PotterWIP one of like 8 with this name in my WIP folder. This one has a big harry and a small harry and is a bit dark

As Severus Snape watched over Flitwick’s classroom, full of Gryffindor third years, he cursed the fact that the quarantine of a house also included their head of house. He cursed the outbreak of – what was it…ah, yes… the Chicken Pox – some silly Muggle disease a first year had brought back with them after a family gathering during the short spring break which had spread through the Ravenclaws like a wildfire.

10) T and T Kurt....Glee WIP Just how did Kurt’s tiara collection get started?

Elizabeth Hummel looked around the dressing room area of the pageant and briefly contemplated her sanity…or lack of…in getting involved with it all. She was tired of the tantrums and whining and screaming done by both mothers and children. Luckily her child wasn’t involved in any of that. Her child was seated off to the side.

“Katerina Bates, please come stand by mummy.” Elizabeth called.

The child slid off the chair they were seated on and hopped over.

“Elli. Not Katerina.”

“Katerina today. You can be Elli tomorrow.”

Yeah....there were six other in that Kurtoberfest bunch being worked on, three other HP and three other CM fics..because I told myself I would finish a WIP this summer and my mind said NOPE, Will no concentrate on One. Nope Nope Nope.

Also wrote lines for beans for Clever Jack and the Magic Beanstalk because of course the magic beans needed a whole mini scene song and dance number to themselves...of course they did.

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junker-town · 4 years

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I rewatched Game 5 of the 2004 ALCS and it was magical

It took nearly six hours and 14 innings, but the Red Sox made it happen.

My heart sank when my baseball-loving kid asked when we were going to watch a game again. Then I remembered after the Red Sox won the 2004 World Series I bought the full set of games on DVD, including the entire American League Championship Series. Having never actually watched any of the discs, I vaguely remembered stashing them in a box that had somehow made its way from Philly to Boston by way of several Cambridge apartments.

Eureka! I still had them.

Photo by Ezra Shaw/Getty Images

We started with Game 4 of the ALCS against the Yankees because even in a quarantine I wouldn’t bother with the first three games. My kid soon became familiar with Papi, Manny, and the whole gang of Idiots. He promptly proved his Masshole bonafides, yelling, “Come on Millah!” when Kevin Millar came up to bat in the ninth against Mariano Rivera. For the record, neither my wife nor I have a Boston accent and he doesn’t either. I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was a proud moment.

My wife, incidentally, couldn’t care less about baseball, but she has fond memories of staying up late with her friends, living and dying with every pitch. When Dave Roberts stole second, she screamed like it was happening in real time.

Game 4 was iconic, of course. The whole sequence belongs in a time capsule. Starting with Millar’s walk to Dave Roberts’ steal through Bill Mueller knocking the great Mariano Rivera off the mound with the game-tying single like he was Charlie Brown in a Peanuts strip. And then, much, much later, Big Papi’s home run. Game 6 was even more famous with the whole bloody sock thing, while Game 7 was just pure cathartic release.

But Game 5 — holy shit, Game 5. I had forgotten how magically insane it was. Over 14 innings and almost six hours, it was like watching a slow-motion nightmare unfold only to emerge in a blissy dream state where unicorns are real and it ain’t over ‘til Big Papi takes a swing.

To set the scene, Game 4 ended after midnight, meaning Game 5 took place literally the same day. Your starters were Mike Mussina and Pedro Martinez, making perhaps his last start in a Boston uniform.

Photo by Ezra Shaw/Getty Images

The Sox took an early 2-0 lead but couldn’t bust out a big inning against Mussina, who settled down and pitched a gem. Martinez was also dealing, but that pitch count was rising higher as we got to the sixth with the Sox leading, 2-1, which is when I started taking notes.

Martinez is getting up near 100 pitches. I forgot that after 100 pitches he turned into Ramiro Mendoza. Thankfully, Joe Buck is here to remind us. Tim McCarver thinks pitch counts are overrated and now I’m yelling at McCarver to shut the fuck up. (For future reference, STFUTM will serve as shorthand.)

Earlier, he told an incredibly random story about Trinidad Hubbard that made absolutely no sense. Hard to believe, but there really was a point when McCarver was an insightful announcer. Happens to all of them, eventually.

Martinez gets Bernie Williams to pop up, but Jorge Posada reaches on a quirky infield single and Ruben Sierra follows with another hit. I’ve seen this movie before. It ends badly. Tony Clark strikes out and now it’s up to Miguel Cairo. Martinez just hit Cairo to load the bases. 2004 me is yelling at Terry “Tito” Francona: “GET HIM OUTTA THERE, FRANCONA.”

Photo by Linda Cataffo/NY Daily News Archive via Getty Images

Tito leaves Martinez in to pitch to Jeter and Buck notes that Jeter hasn’t put his stamp on this series yet. Oh God. The inside-out swing. The slicing line drive landing in right. Three runs are going to score. I’ll go to my grave saying Prime Nomar was better, but it would really help if Captain Intangibles stopped doing stuff like this.

Looked like Cairo may have been out at the plate, but it’s real close. You know what this game doesn’t have? Replay review. There were at least eight plays by my count that would have been subject to replay review and this game would still be playing if that was the case. We got along fine without reviewing every close play and I would like to return to that nebulous state of affairs when the world stops burning.

You know what else this game doesn’t have? Fans on cell phones. Everyone is hanging on every pitch and it’s beautiful. I know this because the broadcast keeps cutting away to the stands and I’ve seen the same woman clasping her hands in prayer between pitches a dozen times. Pretty sure I’ve seen her at the Fresh Pond Trader Joes.

LOL, Martinez plunked Alex Rodriguez just because he could. McCarver doesn’t like it. STFUTM. Now Gary Sheffield walks to load the bases. Um, Tito? I think you can go get him now. Francona leaves Martinez in and he gets Hideki Matsui to fly out. Good job, Tito.

The Yankees had a chance to break it open in the eighth, but Mike Timlin gets A-Rod to pop up with a runner on third and one out. This was A-Rod’s chance to be a True Yankee and he blew it. Shame, really.

On we go to the bottom of the eighth and it’s time for the WebMD update. Today’s injury is a broken heart. Thanks, guys. Really appreciate it.

Photo by Keith Torrie/NY Daily News Archive via Getty Images

Here comes Papi and he takes Tom Gordon over the Monster and off the Volvo sign. I miss the Volvo sign. Now Millar, who draws another walk. Dude could take a walk like nobody else. Roberts comes in to pinch run and Gordon throws over a half dozen times. He’s clearly rattled. It’s happening again.

We’ve officially reached the moment where Francona becomes a super genius. Everyone keeps expecting Roberts to steal second, but Tito calls for the hit-and-run and Trot Nixon executes it perfectly sending a line drive single to right center. God bless that dirtbag right fielder.

First and third, nobody out and Joe Torre calls on Rivera. Officially this will go down as a blown save when Jason Varitek lofts a sacrifice fly to center to tie the game, 4-4, but this is on Gordon. No Yankee ever scared me more than Mariano. Salute to him.

When McCarver gets what he considers a profound thought in his head, he slows his cadence for dramatic effect. Then he repeats himself like he’s delivering a dugout sermon from Whitey Herzog.

“After 169 games and eight innings, the Red Sox season comes down to one inning,” McCarver tells us before the ninth. “One inning.” Oh Tim, we’re just getting started.

Photo by Barry Chin/The Boston Globe via Getty Images

Keith Foulke is on to pitch the ninth. He worked 2 ⅔ the night before and will pitch tonight and then again in Game 6. Foulke threw 14 shutout innings during the postseason and was never the same. He gave up his career for this postseason run and was never properly appreciated because he made some crack about fans the following season that caused everyone to turn on him. Here’s to you, Keith Foulke. I have no idea how you ever got anyone out, but you were nails.

In the ninth, Tony Clark hit a ball to right that somehow crawled up the short fence and landed in the stands. Had it stayed in play, Ruben Sierra would have scored and the game would have been over. Sixteen years later, the universe hates Boston and its run of championships, but in 2004, this was all strange and new. Kind of miss those days.

Bronson Arroyo, fresh off getting hammered in Game 3, strikes out A-Rod and Sheffield en route to a clean 10th inning. The strike zone, by the way, has been a tad inconsistent. It’s hard to tell because there’s no K-Zone or pitch tracking and again, that’s totally fine! Maybe we were better off not knowing everything all the time.

Even though I know how this is going to turn out, I keep expecting Papi to hit a home run every time he comes up to hit. Instead, he strikes out.

On we go to the 12th and it’s Tim Wakefield time. The knuckleballer’s normal catcher/binky is Doug Mirabelli, but Tito rides with Varitek, who has absolutely no idea how to catch a knuckleball. Super genius.

Cairo singles to left and Manny kicks it like only Manny can, allowing Cairo to get to second. My kid smacks his forehead and says, “Oh, Manny.” He doesn’t even know the half of it. Fortunately, Jeter flies out and so does A-Rod. Crisis averted.

The Sox have stopped hitting. This seems bad.

Photo by Rick Friedman/Corbis via Getty Images

Ah, the 13th. Nothing bad can happen here. Sheffield is swinging for the Mass Pike. He’s legitimately terrifying. Somehow, Wakefield strikes out Sheffield with a nasty knuckler that Varitek misplays into a passed ball. I remember thinking at the time, “This is how it’s going to happen. This is how they’re going to kill us.”

Two outs now and Matsui’s at first. Whoops, another passed ball. Now he’s at second. Intentional walk to Posada. Everyone at Fenway is nervous as hell. My wife comes into the room and starts watching. Now she’s nervous.

ANOTHER passed ball puts runners on second and third. Missed opportunity by McCarver to say something profoundly stupid like, “Johnny Pesky held the ball. Varitek can’t catch the ball.” Actually, that would have been pretty good.

Seriously though, one more miscue from Varitek and he’s Mike Torrez combined with Bill Buckner. Somehow, somehow, Wakefield strikes out Sierra and Varitek miraculously holds on. Fenway erupts. My wife cheers. “Mom, you know what’s going to happen,” my kid says but none of us care. This was the greatest game I ever saw and even now it doesn’t seem real.

Photo by Corey Sipkin/NY Daily News Archive via Getty Images

OK, now the 14th. Esteban Loiaza is on to pitch for the Yankees and he’s somehow become Whitey Ford. His cutter is filthy. Johnny Damon, who has done absolutely nothing this series, draws a walk.

Two outs and here’s Manny. I always loved Manny in these spots because a) he’s a great hitter and b) he’s completely impervious to pressure. God, this is a great at-bat. He’s fouling off quality pitches and laying off sliders just outside the zone. Manny gets his walk and trots to first like it’s a game in June against the Orioles. Here comes Papi.

It took 10 pitches for Ortiz to end Game 5 with a bloop single to center off the handle of the bat. He fought off nasty cutters and sent one about 420 feet screaming into right that went foul. My wife is tense. My kid is yelling, “Come on, Papi!” Finally, the big man does his thing and Johnny Damon comes home from second with the winning run.

Buck had a great call. “Damon can keep right on running to New York.” McCarver immediately blows it by saying, “He didn’t do it again, did he?” Dramatic pause. “He did.” Thanks, Tim. Oh, and STFU.

Photo by Ezra Shaw/Getty Images

By the way, there’s no off day because there was a rainout prior to Game 4. I have no idea how either one of these teams turned around and played again the next night, but I’d give anything for another marathon Red Sox-Yankee game right about now. Thank Papi, I still have the DVDs.

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