An energized Mass. man writes,

I already voted absentee because I’m out of state this week (someplace warm) and I actually wish I were home to see this! How crazy is that? It’s 75 degrees here, it’s snowing at home, and I’d rather be there. I feel like I’m missing something historic. Like being a Berliner who was out of town when the wall came down.
I think of the 1980 U.S. hockey team. Beating the Democrats in Mass. is akin to beating the Russians. Nobody gave the Americans any chance of winning. Even when the U.S. team hung with the Russians early in the game, everyone assumed they would fade. When the game was tied late, everyone just knew the Russians would put it away. And even when the U.S. team scored the go-ahead goal, the feeling was that, with ten minutes to play, the U.S. just couldn’t hold off the Russians.
It wasn’t until Al Michaels counted down the final seconds that everyone thought, “This is really going to happen.”

I remember the ’86 Masters. I couldn’t bring myself to believe that Nicklaus (age 46) would win. I thought, “Oh, he’s just having a good run — don’t get too excited.” And yet it was hard not to get excited — even to “believe.” (Sorry to sound so dorky-New-Agey.) When he missed the (long) birdie putt on 18, and tapped in for par, I thought, “Oh, that’s nice. What a great afternoon. But don’t get your hopes up, Jay.” (Nicklaus was not in the last group.)

And yet my hopes were super-super-up. And lo . . .