Like most earth-shattering events in my life, I can still remember where I was when Aaron Boone hit his homerun off of Tim Wakefield during last year’s ALCS, ending not only the Red Sox season, but my belief that good could eventually triumph over evil.

I was at the Sun Tavern in my hometown in New Jersey. New Jersey being a Yankee stronghold, I left my friends and the rest of the Yankee fans as soon as the game was tied to watch by myself, surrounded by a few bus boys who didn’t speak English. After being subjected to the standard “1918” and “Boston Sucks” chants, I returned home to drown my sorrows in beverages of various natures.

The following day, as I attempted to move on with my life as best I could, I found myself at an Old Navy buying a pair of jeans. Still wearing my Red Sox hat, unshaven and sporting the “thousand-yard stare” usually only seen on front line infantry men in war time, I moved to the counter to make my purchase. As the cashier bagged my purchase and handed me my receipt he offered some words of comfort.

“Don’t worry buddy. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Down 0-3 in a best of seven series, three outs away from spending another winter waiting for next year, (and another night in my boxers on my futon drinking by myself) Dave Roberts and David Ortiz re-affirmed my faith in humanity.

The next week was a blur. I spent the rest of the next seven days not really knowing where I was. I slept about 12 hours combined, ignored family and school responsibilities and questioned what exactly I was doing with my life about a dozen times. For some reason though, I somehow knew this was the year. As soon as A-rod was called out on his interference call, I knew something was different. After the greatest comeback in sports history, it seemed like it was just inevitable.

Game one provided some scares as the Red Sox blew two leads, but unlike previous years, I never really panicked. By the time Foulke flipped to Mientkiewicz I was done physically and mentally, experiencing a combination of elation and relief.

As I made the phone calls to my friends, both Yankee and Red Sox fans, and spent ridiculous amounts of money on shoddily made, over-priced Red Sox World Series Champions merchandise f I thought back to a year earlier at Old Navy when I got a pair of jeans and a life lesson or less than $25.

And to all you broken-hearted Yankee fan’s out there, don’t worry. Everything is going to be alright.