I love telling the story. Anytime the subject of the Angels comes up I quickly roll into story-telling mode. Some enjoy my tale while others just listen politely then walk away no doubt wondering why I just wasted their time. I normally go on about details of that day, little nuances that are still very real to me. I will spare you, a true and like-minded Angel fan, those details but I do want you to know that I was at the “Dave Henderson game”.

I was on the left field side, with a great view of the field specifically Brian Downing in the outfield. I was a teenager with a driver’s license and nothing to do. The Dodgers introduced me to baseball, the Angels introduced me to passion for the game. I was weened on Cey, Russel, Lopes and Garvey but grew up on Disco Dan Ford, Don Baylor, Bobby Grich, Gary Pettis, etc. My seat was up high but as the game wore on I worked my way down closer to the action. It was a different time back in 1986 making this an easy task for a skinny teenger. By the time Dave Henderson came to bat I was just a few feet from the wall. The crowd was pushing behind me; we were all preparing to storm the field. It was a different time in 1986 indeed. The crowd noise was amazing, the push of the crowd would normally have bothered me but it didn’t that day; we were ready to be a part of something special. The Angels were going to the World Series. They were going to reward the Cowboy, Gene Autry, for his dedication to the team. This game was over, the final out being a formality – we were ready to charge the field and celebrate with our heroes. Then, it happened.

I remember just a few things after that blast from Henderson. Brian Downing dropping his head as the ball left the yard, the silence of the crowd as if a flip was switched and the over exuberant Sox fans after the game. One was carrying a red wagon with a Red Sox drum. It was pimped out with Sox flags everywhere. He banged that drum all around the stadium parking lot. I remember hating that we did nothing to stop him. I wanted so bad to knock the clam chowder out of that guy. But, we were beaten. The Sox beat us. It was the first series loss in MLB history that came in game six when there was still a game seven to play. We knew we were done and the next game just made it official.

The stigma of that loss stayed with the Angels. They were good after that, but never good enough. The Angels were relegated to mid-market and second-tier Southern California baseball status. Those were tough times. Whether or not Donnie Moore’s inability to successfully and completely let go of that loss contributed to his tragic death we will never know. But to say a cloud hovered over Anaheim was a gross understatement.

The sun began to peak through the clouds in the 90’s. The arrival of Troy Percival, Darin Erstad, Tim Salmon, Garrett Anderson, Jim Edmonds and others brought some real hope back to the stadium. This team was fun, exciting and carried a different vibe that the others before them. I remember knowing things were different when the team announced their biggest free agent acquisition at the time, the signing of Mo Vaughn. I remember thinking nothing had changed when Mo twisted his ankle in his first game. Turns out, that wasn’t the cloud re-grouping, it was just the cloud’s last hurrah!

The Angels were good again and it was time to lose the stigma of 1986 and I thought nothing could do that like a World Series win. But, when Darin Erstad clutched that ball right in front of the sign on the outfield wall commemorating the 1986 Division Championship, I was happy, but something was missing. I mean, I hooted and hollered. I made my kids think dad was crazy, yet again. But the 1986 itch was still there leaving me scratching, yet again. Why hadn’t a great win in 2002 against the best the National League had to offer done more to quench this frustration? Why didn’t a World Series Championship, in Anaheim, wipe away the pain of 1986? At the time, I didn’t know but now it’s all pretty clear.

The 1986 game wasn’t about a championship, the Sox beat the Angels but they didn’t win the Series that year. It wasn’t about winning a ring. It was, and please pardon the melodrama, more than just a game. No one realized that back then but it’s pretty clear now. That game left a mark. A mark so clear and pronounced that not even a World Series win would serve to completely erase it. To heal we needed more. For the cloud to pass we needed to tackle the stigma of 1986 head on and come away beating it. I know this is all very corny, but you are an Angel fan and I know you understand.

I wasn’t at Fenway 10/11/9, but it sure seemed to me that the top of the ninth in Fenway had the same feel we had at the Big A 10/12/86. The fans weren’t ready to rush the field only because they don’t let you anymore but they assumed the game was over just like we did 23 years earlier. Even the announcers assumed it was over mentioning in the seventh inning how worried Mike Scioscia must be about the upcoming Game Four. No, really, if you recorded it go back and replay the Angel half of the seventh, Red Sox Analyst Buck Martinez counted out the Angels and then spent the next few innings making up for the gaffe by reminding everyone that the Halos led baseball in come from behind wins. Their analyst had essentially put the game in the refrigerator (with sincere apologies to Chick Hearn), their fans were patting the Sox catcher on the back while they cheered “BEAT LA”. The stage was set, not for a Sox win however but for the Anaheim cloud to lift.

I was watching the game on TV and on espn.com. No idea why, just did. Espn Gamecast has this intriguing feature in the top right-hand corner that predicts the winner of a game in real-time based on “…historical situational statistics since the year 2000. The factors are inning, score, runners on base, current count and ballpark”. The dreaded “99%” showed up in favor of the Sox as the Angels were down to their last strike. It was at that moment that the similarities began to hit me. The crowd was as hyped as we were back in ‘86. The Angles were down to their last strike, like the Sox were back then. The Sox with their top closer on the mound, just like the Angels in 1986. I recognized what was possible, but it couldn’t happen, could it? The moment was now; it was there for the taking. THIS is what the World Series win couldn’t do. We needed this win. Not to close out the Sox but to close out the cloud!

Aybar’s hit was clutch and the spark that woke up hope in Angel fans. Figgins walked. That 99% for the Sox was dropping; the roar in Anaheim was subdued but growing. Abreu doubles to left. Left field. Angel fans, it was LEFT field. The cloud in Anaheim began to part. Hunter is intentionally walked and Vlady finishes it off. 7-6 Angels. You’re kidding right, 7 to 6? Wow. ESPN Gamecast flips from 99% Sox projected win to 80% Angels. Wow.

The checklist was eerie. To get past the funk of 1986 the Angels needed to do to the Sox what they did to them. No one will admit it, but it’s true. To erase the ghosts we had to battle them on the same terms and win.

• Sox needed to be one strike away – check
• Game had to be at Fenway – check
• Sox fans had to be at a fever pitch – check
• Sox had to lose – CHECK!

Now, the day after, more similarities are popping up. The aforementioned score, Angels lost in 1986 7-6, as did the Sox in 2009. Both teams had their best closer on the mound. The big hit was to left. I can’t say for sure but I have a feeling that a brave Angel fan left Fenway annoying just a few Sox fans too! The most eerie similarity or connection back to that game of them all however has to do with a fallen teammate. Weaver made a point to continue to memorialize Nick Adenhart by bringing his jersey out to celebrate at Fenway. Nick was born in 1986. As an Angel player will tell you, he was a part of this most recent victory. The link between 1986 and 2009 now complete; the cloud and stigma now officially lifted. Go Halos!

- Jose Salviati