Joe and I talked about it on the podcast earlier today, but I figured I’d bring it up here for discussion purposes. My signature Andy Pettitte moment, so to speak, is Game Five of the 1996 World Series. I was young, just a few days away from my 15th birthday at the time, and that game was one of the first that I can remember actually feeling. You know what I mean, that feeling of living and dying on every pitch, that stress that comes with not knowing what’s going to happen next and having no control over it. That feeling didn’t kick in until about the sixth or seventh inning, after the Yankees scored their lone run and we were able to starting counting down the outs on one hand. That was my first championship as a Yankee fan and I’m never ever ever going to forget it. Game Five was a huge part of it, all because of that guy right up there. I’m gonna miss the big lug.
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Anyways, here’s your open thread on this chilly, somber evening. The Devils are playing the Rangers in the Garden, which sums up the night in local sports. Talk about whatever you want, but I suspect Andy’s name will come up once or twice.