NEW YORK - They are on the verge of history. A day away from their happiest hour as fans of the Red Sox. Literally, one victory from euphoria.
You can tell all of this by the look of terror in their eyes.
Today, in Boston, there is hope. Which, for a devoted Red Sox fan, should be the same as fear.
That's just the way it is, when you have been raised on heartache and sustained by disappointment. For, in these circumstances, it is only natural to be wary of fortune's call.
They are so accustomed to despair, it is often carried with them as a shield. A way to ward off further frustration.
So welcome, then, to their dilemma:
Applaud yesterday's success or fear today's outcome?
"I think," centerfielder Johnny Damon said, "the pressure just shifted back to us."
For the first time in baseball history, a team has forced a Game 7 after losing three consecutive games to open a postseason series.
The Red Sox won Game 4 in 12 innings, Game 5 in 14 innings and Game 6 with a gimpy pitcher on the mound. They have literally been outs away from elimination, and now they are hours away from the World Series.
"We never doubted," said reliever Mike Timlin. "We may have had reservations about what might be around the next corner. We didn't want to see what could happen. But we've pushed it back. We pushed it back."
Their leadoff hitter has been abysmal, their No. 3 hitter does not have an RBI, their bullpen has thrown more innings than their starters and they have been outscored 42-31.
Yet, this morning, they are tied with the Yankees.
"I am so fricking proud to be a part of this team," Game 6 winning pitcher Curt Schilling said. "We just did something that's never been done. It ain't over. It ain't over by any stretch ... but I'm feeling pretty special about being a part of this club."
It has been more than 80 years since they have truly had the upper hand in their rivalry with the Yankees, so this could be their grandest moment yet.
Which means it might also be their deepest disappointment ever.
It's no exaggeration to suggest a victory today would be the most special Boston has had in 86 years.
Not only would it complete the most remarkable comeback in baseball's postseason history, it would come at the expense of the Yankees. And winning the World Series ranks only slightly higher than humiliating the Yankees in most New England zip codes.
You see, this is not a rivalry, it's a parable.
The world's grandest city versus the smaller neighbor near the coast. The most accomplished team in sport versus the franchise of perpetual heartbreak.
The button-down mystique of the Yankees versus the long-hair impetuousness of the Red Sox.
And then, of course, there is the history between them. Most rivalries are built on some type of give and take. Not this one.
Since the Red Sox sold Babe Ruth to New York in 1919, the Yankees have been World Champions 26 times. The Red Sox have not won a single World Series.
Too many times the Yankees have stood between the Red Sox and success. There was the pennant race in 1949. The one-game playoff in '78. Game 7 of the league championship series last season when the Red Sox blew a four-run lead and watched Aaron Boone hit a home run for the ages.
"We felt like it was supposed to be like this," outfielder Gabe Kapler said. "All year long we've been asked if it would mean more to us to reach the World Series by beating the Yankees. We continuously said no. We probably should have said yes all along."
Theirs is a rivalry of extremes. Too much success on one side, too much jealousy on the other. Even in the rare season when the Red Sox outperform the Yankees, they fall short of the ultimate prize.
And so the Boston fan suffers. Even in victory.
A Game 4 victory means another chance to fall short in Game 5. A Game 5 comeback sets the stage for misery in Game 6. A Game 6 triumph is the precursor to another Game 7 collapse.
So did David Ortiz's game-winning hits prolong the series, or the agony? Did Schilling's gutsy performance Tuesday night change the course of the series, or feed its inevitability?
Every pitch, every hit, seems somehow related to those of a previous hour. Ortiz hits a 12th-inning home run in Game 4 and you wonder if it is payback for Boone. Tim Wakefield comes out of the bullpen in extra innings in Game 5 and you ponder Mike Mussina and cosmic retaliation.
The spectacle that is Yankees-Red Sox long ago moved beyond common methods of measure. It is viewed with wonder and calibrated in memories.
