Here's a guest blog from our buddy Looserobes in Utah:

Everybody remembers where they were on certain dates, such as November 22, 1963 and September 11, 2001. I do too. But I also remember, with everlasting suffering, the date of October 3, 1951. I have had post-traumatic stress syndrome ever since, and I was only a couple weeks short of my ninth birthday at the time. Of course it was still called “shell shock” then. Nevertheless, the impact was the same.

On October 3, 1951, Bobby Thomson of the New York Giants hit the infamous Shot Heard ‘Round the World, a bit of hyperbole that described his walk-off home run in the bottom of the 9th inning with two runners on base against my beloved Brooklyn Dodgers, who had held a 4-2 lead. The homer won the National League pennant for the Giants. My friend Paulie, an Indians fan, and I had skipped school to see the game on the relatively new media called television, in glorious black and white.

“The Giants win the pennant” announcer Russ Hodges kept screaming, over and over, as Thomson rounded the bases and the pitcher who served up the gopher ball, Ralph Branca, hung his head in ignominious defeat. “The Giants win the pennant,” Hodges kept screaming. The words pierced my heart. It seemed like he just kept screaming it and screaming it, though in reality it was just five times. That was more than enough.

Bobby Thomson just passed away at the age of 86. I’m sorry that he’s dead, though I can’t say I’m in mourning, by any means. I have not achieved final closure yet. That won’t occur, if at all, until that inept bullpen pitcher Branca goes to his (much deserved) final reward. He’s presently 84. How long can he last? Thomson’s gone now. That ought to be Branca’s cue.