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I don't know why I haven't thought of this in years--maybe I was blocking!
Anyway, if you remember the 1967 World Series, the Red Sox lost to the Cardinals in Game 7, which, if I recall correctly, was an afternoon game.
On that same day we had to give up the little beagle puppy we'd had for only a couple months. I blame my rotten sister--she insisted we get one, and of course we got attached, and my father couldn't handle the allergies, which is why we never had a dog before.
Anyway, I sat in my room (I was just a tyke, of course) and cried all day. My father tried to get me out to watch the game, but I wouldn't budge.
So maybe this isn't that sad a story, since I didn't watch the Red Sox lose in 7, as I did in 1975 and then 1986!
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