The Greatest Comeback of All Time

I once thought it was June 30th, 2000.

Today I am not sure.

I entered Monday Night Football up 90-84 in my fantasy matchup against Yankees2000 all-movie cornerback Chris "Goat" Ditata. Once again my team fell victim to terrible luck on Sunday. How do you say 55 points out of Samkon Gado and Carolina's D?

Well, this season for me has been about as frustruating as it can get. My team's record is 3-6 despite posting the league's second most points. I fell victim to 4 straight losses where I scored in the top three of that week. You could say I was truly bitter.

TRULY BITTER.

My team shared the same 3-6 record with this team in our 12-team league despite outscoring it by some 200 points.

QB Palmer Frerotte
QB Brady Warner
WR M. Harrison R. Williams
WR J Horn D Branch
WR T Glenn D. Gabriel
RB Edge K. Jones
RB C. Martin F. Taylor
RB LJ W. Parker
TE A. Gates LJ Smith
D Chicago Pitt

So I needed to close this one out on Monday. Otherwise, my season was done along with my dignity (note: fantasy football comes behind family but in front of friends in my list of priorities).

So entering Monday's game against Goat I had Terry Glenn and he had Brian Westbrook.

And after 56 minutes i was down 97-90.

100 total yds and a td out of Westbrook.
0,0 out of Glenn.

I was angry, distraught, devastated. Give me an angry adjective and Ill give you a Sippy Momo.

Chris and I sat there on IM, the best of friends, but at that moment, the biggest of rivals. It was truly edge of your seat action. One more loss for me and I would be 3-7 and basically eliminated from action.

In my league's scoring, I needed 30 yds and a td from Terry Glenn. I needed a miracle.

So there the drive began, about 4 minutes to go and the Cowboys trailing 20-7.

WHOOP!!! an 11 yd out to Terry Glenn. This was his first touch of the game.

A few plays later, Marion Barber broke a long run to the Eagles' 21-yard line. Here was my chance. I needed it. A 21 yard TD by Glenn here and I would get my win.

I told Chris it was coming to which he responded, "If you win this game, I will fucking kill you."

Then it happened, Bledsoe stepped back and off his back foot he floated a ball into the right corner of the endzone... Touchdown Terry Glenn!!!

Glenn's #'s: 32yds, 1 td= 8 Fantasy points.

The game ticked on and I remained nervous. I couldn't lose. A 14 yd screen to Westbrook and I would tie. But it never happened.

Chris signed offline, saying "I'm not talking to you till the concert" dismissively as he went (In reference to next week's U2 concert we are attending)

JUBILATION! EUPHORIA! It was like my first time all over again!!

Was this the greatest comeback of all time? Was this the greatest comeback that I had at least been a part of?

While it was truly special, it was a close second.

See, every kid that's ever played fantasy football can relate to my story (I assume that is every person that reads this blog sans Sippy Momo Sr.) just like every Mets fan knows where they were for the greatest comeback of our lifetime.

I just happened to be there when it mattered.

I go back to June 30th, 2000. I had just graduated high school and on that day I learned some devastating personal news. I drove with my dad to Shea Stadium but all that I could think of was my problem. It was killing me.

We arrived at Shea for the game against the Atlanta Braves. This was at the peak of the John Rocker/Chipper Jones hatred and in the midst of a very close NL East race.

It was a huge game.

It was a beautiful night.

It was perfect.

We arrived at Shea, me and my dad, and were waiting for our third party, A Friend of Mr. Glass. We got to our seats in Section 47 Row M of the Upper Deck (I save the stub, along with game 5 of the NLCS in my wallet).

These seats were as close to heaven as you could have gotten. (Editor's note: these were the very words he uttered when I arrived).

AFOMG arrived right before gametime and all was good. He was my go-to with the Mets, my neighbor and close friend.

Ironically, I had been calling my father "Chipper" for about a year. His name is Larry, the same name as Chipper Jones' given first name, and it just clicked to me.

I always made sure it was cool with my dad, but being the guy that he was, he would always reply, "Call me whatever you want, as long as it's not 'asshole'."

So the game went on. I dont remember who started for the Mets, but I do remember that it was Kevin Millwood starting for the Braves.

As always, in big game form, the Mets got off to a SHAKY start. A really shaky start. By the bottom of the 8th inning, we were down 8-0.

I remember my father gave me the quick look and look away. This meant that he thought it to be a sensible time to leave, beat the traffic, but he knew that I didn't leave games early. Without a word spoken, our eyes were again glued to the beauty that is Shea Stadium. You could say that this is one of the more beautiful father/son understandings in sports.

Can I recount every play of that inning? I cannot.

That said, I remember a few things very clearly.

Bobby Cox took out Kevin Millwood with a low pitch count.
Kerry Lightenberg was one of the pitchers that came in.
Terry Mulholland came in w/ 2 outs, after about 3 pitchers.
The Mets had a ton of walks to trim the lead

and....

The Monster.

Facing Terry Mulholland with a 1-0 count and the Mets down a run after his teammates had put up a 7-spot in the inning to that point, Mike Piazza hit a bullet of a line drive that couldn't have gotten higher than 10 feet off of the ground. Still, it just kept on going. Before you could blink an eye, the ball went over the left field wall for a 3-run home run. Mets - 10, Braves - 8.

I jumped up and down, my father to my left, my best friend to my right watching the greatest comeback in the recent history of the Mets, my favorite team led by the greatest player to ever wear orange and blue (Editor's note: or, as was the case that night, orange and blue and black) in one of the bigger series' in Mets history.

Moments don't get better than that one. It was EUPHORIA.

Most of that night is blacked out to me. Really my only vision in my head between the home run and my bed was pulling out of the Shea parking lot right before we were to get on the Grand Central back to Manhattan.

Still, that was the greatest comeback I had ever seen.

And Monday night was the greatest comeback in my long and memorable fantasy career.

I sat there and watched Bledsoe to Glenn and thought about Big Mike's perfect moment. Shea's perfect moment. And mine and AFOMG's perfect moment.

I was completely worn out.

Gotta run, catch some waves.

Sippy Momo