Wow, what a great birthday... I took a one-hour nap in the hotel where the concierge assured us that no bar in Tel Aviv would be open as late as 6. Then I told my dad that guy was full of crap, that Mike's Place would be open no matter what and filled with all the good Bostonians living in Tel Aviv. We got there and there were only the off-duty staff, Scottish and English mainly, and the American bartender.
I must have smoked two packs of butts, trying to fend off a drunk middle-aged London woman's comments about why can't we listen to music and put the game on mute and ignore all the drunks' pleas for more beer hours after last call.
The American bartender kept the place open for me and my dad, the only people watching the game, all the way until 5:42 AM when Foulke threw out the last batter at first.
I actually couldn't walk out of the bar for about fifteen minutes -- every muscle was shaking.
WHAT THE F#CK ARE WE GOING TO DO NOW??
Well, I guess we could wait until we win 21 more world series without letting the Yanks win one, then we'll be the most successful franchise in MLB history.
[size=small]THANK YOU BOSTON FOR THE BEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT EVER!!!!![/size]