Seventeen years ago tonight, I was an undergraduate student at the University of Pittsburgh. I was working on a paper that was due the next day, while simultaneously watching Game 7 of the 1992 National League Championship Series between the Atlanta Braves and my then-beloved Pittsburgh Pirates. The details of the evening or even the game or even the bottom of the ninth inning aren't important now. We know how it ended. I've talked about it in this blog before. A bottom of the ninth that started out with so much promise deteriorated quickly and ended when Sid Bream scored, thus breaking so many hearts in Pittsburgh, including my own.

The Pirates, fans of good baseball, and I have not recovered yet.

But I did get a great name for a dog.