Here are my pictures from the left-field bleachers Wednesday.

Observations from the game:

The Pre-Game Military Fly-Over: I was outside on the street, waiting for friends, when a rumbling began. It sounded like a subway train arriving overhead. I looked up at the tracks, but no train. The sound got louder. And louder. And louder. Something is wrong. My god, what was happening? I looked up waiting for the tracks to collapse on me. Then the sound dissipated into a whoosh, and I remembered the military fly-over. I giggled, reminded of when I was equally terrified during the fly-over at the 1999 All-Star Game at Fenway Park, when I thought I was going to get blown off the right-field roof. The fireman next to me wasn't giggling. He was sweating. He was wobbly, and had to lean against a wall to remain upright. He mentioned to his partner how he thought the whole stadium was coming down. I patted him on the shoulder and gave him a look of understanding. He'd clearly been through a lot two years ago.

$7 Beers at Billy's: Businesses around Yankee Stadium have long been known for gouging customers during the postseason. For example, parking rates go up to put the same car in the same spot in October. Customer service isn't much of a concern. Wednesday night I paid the most I have ever spent on one bottle of domestic beer — $7. Seven fucking dollars, in the fucking Bronx in a fucking dump. And if I had more time before the game I would have ordered another one.

The Tension: I'd been to two other games this season where the Red Sox won at the Stadium. Their fans were numerous and vocal. Wednesday, when the stakes were highest, there were dramatically less Sox fans present (tickets were sold prior to Boston's division series victory over Oakland), and they were almost subdued. It's like Red Sox fans don't know how to react to success in October. Like they don't want to jinx themselves, for fear of resurrecting some kind of curse or something. Like they can sense something really, really bad coming.