As the ball came down in Rico Petrocelli’s glove for the last-and-final out, the town went up in the air like a beautiful balloon. Perhaps it will never come down: Red Sox euphoria is a gas that can keep you higher than helium. Or pot.
For an instant Petrocelli looked at the baseball. Then he began to run as though he were Chiang Kaishek in Peking because he could hear the shrieking mob behind him.