KC entered the ALCS against a strong Helena opponent, and through some mysterious magick got up quick in the series 3-0. But before the champagne was chilled, the lead collapsed as quickly as it came, and we somehow found ourselves facing Game 7.

Having lost three in a row, the virtual boys were shell-shocked, questioning themselves and their bits and bytes. Analogous to the series, we scored first in Game 7. But the newly confident Helena squad blazed back. Down 3-1 in the 6th, KC's simmy manager had seen enough of the shifting strike zone and got himself tossed. Helena shrugged and went up 5-1 in the 7th before our boys finally responded with 3 in the top of the 8th. Helena added another to enter the 9th up 6-4.

Helena's boisterous sell-out crowd of 2,150 was chanting and stomping in the stands as KC came to bat for the last time. First, a ground out. then, a strike out. Two down, just like that. KC was an out away from one of the greatest collapses in Mantle playoff history. KC's simmy manager could barely bring himself to watch from his exile deep in the dingy visitor clubhouse.

KC's OF slugger, who missed most of the season with "neck, herniated disk," came to the plate. The KC bench was on their feet. And the delivery -- a swing -- contact -- a bounding grounder squeaks by the second basemen into RF. KC was still alive.

Next, the DH. Another slap up the middle, base hit. A whoop from the KC dugout. One more chance.

Underachieving 1B slugger Everett strode to the plate with comrades on first and third. The Helena fans were at a fever pitch. Would Helena intentionally walk him to load the bases? "Finish him!" was seen mouthed from Helena's pitching coach, and the count went quickly 0-2*.

And that's when they heard it. CRACK.

Even with the din of 2,150 screaming fans, it was unmistakable. The ball flew like a shot out of a howitzer into right field. Helena's RF Hitchcock futilely ran to the wall to watch the ball sail over it. The crowd fell silent. The score was now KC 6, Helena 4. KC had returned from the abyss.

The bottom of the ninth saw a shell-shocked Helena strike out twice en route to the loss. Helena's pixie dust had run out with only one out to spare. Everett said after the game: "There's only one thing we say to death. Not today."

And KC went on to the WS and their first world title in 48 seasons. [Share your story now...]

*artistic license

I can't beat that. Especially the creative details. However, over in glavine 300, we had a team that got no hit by his opponent, but still won the game 1-0. Walk, stolen base, stolen base, ground out.

Just win, baby. I always find myself in a debate about bringing up a speedster for the playoffs instead of a bigger bat. But there's usually one game kinda like that. Good one.

I played a 24-inning 1-0 game once against siberiansoul. IIRC it would have equalled the real life major league record length for a 1-0 game. When I opened the box score and got to the 9th inning, the scroll bar was so far away the bottom I knew it was going to be hilarious by the time I got down there. Each team threw 350 pitches

Game 7 of the World Series, we win 4-2 in 16 innings. My rookie defensive SS (career OPS = .645) hit a 2-run single in the top of the 16th, and the last pitcher on my staff, who had not pitched at all in the post-season up until this game, pitched 5 innings of one hit, no walk, 10 strikeout, shutout ball to win the game.