When the epic, drama-drenched Game 7 was briefly delayed by rain, Indians players returned to their clubhouse, where chairs had been removed and plastic sheets hung in anticipation for a party waiting to pop since 1948.
Later, unopened bottles of Dom Perignon were wheeled out of a luxury suite. An ice sculpture of the World Series trophy was cloaked by a black cloth, soon to melt away.
It wasn't meant to be.
An amazing, unforeseen season had a familiar ending.
Unable to stop Chicago's curse-slaying run, the Indians, a team that perhaps embodied Cleveland's blue-collar, get-off-the-mat ethos more than any other, finally succumbed in the 10th inning, losing 8-7...