Raw: Being in an unnatural condition, powerfully impressive, stark.

Emotion: A mental state that arises spontaneously rather than through conscious effort and is often accompanied by physiological changes; a feeling.

Two years ago I watched as the Chicago Cubs made their way into the postseason. I cheered against them as much as possible, after seeing the amount of bandwagon fans. I didn't feel bad at all when the TV cameras turned to the faces of the older fans — most of whom showed the raw emotion of coming so close, the devastation of their hopes and dreams.

I promise I'm not that mean-hearted of a person. I'm not from Chicago and I have no ties, yet I find it fun to see the Cubs lose.

I thought this was a Chicago-wide feeling … until Sunday night.

Because of midterm season and a freak accident that temporarily cut off my cable, I hadn't seen much of this year's playoffs. I wasn't really pulling for any team in particular, and wasn't rooting against anyone either — although it was nice to see both the Yankees and Red Sox bow out early.

So when my friend Cary invited me out to State Street Brats to watch Sunday's Game Two of the World Series, I couldn't pass it up. It doesn't matter who the teams are, October baseball is a must-see, and I had barely seen any of it.

So I met up with my buddy, a die-hard White Sox fan from the south side of Chicago, and two others who I would get to know over the next few hours — one of them another lifelong Sox fan and the other a Cubs fan, desperately cheering for an Astros victory.

From the first pitch, I knew I was in for a treat. Little did I know that I was about to see raw emotion swing back and forth and culminate in an ending that I will never forget.

I already got a feeling for how bad the South Side fans wanted this World Series — and who could blame them? They have been cheering for a team their whole lives that has played second fiddle to the Cubs and much of the country didn't know and didn't care to know about.

However, it was Morgan Ensberg who gave the Cubs' fan reason to cheer in the top of the second. But this year's "Mr. October," Joe Crede, tied the game with a single and the White Sox later took the lead in the second inning, and the great emotion shift began.

The Astros tied the game in the third and the nail-biting ensued.

Lance Berkman picked up RBIs two and three in the fifth, giving the 'Stros a 4-2 lead, and Cary started getting worried … until the bottom of the seventh.

Of course, what would a White Sox playoff game be without some controversy? Jermaine Dye seemed to foul a pitch off, but the umpires ruled that it hit him and awarded him first base, loading the bases.

Of course, this spawned a remark about lucky breaks and bad calls by the Cubs fan — which was a reasonable argument. But of course, Chicago would take advantage of the more-than-questionable call.

With Cary downstairs refilling on beverages when Phil Garner went to reliever Chad Qualls with the bases loaded, the subsequent return to action to see Paul Konerko's grand slam sparked what I thought would be the most exciting part of the night.

The slam caused an uproar — as most fans in the bar were cheering for the Sox. It also caused the greatest two-floor exchange of words that I've ever seen. Let's just say, expletives were exchanged, but you can imagine the Sox fan on the first floor yelling up to the Astros — err…Cubs — fan on the second floor, and vice versa.

Classic.

When the White Sox held their lead into the ninth, the game seemed like it was over to me. After all, it was Bobby Jenks time.

The Sox fans, while confident, were not celebrating yet, which turned out to be a good thing. The Astros put a chink in the closer's armor, scoring two runs off him and tying the game.

Looking at the White Sox fans, you would've thought they had lost the game. Their heads were buried in their hands as the Cubs fan gloated. But as we all know, it wasn't over yet.

With one swing of the bat in the bottom of the ninth, former Brewer Scott Podsednik changed the night, and perhaps these fans' lives forever.

The left fielder's solo shot to end the game sent the Sox fans in an uproar, jumping up and down, shaking the rafters.

Of course, it sent the Cubs fan home, and in such a quiet fashion that I hadn't even noticed he'd left until after the 10-minute celebration had ended.

But the raw emotion from the Sox fans helped me to remember the raw emotion that is so great to see in sports.

As a sports writer, I have taught myself not to cheer for the teams I cover. Consequently, these are the teams that I grew up loving, so I haven't had the chance to feel the raw emotion in a few years — perhaps the Badger football team's win to end Ohio State's streak my sophomore year, or the basketball squad's Big Ten championships.

While I love my job, the absence of the emotional aspect is kind of sad, and thus I must thank those Sox fans who helped me — even though I wasn't the one cheering — feel those emotions once again.

Don't stop believin'.