In '87, anything seemed possible for the Brewers

	With the all-or-nothing Deer crushing long balls at County Stadium, Milwaukee opened the 1987 season with a team-record 13 straight wins. John Iacono/SI
	Best Game I've Ever Seen RELATED: Click here to read all the essays REACT: What's the best game you've ever seen?

By Luke Winn

Editor's note: We asked SI.com writers to share their memories from the best game they've ever seen. Here are their stories:

It was April in the year of the wood-grained Topps. I was six and still piecing together a complete set of Brewers' baseball cards, among them two coveted stars (Robin Yount and Paul Molitor) and two obscure players who curiously insisted on using their middle names (Billy Jo Robidoux and John Henry Johnson). Milwaukee had begun the '87 season with an American League record-tying 11 straight wins heading into the 19th day of the month, which also happened to be Easter Sunday.

My family had an Easter routine: Egg hunt, church, then some ham-and-potato-based festivities at the grandparents' house on Highway N. That year, though, my dad had four tickets to Brewers-Rangers in the front row of Box 38, down the third-base line at County Stadium. He and three friends were splitting a season package, and he had "accidentally" (his word) drafted the Easter game. I recall there being some discussion between my parents about the general unholiness of altering our routine to eggs and baseball, but the plan for my father, mother, myself and my three-year-old brother, Nathan, to make the 70-minute drive to Milwaukee was already in motion. Churchgoing folk we were. Zealots we were not.

Even at that age, I could see the logic in the decision. Easter service would be offered every year until the end of time. But an 11-game-and-potentially-longer Brewers winning streak? That was a rare event that required our presence.

My memory of the play-by-play early on in the game is spotty. What I knew was that it was the first sporting event I had attended that felt both incredibly important and illicit at the same time. There were biker women in black bikinis in my section. There was a man in an Easter Bunny costume, complete with a baby-blue Brewers jersey. We were bound together by having decided to neglect church and family gatherings in favor of attempting to witness baseball history in the making.

As the Brewers failed to score more than one run for the first eight innings, and trailed Texas 4-1, there was also the growing sense that we were being punished. It seemed unlikely that unkempt Rangers slugger Pete Incaviglia, who hit a three-run homer in the fifth, had been granted any divine powers, but I didn't rule out the possibility.