For reasons sufficient to myself, I'm about to post a photo of the celebratory dogpile that followed the final out of the 1996 World Series, in which the Yankees prevailed over the Braves. Why am I doing this? Mostly to call attention to Paul O'Neill's rather remarkable ability to position himself atop said pile ...
When it comes to summiting a wad of men, Paul O'Neill is without peer. How did he get in this position? Presumably, mad hops intersected with a buccaneering disregard for the thoracic spines of teammates. So impressive was Mr. O'Neill's feat that he would've been justified in planting a sovereign flag in Andy Fox.
This has been entirely unnecessary Internet Sports Content.
