LEWISTON – This was it. Arguably the greatest moment in Red Sox history. They were one pitch away from upsetting the dreaded Yankees. The crowd was ready to erupt.

Then the cable went out.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said 37-year-old Steve Laprise. “The Red Sox are going to beat the Yankees, and we’re not going to see it?”

At Fast Breaks on Lisbon Street, rabid baseball fans sucked in a breath and then held it. The cable went out for more than two minutes just as the Sox were about to go on to the World Series.

Then, everything was all right. The cable flickered back on in time for fans to see Ruben Sierra ground out to end game seven. It was over. The Red Sox, at long last, had won. Jubilation ensued.

“It’s amazing. I can’t believe it. It’s about time,” said 28-year-old Scott Smith. “This is unheard of. Four games in a row? In Yankee Stadium? Totally unheard of.”

But it was true. Boston won and won easily. It was perhaps the most relaxing of any of the games played in the seven-game series. At Fast Breaks, fans high-fived each other. They hugged and threw their hats in the air. They whooped and screamed and hugged some more.

“You see?” said 26-year-old Shaun Herrick. “I knew they would win.”

The celebration was just beginning in the early-morning hours today. Hours earlier, it had been a much different atmosphere.

Stomachs were knotted. Throats were dry and hands, clammy. Hearts raced like jackhammers behind Red Sox jerseys. There was sweat on every brow.

For Boston fans, the tension was sky-high even before the first pitch of the game was thrown.

“I’m not nervous exactly, but I’m anxious,” said 28-year-old Chris Stasulis. “I don’t know if I can deal with another Red Sox loss in a Game 7.”

Fast forward a half-hour. At Fast Breaks, about 50 people are in the air at the same time. Screams of glee are deafening. Johnny Damon has just hit a grand slam to give the Sox a 6-0 lead.

“I can’t believe it,” said Smith. “Yeah, that makes me feel a little better.”

Years or decades of frustration for these fans have all come down to this one night. They wear ratty hats and jerseys, take odd routes to the bar or order only specific drinks. Anything that might jinx the Yankees and turn the horrible Red Sox luck around.

“I love the Red Sox. They killed my grandfather and now they’re coming for me,” quipped David Orino, at the start of the game.

“Last year nearly killed me, but I’m still here,” said Herrick. “I love the Red Sox. I breathe the Red Sox. I’m a fan, no matter what.”

By the second inning, Orino and Herrick were just another pair of fans who had already screamed themselves hoarse. When Damon smashed his homer to right field, the whole place erupted. Grown men embraced complete strangers. Waitresses paused with plates of food.

“It really gets rowdy,” said waitress Kassidy McManus, who was wearing a bright red jersey. “You just look around real fast when everybody screams.”

No problem there. Even the worst of the skeptics were already becoming hopeful. They screamed and imagined the unimaginable: the Sox overtaking the Yankees after they were down three games to none.

“I figured I’d be watching football by this point,” said 46-year-old Jim Coburn.

“I think they’re going to win,” said 26-year-old Tricia Hould. “I know they’re going to win. Yesterday, I was nervous. I feel better today. I have faith.”

By the start of the game, there was already a crowd at Fast Breaks.

The crew there was expecting a bigger crush of people when the Maineiacs hockey game finished.

By the start of the third inning, more bodies were already filling chairs and stools.

“Everyone is digging deep,” Stasulis said of the way the pitchers were pitching and hitters were hitting.

Bars around the Twin Cities reported brisk business as Sox fans turned out to watch history unfold. Those who had to work were finding ways to catch the game. At the Lewiston Fire Station, crews were tuning in between calls.

“There’s a big screen upstairs,” said fire Capt. Vic Gaudreau. “A lot of times though, they’ll just congregate in the kitchen around the little TV.”

Most of the baseball fans Wednesday night were bleary-eyed. They stayed up late the past few nights to watch marathon games between these two legendary rivals. They sat through nail-biting extra innings and saw the Red Sox stay alive.

“When this is over,” said Coburn, “I’m gonna need some sleep.”

“I really need a good night’s rest,” echoed Stasulis.

But not yet. There was enough adrenaline and energy at Fast Breaks to keep even the most fatigued man or woman screaming and jumping.

In the third inning, the Yankees got on the board. As any Sox fan knows, no lead against the Bronx Bombers is big enough. Still, it was only one run. And the Sox got two back a half-inning later. It only got better from there.

Just after midnight, the game ended. The brief snafu with the cable did not deny the Sox fans their right to witness the Yankees demise. They got to see it. They got to feel it. And they got to begin a celebration that should last for days until the World Series begins.

“I feel great,” Smith said, beaming in the crowded, chaotic bar. “I can’t believe it. I really just can’t believe it.”