This past July, the Boston Red Sox and manager Alex Cora made headlines when they agreed to a three-year, $21.75 million contract extension. The timing undoubtedly caught people’s notice, but the choice to keep their partnership going didn’t.

A lot of people believed Cora would finish out his contract before looking at his options in the winter and ultimately signing with the highest bidder. Although the former operated differently, Chicago Cubs captain Craig Counsell used a similar strategy during the previous winter, and his perseverance was rewarded with a “industry-shaking” contract.

In the end, Cora decided to put a stop to the rumors and remain in Boston. Considering the other management possibilities that would have likely been offered to him this winter, the decision has held up nicely. Chris Cotillo of MassLive pointed out one potential suitor, the Philadelphia Phillies, who might have both enraged Red Sox supporters and stolen him.

If Cora had left the Red Sox to join the Phillies, can you image the commotion that would have resulted? Philly was the “greatest outside threat” to entice the 49-year-old, but we’ll never know (unless it happens in the future), according to Cotillo.

If Alex Cora had chosen to sign with the Phillies rather than sign an extension, Red Sox supporters would have gone crazy.

Dave Dombrowski, the president of baseball operations for the Phillies, has a “affinity” for Cora that dates back to their two-year overlap in Boston from 2018 to 2019, according to Cotillo. Additionally, the Red Sox beat writer claims that because of their previous working connection, there is “mutual admiration between the two men.”

It’s a moot point now, however. Boston will be Cora’s home through the 2027 season. Additionally, Rob Thomson’s contract with the Phillies was just extended by one year, keeping him there through 2026. But if the Red Sox agreement had never come to be, would things have turned out differently?

As stated by Cora in May, “We’re not talking about contracts during the season.” But after a few months, something happened, and he had to rethink his perspective. The Boston supporters may rest easy knowing that it kept him from traveling to Philadelphia, whatever that may be.

The ‘epic journey’ of the Red Sox to win the 2004 World Series.

Growing up in Boston’s Dorchester neighborhood, the Red Sox held a special place in my heart. In an empty lot near the corner of Callender and Lucerne streets, we played baseball. As a daily tribute to Carl Yastrzemski, one of the larger left-handed hitters would yell, “Yaz!” after launching a bomb across the street; a home run occurred when it struck Callender. As a group of elementary school students, we twisted ourselves into geometric forms in an attempt to emulate the legendary right-hander Luis Tiant, who passed away on October 8.

My first significant Red Sox memory came from that World Series year, 1975. Three years later, when I was six years old, our fifth-grade teachers brought in televisions so we could watch the Sox vs. Yankees one-game playoff game before the afternoon school buses came.

The ’75 squad was all about happiness. Not winning was lamented, yet there was no dread, no panic, and no choking.

Then 1976 arrived. as well as 1978. And 1986, when the collapse was so catastrophic that it became a curse and attached itself to the past, proving that losing was both inevitable and a result of prior transgressions. One historical account gave way to another.

Colin Barnicle’s documentary, “The Comeback,” celebrates the 20th anniversary of the Red Sox’s 2004 World Series win and debuted on Netflix this week. As an executive producer on the project, I reflected on the emotions and significance of those events two decades later.

I’ve always felt torn between two worlds. Growing up, my favorite player was Dave Winfield, so I rooted for both the Red Sox and Yankees. As an adult, I covered the Yankees from 2001 to 2005, starting with the Bergen Record and then as a Red Sox columnist for the Boston Herald.

We all age with time, however some people age more readily than others. For example, Roger Clemens and Joe Torre, Kevin Millar and Theo Epstein, do not appear to be twenty years older. Others have had difficult years; Curt Schilling has been affected by health problems. Tim Wakefield, Jerry Remy, Larry Lucchino, Dave McCarty, Johnny Pesky, and Tiant have all passed away in the years after, but for others, time stole everything away.

Looking back 20 years later, one night in particular—Game 7 of the 2003 American League Championship Series—capsulated the two years Red Sox owner John Henry described as “an epic quest.”

The best baseball game I’ve ever seen live is Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS, but there are too many special moments and memories to list them all. Maybe this is all bullshit because I was also there when Arizona’s Luis Gonzalez defeated Mariano Rivera in Game 7 to win the 2001 World Series. Ten years later, I was also present when the Texas Rangers eliminated the 1986 Red Sox from the record books and took their place as the club that came closest to winning a title but didn’t.

Therefore, I stand by it even though it might all be hyperbole. These seven anecdotes from my coverage of the 2003 ALCS Game 7 highlight how memorable that evening was.