Bill Buckner and Mookie Wilson share their thrill of victory/agony of defeat moment to their mutual benefit:

There is a sixth stage of grief, it turns out, when it comes to sports infamy. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. And, finally, monetization. Wilson and Buckner have been cashing in on Game 6 of the 1986 World Series for longer than they can remember now.

“Oh, man. How many years?” Buckner asks his partner.

“We started kind of late – maybe four or five years after,” Wilson replies.

“It was almost like, ‘If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em,'” Buckner says.

“That’s a good way of putting it! That’s exactly it right there!” Wilson laughs.

Here’s one of the few jokes I ever wrote:

In the winter after the 1986 World Series, Bill Buckner was driving John McNamara and Davey Johnson to his hunting cabin in the mountains. A huge storm came up suddenly, and Buckner drove the car off a cliff, killing all three.

They get to heaven, and God feels bad for Davey and John, since they won’t get to manage the all-star game. “Why don’t you two pick teams from all the greats in the afterlife? Davey, you get the first pick because you won the series. Take a first baseman.”

Davey says, “I’ll take Lou Gehrig.”

God then asks McNamara, “Who do you want at first base?”

John says, “Bill Buckner.”

God is surprised. “With all the talent in heaven, you choose Buckner?”

McNamara replies, “Well, he’s the one who got us here!”