One more win.

One more win and we wash away 25 years of waiting, of suffering, of crying in our beer, of being branded losers.

If 1993 seems like a lifetime ago, when we watched as Mo Cheeks dunked to seal the Sixers’ world championship, that’s because it was.

1980, the last Phillies title, was even longer.

Now we are on the verge of redemption.

It’s been a fairly tumultuous weekend here in Phillies-land. First we had to endure water torture – literally – Saturday night. Game 3 of the World Series was supposed to start at 8:35.

I kind of had a bad feeling about this game for days. The forecast said it was supposed to rain most of the day Saturday. For once, the weather folks weren’t wrong. But they also indicated that it would start to clear up Saturday night. I just had a feeling that Major League Baseball and Fox were going to do whatever was necessary to squeeze that game in.

I wasn’t wrong. The game started after 10 p.m., the latest starting time ever for a World Series game. So much for deadline for the Sunday paper.

But instead of the last time we dealt with the misery of rain involving the Phillies in the playoffs (we’re still haunted by the sight of National League President Chub Feeney sitting in the pouring-down rain without a topcoat), this time it was the Phils who persevered.

They won in the wee hours.

Last night they made it easy on all of us. They crushed the Rays, 10-2.

It would appear the stars are aligned. Tonight they will send Cole Hamels – he of the 4-0 postseason record – to the mound to seal the deal.

Twenty-five years. That’s a quarter of a century. For many fans, it’s longer than they’ve been alive.

Think you can wait one more day?

Go Phillies.