Back in my university days I was a big fan of pro wrestling. I can't say why, exactly, but I suspect it had something to do with the clear delineation of good and evil in the personae of the wrestlers (or some other bullshit, I don't know). The bar I worked at in those days used to organize parties around various wrestling pay-per-view events. Me and my friends would all go to cheer our heroes on the big screen and get really drunk.
At one of these events there was a title match between my favorite wrestler, Bret "The Hitman" Hart, and his arch nemesis at that time, "Razor" Ramone. Of course by the time the title fight came on we were all pretty well-lubricated. At one point in the match The Hitman had pinned Ramone and the ref was counting "one, two..." At that moment excitement got the better of me and I leaped out of my seat, punched my fist in the air, and yelled "yes!!" A split second later I came to my senses and noticed my friends looking at me with a curious mix of amusement and envy.
For a brief moment I had forgotten that none of it was real.