10.18.2004
Best Playoff Round Ever?
With three of the first five games absolute classics, the Red Sox-Yankees series is shaping up to be one of baseball's best ever in the post-season. Lieber's performance in game 2 was pretty damn good, too, but the game didn't quite have the roaring, epic, chew-on-this magnitude of games 1, 4 and 5. The G and I were eating pho on Irving St. tonight when the waitress switched the channel from the 13th inning to Monday Night Football. I shouted in protest, much to the consternation of pretty much everyone else in the room. "Football, regular season! Baseball, playoffs!" I pleaded.
She switched it back.
Oh, and there's that little thing going on between Houston and St. Louis. Thanks to Fox not showing tonight's game on an alternate channel (which I wouldn't have watched anyway), I could only assume from all those zeroes and dueling one-hitters by Backe and Williams that it was check-your-underpants time for three hours straight. Until tonight the games haven't been quite as scintillating as in the ALCS, but pretty damn close: Rolen and Pujols back to back in the rain in Game 2. Beltran hitting one off his shoetops in Game 4, for which Julian Tavarez blamed the bullpen phone. Carlos, please don't sign with the Dodgers this winter. Tavarez, you are a stupid freak. Brad Lidge, don't try to fool us, you're really Robb Nen's healthy twin in an evil red jersey.
At this point, any World Series matchup is going to be great. The powerhouse Cardinals or Houston Clemenses vs the slugging, exhausted Yankees or Red Sox? Does Rocket throw Jeter a little early chin music to set the tone and wipe that gum-snappy grin off Derek's face? Who wouldn't stop on a sidewalk to peek into a bar and watch Pedro square off against Pujols?
It's almost enough to make you forget the bad news, of which I will only say this: Yes, it's all circumstantial. No, it doesn't look good. No, I won't be surprised if Bonds is ultimately revealed to be a user and a liar. I'm not a 10-year-old any more, wishing upon stars and hoping for heroes.
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She switched it back.
Oh, and there's that little thing going on between Houston and St. Louis. Thanks to Fox not showing tonight's game on an alternate channel (which I wouldn't have watched anyway), I could only assume from all those zeroes and dueling one-hitters by Backe and Williams that it was check-your-underpants time for three hours straight. Until tonight the games haven't been quite as scintillating as in the ALCS, but pretty damn close: Rolen and Pujols back to back in the rain in Game 2. Beltran hitting one off his shoetops in Game 4, for which Julian Tavarez blamed the bullpen phone. Carlos, please don't sign with the Dodgers this winter. Tavarez, you are a stupid freak. Brad Lidge, don't try to fool us, you're really Robb Nen's healthy twin in an evil red jersey.
At this point, any World Series matchup is going to be great. The powerhouse Cardinals or Houston Clemenses vs the slugging, exhausted Yankees or Red Sox? Does Rocket throw Jeter a little early chin music to set the tone and wipe that gum-snappy grin off Derek's face? Who wouldn't stop on a sidewalk to peek into a bar and watch Pedro square off against Pujols?
It's almost enough to make you forget the bad news, of which I will only say this: Yes, it's all circumstantial. No, it doesn't look good. No, I won't be surprised if Bonds is ultimately revealed to be a user and a liar. I'm not a 10-year-old any more, wishing upon stars and hoping for heroes.
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