One morning, while Nate Graziano was waking up from anxious dreams, he discovered that The Boston Red Sox were on the brink of winning their second World Series in four years...
The idea of The Red Sox winning another World Series seems as absurd to me as waking up to find that I've morphed into a giant cockroach (although I don't doubt that some on my ex-girlfriends routinely wish for that). I mean, seriously. Are The Sox really up three games in the fucking World Series, on track to sweep a team that continues to remind us that the National League is basically glorified Triple-A ball?
Here's what I'm going to do, and if the Sox lose this series, I'll take full responsibility for it. I'll become the e-Bartman. But I'm planning to buy a bottle of champagne this afternoon, and it will be chilling in my fridge during the Pats game, waiting and breathing beside a jar of Spanish olives.
Here's the plan: I encourage everyone reading this blog to join me and purchase a bottle of cheap champagne today(if you're...cough, cough...of age, that is). It doesn't matter if you're a Sox fan or not. Have it in your fridge. And if the Sox win tonight, send me a picture of you opening it. I'll post them here, beside my own. I've been wearing the same clothes since Game 5 in Cleveland. You'll see the outfit that my wife has termed "disgusting."
Let's do this. Go Sox!