Wednesday, October 8, 2008

My picks for The World Series

Let me start with the National League because, for me, it's not a real league, unless The Sox make the World Series and must efficiently dismantle one of those bands of rogues who don't even have the decency to use a DH.

The Los Angeles Dodgers. After the Manny trade, which Bill Simmons wrote a most excellent article about, The Dodgers became a blip on my baseball radar. In fact, before the trade, I was quasi-rooting for them to do something that Joe Torre could ram right up the asses of Yankee ownership and fans everywhere, and lo, now they're one of the final four teams left in baseball. Where is Joe Girardi these days? Maybe Fox Sports took pity on his sad ass and brought him back an as analyst, or maybe he's stacking cans of Fancy Feast at a supermarket in Long Island. Who cares? Baseball's most bloated budget really fielded a dream team this year, huh? And next year, when The Evil Empire swoons down with their bag of blood-money made on their new stadium and steals Manny away from his new favorite place in the world, LaLa Land, may the same curse of mediocrity befall them again, in their new House of Overpaid Losers. But watching the Dodgers right now is bitter-sweet. If there were to be a Sox/Dodgers Series, it would be fun to hear Manny's homecoming greeting from the Fenway Faithful---guarantee it will make Johnny Damon's first game back look like a group hug---and it is nice to see Torre taking another team into October while A-Rod sits at home and counts his money like Dickensian villain. Then there's Derek Lowe---an alcoholic, philandering, man-child. In other words, my kind of dude. However, those poor fucking Cubbies fans. Jesus, if John McCain is elected, I think Chicago might burn to the ground.

The Philadelphia Phillies. Other than the fact that Ryan Howard may be one of the largest and most dangerous black men since The Sandman in Mike Tyson's Punchout---does anyone remember that son of a bitch? I blame my inability to show love in my adult life on the beatings I took from him---I really know very little about this team. Let's see. There's Chase Utley. Has there ever been a whiter name than Chase Utley? He sounds like he should doing crew at Phillips-Exeter Academy. "Hey, Chase, can you explain to me what a sub-prime loan really is?" But The Phillies took The Mets out of the playoffs, so they get props for making the city of New York a little more miserable this winter. Other than that, I got nothing. Like I said, The NL is not a real league. For me, they might as well be Hobbits competing in some strange game that involves a wicker basket and a yarn ball where Leonard Nemoy does both the play-by-play and analysis.

My pick: The Dodgers in 6 games.

Now to The American League, something I know only slightly more about; however, being a man who has talked out his ass for 33 years now, I do not find it even slightly daunting to act like I know what I'm saying.

The Tampa Bay Rays. What happened to the Devil in the old Devil Rays? I liked the Devil, loved him even. Now the Devil is gone, and in its place is this strange team that seems to have come out nowhere. Actually, that's not true. At first, I thought they were sent by some Prime Mover who controls all that is good and evil in the baseball world (hence, the dumping The Devil) simply to teach The New York Yankees a lesson about avarice by having The Rays finish ahead of them. But as I waited and waited for their Lindsay Lohan-like collapse, it never happened. Now they've become analogous to that girl in high school who was pimply, a little overweight and on the bad side of butt-ugly, who shows up at the 10-year reunion trimmed-down, made-over and showing her enough cleavage to make you painfully aware of the fact that she'll never, regardless of the circumstance, ever sleep with your sad, flabby, drunken ass, nor any of your now-loser buddies who are organizing a Beirut tournament at an afterhours party. Did I say never? Oh yeah, and she changed her name, too. I spent the past ten years making fun of the Rays, now I'm staring at the very real possibility that they might eliminate my Sox, dash their dreams of becoming the first team in nearly a decade to win back-to-back World Series (I can't remember the last the team). To finish my analogy, let's say Crawford is the left tit; Longoria the right one; Carlos Pena the bush (groomed to a landing strip); Garza the left leg; Shields the right; Kazmir the tight ass; and shimmying in a little slink dress, pulling it all together, there's Joe Madden. Okay, Joe Madden's face on a female body just ruined it. Reciprocally, I hope I just ruined The Rays.

The Boston Red Sox. The Boys from Beantown, The Olde Towne Team have, somehow, against all probable odds, made it back to The ALCS. They have a banged up Mike Lowell, a recovering JD Drew, a Josh Beckett who barely resembled his stunning playoff self (that sounded gay, didn't it?), and a dismantled 3-4 line-up that was arguably the most lethal hitting duo since Ruth/Gehrig. But now they have youth and energy, and a couple of guys in the infield---Pedroia and Youk---who have to at least be included in MVP conversations. They have baseball's next left-handed ace in Jon Lester, and I'll always feel comfortable, Manny or no Manny, when the game is on the line and Big Papi grabs a bat. No, this is not a team as colorful as the cardiac Idiots of 2004, but they're professional, especially Jason Bay who came over when Theo sent Madonna to a place where he might land a cameo on Entourage someday, smoking a joint with Turtle. That's assuming it's before the Evil Empire, now headed by Hank "Every Bit the Douche Bag as Dear Old Dad" Steinbrenner, scoops him up by the dreadlocks and transplants him to The New Stadium. Listen, I still have to pinch myself when I stop and think that five years ago I was sitting in catatonic state in a rocking chair after Aaron Fucking Boone's blast in Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS, convinced that the Sox would never win a World Series in my lifetime---which is why you'll never see me laughing at Cubs fans. But here they are today, seven wins from their third World Series in five years, sealing the deal on becoming a veritable dynasty. Goddamn it. If The Rays beat them, it will be the work of The Devil. God is clearly not looking over our economy right now, so he must be watching The Sox.
My pick: The Sox sweep!

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