Baseball, Jesus!

The aftermath.

Sheesh, it's amazing. The World Series, for me, cannot possibly top what we've just been through. And yet, three days from now we enter the breach again.

Some random thoughts...

1. I can't decide who I would rather see in the WS. Houston has Clemens, St. Louis has 1946. Either way, f*ck the Yankees.

2. Some quotes from around the horn..

"They played better than us. That's basically it. You can come up with this or that, but the bottom line is that they beat us." - Short-Rod (Derek Jeter)

"Now they'll go back to the drawing board with next year in mind and a newfound hunger in their collective belly. Losing in the World Series to the best team in the other league is one thing -- failing four times in a row to dispatch their bitter rival is quite another. It will stick in their craw for the entire winter, even if they pretend that it doesn't matter. "
-www.newyorkyankees.com

"I said, 'Don't let us win Game 4.' If we win Game 4, that gets us to Pedro Martinez, and then that would get us to Curt Schilling." -Kevin Millar

3. Here's the secret: Josh had Smithwick's all night, didn't smoke, and ate H-to-da-arry Browne's buffalo wings only. Me, I had no Red Sox hat on, listened to Dokken, and drank Raspberry Wheat beer. What's your talisman?

4. I gotta figure out travel plans today or tomorrow. Boy, my mom's gonna be pissed when she finds out I can't come home for Thanksgiving because I'm coming home for the WS.

5. We the people (that is, the Annapolis chapter of Red Sox Nation), made a valiant effort to help break the c-word. At Harry Browne's there was an auction last night of Sox/Ball Lickers memorabilia. The only thing we could afford was a baseball signed by Don Zimmer.

Our plan was simple; bid on the ball, win it, take it out on the street during the seventh inning stretch, burn it, and urinate on it to put out the charred remains. (Boy, beer does that to you, huh?)

We made the bid, but at the last second a bastard outbid us (literally at the last second.) Well, we must of looked really upset, because the winner approached us looking bothered and said,

"You can have the ball if you want. I didn't realize how important it was to you. Why do you want it so bad?"

My compadre Josh began making some story up, but Captain Adam Beer Pants decided to give him the abridged version.

"We want to take the ball outside, burn it in the street, and then piss on it. Go Sox."

To which he replied,

"No, seriously. Why do you want it?"

"We want to take the ball outside, burn it in the street, and then piss on it. Go Sox."

He says,

"But, I'm from New York."

I say,

"Well, then. How about this. You can hold the ball while we're doing it."

Needless to say, we didn't get the ball.

Go Sox. Go.