Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Somewhere a Ghostrunner is Smiling
Holy goddamn, but Rocco Baldelli turned on that Madsen offering. This has been, maybe, the strangest World Series ever -- barring maybe that earthquake thing in '89 -- and a dinger by a previously hitless right fielder who's just come back from a ton of time off while he battled a mitochondrial disorder is pretty much fitting.
Truthfully, I've gone back and forth on who to root for in this one because there's no natural object of my hatred. The Rays are just a feel-good story in search of a storybook ending, and as much as folks might try to manufacture a Jays-Phils rivalry (based on one World Series, I suppose), they really don't raise my ire. Besides, they've got Stairs.
But I think I've settled on the Rays though, because I'm drawn to stories of misery and self-loathing. Imagine the sheer intensity of the navel-gazing the city of Philadelphia would do if they came so close, only to have Mother Nature intervene and turn the tide of the Series. Holy shit, that'd be wondrously painful for a whole lot of people.
Also, the Rays kind of have a '69 Mets vibe happening, which is appealing, no?
Of course, as Pat the Bat leads off the bottom of the seventh with a double, this one just might be done regardless of who I'm maybe kind of sorta pulling for in a halfhearted manner.
UPDATE: And Then That Happened
As per usual, life isn't waiting for me to make up my mind. Phils win, Phils win. Just me, or was that a particularly boring victory celebration? I guess we've seen it all by now, but that sequence where we saw the reaction of every single Phillies position player when the last out was recorded -- that was a bit painful, was it not? I don't know how to spice it up, but it all seems a bit rote these days.
Anyway, regarding Rocco and the Rays, it's like my dad told me once. On the topic of happiness, he said, "You only get moments. Rare, rare moments."
And regarding baseball season: holy shit, it's over.