World Series trip is a thing of dreams


Coco Crisp is there, too…and J.D. Drew, and Manny Ramirez, and they run and run and run but never seem to catch the line drives before they short-hop the 375 sign in left center.

And in my dream, Josh Beckett is not very happy about bloop singles, hanging curves and everything that happens at altitude, and Curt Schilling is wearing bronze armor and a helmet that may or may not have been endorsed by Leonidas himself.

In real life, outside of my dream, none of that will happen, except for maybe the part about Ortiz hobbling around with an oxygen tank. But this series still looks more unevenly matched than the Greeks and the Persians at Thermopylae.

(Ok, I’m not even sure I know what I mean by that…I watched 25 minutes of something on the History Channel to revive my brain after Tim McCarver’s astonishing revelation that sometimes, he really has no idea what’s going on. And I’m pretty sure that Dr. House is going to have to treat Bill Simmons after the shock that revelation was to his system. At any rate, it’s probably not a good idea to compare a series of baseball games to anything that requires a visit to wikipedia.com to figure out.)

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While I’m off-topic, this seems like as good a time to mention that Tom Brady is dead to me, and that I’m never, ever speaking of the 2007 fantasy football season again.

* * *

The Rockies have a potent lineup, a decent set of starting pitchers and a winning-streak genie in an open-sesame compartment of that humidor.

The Red Sox have Curt Schilling. As far as I know, Schilling does not have any super-powers, nor an evil genie that will let him un-wish whatever Colorado wishes for. But he does have a fantastic arm and a fantastic reputation as a post-season performer.

He’s got the bloody sock to prove it.

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On the other hand, the Rockies will have somewhere around 10 million NBA fans passionately ignoring the series, so there won’t be any pressure added by playing in front of a large TV audience.

That works in their favor at least as much as the thin air at Mile High.

* * *

Hockey season is also underway, and My Team is off to a fantastic start. Paul Stasny is among the league leaders in scoring, and it’s always fun to watch Joe Sakic make skating look like it requires no effort whatsoever.

I heard that the Toronto Maple Leafs and the Buffalo Bills are going to play a half-hockey, half-football exhibition some day. Or maybe that was just Shannon Sharpe enjoying the sound of his own voice a little too much.

* * *

I’ve really enjoyed the Rockies run, and I’m making every effort short of cutting off a pinky toe to get a ticket to the World Series. And if I get one, I’m giving it to my brother—I’ve been trying to figure out how to top a gift he gave me a few years back, and a Series pass might just do it.

He got me a vintage Quebec Nordiques sweater with Peter Forsberg’s name inscribed on the back out of the clear blue, and that has been awfully tough to top.

But if I can figure out how to get one ticket, maybe I can get two—after all, what would be better way to spend a Sunday night than going to a World Series game with your kid brother?


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