The season's not over yet, not till tomorrow. It won't be till tomorrow that we know who won the wild cards (possibly not even tomorrow in either league, given all the ties), but it's over for my team and my sons' team. Sure, A's fans can hold their collective breath and see if Coco Crisp gets his fiftieth steal, or if Josh Willingham gets thirty home runs or a hundred RBIs, but, for the teams, the season is over. And the Pirates, you may have heard, not only failed to make the playoffs (more than I was willing to ask for), but racked up another losing season, breaking their own record. Again.
Although Giamatti has convinced me that sport is as worthy of my attention as art, still, at this point, I have to wonder: what was the point?
I mean --- I'm feeling happy for the Brewers and I'm always available to root against the Yankees --- yet all this ritual &c, I don't know.
I do like baseball, but maybe I'm not convinced it's as good as art.
Well. Let me retract. It's better than Transformers. Not as good as The Royal Tenenbaums.
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Incidentally, although I would love to see the Rays and the Cards get the WCs, smart money has to be on the Red Sox and the Cards.
I always liked the Cards (they were my #3 team as a kid) even though they've passed the A's on the alltime World Series win-list, and I hate the Braves (remember: Pirates fan), so that one's easy.
I like the plucky Rays, and now that the Red Sox have broken the curse, they're basically just mini-Yankees. (Yeah. I said it.)