I want a ring. I would have been as excited after beating the Twins.

That all said, I fucking haaaaaaate the Yankees. I hate their smug attitudes. I hate that it seems totally acceptable for me to heckle them about dead family members (hi, Paul O’Neill!) because they are so congenitally evil. Recall Leyritz’s interview where he said he was rooting for the Yanks. What an asshole. Who looks like a biker Hector Elizondo. If you like baseball, you root for the Red Sox in that series, and baseball has been berry, berry good to Leyritz. More later. I’m late for class.

I root against the Yankees since I root against the house. As I explained to a friend last night—the Sox aren’t the team of virtue. They’re just a few mill less evil than the Yanks. But the Yanks built the despicable camp, and they’re the head that needs to be chopped off.

As you know, Pete, I’m a huge Brazil fan. The greatest soccer national team ever—more World Cups by two than any other nation. In a way, the Yankees of soccer, except for instead of buying cups, they economically depress a huge portion of the population who turns to soccer to make money or something. My point here is, if Brazil were playing a team with a great history of choking spectacularly against them (hi, Italy!), would I, should Brazil fall behind and then equalise, start cheering “Baaaggio…. Baaaaaggio”? Of course not. I want my team to win, first.

I’ll root against Italy in all the other matches they play. Fucking Italians.

I gotta say. I loved the whole “A-Rod to the Sox” thing, since I liked getting rid of Nomar. But in a way, I’m relishing his plunge into goat status in New York.

To which I offer this: http://hexachord.net/alcs/

Up two games on the Cards, I’m liking things. I wanted to go 1-1, so as to make a six or seven-game series more likely, but, I think I’ll take a WS win without my being in Boston to celebrate it.

Did I just jinx? No. Fuck you.

Also, Puma, the “Curse” had nothing to do with the Yankees and everything to do with the Sox. If you’re a curse adherent/crypto-anti-Semite, then the Sox must beat the Yanks so that, again, in Game 7, they can collapse utterly, another ring missing.

If you listen to the “Impossible Dream” from 1967, there’s such a sense of elation among the description, even though the Sox lost the Series. It’s funny to hear no gloom, no doom, no talk of curses, nothing. It’s the World Series that “no one won,” since both teams were great—the Sox came back from a terrible season to win the pennant, and the Cards were good, too. That’s part of why I can’t hate on the Cards; they beat us in a WS that had a winner only since these things, contractually, must.