Ever had a lot of stress that's led to a week of bad dreams? Weird, inexplicable nightmares where the worst just keeps happening no matter what you do or where you turn? You're hysterically running away from something, someone, yourself, maybe. Abandonment, perhaps. Your wife or girlfriend has left you for someone clearly better and it's in your face. You're a kid and your parents leave without so much as a goodbye and you're all alone. Apocalypse, maybe. Everyone you know and love dies, the world crumbles beneath your feet. Disaster to the nth degree, mayhem.
Now, let's put this nightmare in a baseball perspective. Your team makes the playoffs even though, by virtue of the way they've been playing the last 3 months of the season, they really don't deserve it, but for some inexplicable reason, they're there. The team gets all cocky. The owner starts talking about giving the GM a huge contract extension. People buzz about your right fielder as an MVP candidate. But all along, deep down, you know something isn't right - something doesn't make sense, but you try to ignore the feeling. Now, your team is only 1 game away from wrapping up the division title, playing against three of the worst teams in the league. But they never do win that one game. Their closer blows a 3 run lead in the 9th. They just keep playing worse and worse and worse. There's all this champagne in the locker room that never gets opened. Suddenly, even though they weren't hitting very well before, now they don't hit at all. They don't pitch, they don't field, their best player, a sure Hall of Famer until his steroid use was exposed earlier in the season, strikes out every single at bat. Doesn't even come close to making contact. And the team that was 15 games behind you in early June is about to sweep you and take away your division title. Then, suddenly, YOUR TEAM is the Wild Card team after leading the division the entire season. Your team's unspeakably awful play leads them into Philadelphia where they lose 2 quick ones and end up getting shut down at the Ravine in Game 3. Man, dreams are weird! It's ok, though. Let it ride. I mean, it's just a nightmare. It's not really going to happen. You're gonna wake up, right? ... Right? ... Right?
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Tony LaRussa is a drunk. Joe Torre only drinks green tea. Advantage Dodgers. Los Angeles has lots of hot chicks. St. Louis has lots of fat chicks. Advantage Dodgers. Los Angeles is the entertainment capital of the world. It has the Spruce Goose, the Queen Mary and the Hollywood Walk of Fame. St. Louis is the capital of nothing in particular and has a big arch that Gustave Eiffel would see fit to shit on. Again, advantage Dodgers. On the other hand, Man-Ram is a washed up juice monkey who can no longer square up plus-fastballs and the Dodger pitching rotation is as thin as Karen Carpenter's waist. Cards in three.
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