I realized some things while I was watching the first game of the World Series last night. For example, I realized that I love Michael Young because Michael Young is the Derek Jeter of Texas, and that Chris Carpenter doesn't have to fully button his jersey because he's the only good pitcher left in all of baseball. Most notably, though, I realized that my friend Sam Hockley-Smith plays for the St. Louis Cardinals:
You may know Sam from his day job where, like Clark Kent, he wears glasses and writes about stuff:
Sam, is Albert Pujols really a robot? Also, are you going to win the World Series?
There were a lot of babies on the World Series podium this year, which felt new. Should we blame/credit Drew Brees? Lance Berkman got to carry the trophy because, despite having four daughters, he was childless through the awards ceremony. Babies are taking over the world and it scares me.
Most World Series championships are bittersweet-- they mean that baseball's over for the year and that we have to do other things, like play Fantasy Football and read books. Thanks very much for another memorable year, baseball. I love you. Thank you. Goodnight.
