I debated whether I should give you a rousing introduction, packed with fake THIS IS LIFE OR DEATH FOR THE CARDS excitement, so you would get all pumped up to read (what I am sure will turn into) approximately 43 pages of baseball ridiculousness. But I already mentioned how much I care about this World Series, so like? No point in being a phony bitch. Instead, I promise you snark, unconnected references to fried chicken and beer, random musings about my love for Fat Elvis, unfounded cocaine rumors in Texas, and a semi-coherent recap with offensive color commentary. We both win. Hopefully the Rangers will win, too. Not because I care, but because they will prove me right (in my prediction). And then we can move on to college basketball accordingly, without feeling guilty for being done with baseball just because the Yankees are out of it. I am still not bitter, I swear. Here are tonight’s line-ups:
Texas: 1. Kinsler (2B), 2. Andrus (SS), 3. Hamilton (LF), 4. Young (1B), 5. Beltre (3B), 6. Cruz (RF), 7. Napoli (C), 8. Gentry (CF), 9. Lewis (P).
St. Louis: 1. Furcal (SS), 2. Schumaker (CF), 3. Pujols (1B), 4. Berkman (RF), 5. Holliday (LF), 6. Freese (3B), 7. Molina (C), 8. Punto (2B), 9. Garcia (P).
I mean, on paper, you have to give the edge to St. Louis. If their line-up fired on all cylinders more often, they would be unbelievable. But this is the post-season. And tonight, as usual, will come down to pitching. If I was Ron Washington, I would manage this game as if it was Game 7, because I do not want a championship to hinge on the weather-assisted, better-rested Chris Carpenter. If that means a few extra lines in the clubhouse during the seventh-inning stretch, so be it. I’d already be dreaming about that big float with my little imposter. And, of course, the celebratory eight-ball that my dealer brings me after we win. Let’s do this.