Phillies in 7, because beating the Yankees is so much more satisfying than beating the Rays, and because, though I am a Phillies’ fan, I, like you, true believers, want as much baseball as I can possibly have.  So even if it means a series of heart attacks from which I may never recover, seven games is what I expect, with extra innings to boot, at least one slugfest and one pitching duel, insane uses of bullpens and benches from both dugouts, Ryan Howard getting one significant hit off a lefty, Derek Jeter being insufferably always-getting-a-hit, and so on.  I hope to, at least once, pull my hair out as Charlie Manuel intentionally walks A-Rod with the bases empty. 

I could go on like this for a while.  In some ways, I’m happy just to be here.  It vindicates last year as a non-fluke.  On the other hand, I feel like last year I was eating the most delicious cake I had ever had, and now I’m being offered one that smells even better.  I want that cake.  Also a parade.  Who doesn’t love a parade?

Joe Buck will make a lame reference to Tim McCarver’s CD, prompting an equally clever producer to play a sound clip. Meanwhile, a despondent man in a small one-room apartment, alone with just a gun, his dog, and a TV will hear it and as his dog brays at Tim’s singing, the man will slip into the sweet hereafter—using the hound’s howl to muffle the shot.

Craig - you forget, Columbus IS playing for a championship! (Well, if the Crew gets through the playoffs…) Quite frankly, I’m surprised you don’t have tickets in the Nordecke section.

Your mayor should get ready to put up something at least as valuable as coffee and salmon, because that’s what Seattle will likely offer.

Dunno about the whole series, but as far as game one goes, I think Cliff Lee will be mostly unhittable, Chase Utley may hit a couple o’ taters off of an otherwise sharp CC, and the Yankees bullpen will look shaky and unreliable.

Not sure quite how I feel about game two.  I’ll know more in the morning…