Baseball indigestion and monkey murder

People it is playoff time and I am not sure whether I like that or not. At playoff time I get indigestion. What is it about sports teams that gets you so hooked into them, makes them such a part of your world? I distinctly remember when the Yankees lost to the f****ing Red Sox last year in the American League Championship Series. I was depressed for about a week afterwards. I kept thinking why does this effect me so. But it was there none the less.

So this year I am holding my breath while I watch my beloved Yanks take on the Angels (stupidly called now the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim). I remember the Yanks lost to the Angels a couple of years ago. Mostly I remember that stupid rally monkey. I hated that damn monkey. No, really. And I usually love monkeys.

Nevertheless, I am on pins and needles waiting to see what will happen. I think that is what I love about baseball. You don't know what will happen next. There isn't any obvious end to the story. It won't follow a formula per se. Of course good players are better than bad, good pitching always beats good hitting, and statistics for batting with runners in scoring position mean nothing. But in the end I had no idea the Yankees would lose last year and though I think I can predict this year's World Series teams, I don't really know what will happen.

I only know that I will be watching and waiting with lots of Tums to help my indigestion. And soon we will know who will be happy this off season while the rest of us are miserably waiting for Spring Training. In my head there is a post rolling around about my other beloved team, The Washington Nationals, who are already waiting for the Spring. For those of you who don't have this baseball bug, I feel for you. I spent much of my life that way, and believe me it is way better on this side of the fence. Now get me a gag for that damn monkey and hand me my Tums. Go Yanks!!!!