It's hardly an original thought, but count me among those who believed that if the Phillies got past the Cardinals in the NLDS, the way to a World Series title would be pretty clear. Hell, who am I kidding? They would have won it. And David S. Cohen might even corroborate this, too, as we stared together in disbelief from our lofty perch in Section 307 to watch the sun go down on a marvelous 2011, with its sine qua non coda of a crumpled up, now wildly expensive Ryan Howard smoldering on the baseline as the Cardinals jumped all over the infield. Good times.
And now, in retrospect, I only have myself to blame. The overweening arrogance. The unrelenting, vaguely misanthropic playfulness. The focus on the negative, ever since I started up around here. My nasty, public Internet breakup with Mr. Positive after he persistently ignored my requests for an interview. My empty poetic tank when I saw the squirrel romp across home plate in St. Louis. And my muse was gone all year.
In short, I am very, very bad. And very sad. And I only have myself to blame for not bringing the requisite amount of grit and hustle to the blog this year. So I resolved, shortly after the game 5 loss, to write a great World Series preview to make up for it.
But what was there to write? The Cardinals were going to win. I knew it then. And I didn't really know much at all about the Texas Rangers, except for the fact that Elvis Andus had a pretty sucky 2010, caught as he was in the cellar-dwelling version of fantasy Team Wet Luzinski, and that Cliff Lee pitched for them for a bit.
So I didn't write it. I'm really sorry. I wasted a lot of time as the slush fell today, the saddest day of the year, looking at pictures of my college buddy who was at game 7 in St. Louis last night. It hurt. Blame me if you must. I deserve it.
Johnny Cash - We'll Meet Again (via mawrazen)