And, look, they were even kind enough to include the Dominican busboy in their manwich.

Reader, Rachel would really like to see her words on Deadspin so I figured I'd oblige.

In an effort to feed my own narcissistic needs to see my words on Deadspin and dazzle you with my literary (sarcastic blogging) capabilities, I felt the need to share a couple of things about my first World Series experience as a Yankees fan (and hate if you must, but my fan-dom happened before they started winning, so it still counts). If my boyfriend were writing to you, he'd probably have you title it, "Unruly Spoiled Worshipers of Evil Empire Spread Gospel of Hate in New York City." I on the other hand, would call this post "The Only Time Your Boyfriend/Husband/Friend-With-Benefits/Guy-You-Met-8-Seconds-Ago Is Truly Not Thinking About T&A".

And why not? Well, World Series Game 6 was the most blatant display of man love I've ever seen. Not only was I with a group of 15 guys who jumped around in a euphoric, sexually non-denominational frenzy, but "strangers" (in quotations because oooobviously if you are a Yankee fan you aren't a stranger) were at risk for getting the tongue too. And so, I thank the Yankees. I thank them for being the only thing that could possibly have caused grown (relatively speaking) men to not only openly express their love for one another and baseball, but also for allowing me to be in a bar full of hammered morons without risk of being bent over the bar and violated. Oh, and there's also something awesome about celebrating with the Dominican busboy....

Pictures attached. Not that it's the greatest thing ever written, but I'm thinking you should at least seriously consider a World Series Bromance montage. I mean, that ARod-Jeter couple halloween costume is great, but drunk idiots are better.

Thanks, AJ!!

Rschau

Thank you, Rachel. Now you and your homo Yankee friends can politely go fuck yourselves.

Good morning. It's Saturday. Let's break stuff.

First pitch is in an hour or so. Please use this as your open thread. A new era of Yankee exceptionalism begins presently. I can't wait!

Photo by Stephanie Wei

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Thanks for your continued support of Deadspin.

Line up changes for tonight. We have a Matt Stairs sighting! He'll DH for Philly. For the Yankees, Swisher and Posada are out, Hairston and Molina (to catch Burnett) are in. Fortunately for New York, their opponent also has to replace Cliff Lee and his magic glove. Pedro Martinez gets one more chance to take down the hated Yankees before he's cast out into the Atlantic on a flaming barge.

WHAT WILL HAPPEN? WHO WILL PREVAIL? WILL I HAVE ENOUGH NACHOS TO LAST PAST THE SIXTH INNING! I can't wait to find out the answers. Especially the nachos one.

[Photo by reader Brian B.]

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I would rather starve than eat your pizza rolls. Barry P. is on deck with some designated hitting of his own. Thanks you for you continued support Peter King's trainer.

I don't know about you, but my favorite place to get fired up before any big game is the McDonald's in Pennsville, NJ. You know the one. Not only do they have way better fries than the ones across the river in Delaware, but there are always celebrities hanging out there. And because it's McDonald's, they aren't going to give you a lot attitude because ... McDonald's is awesome! You can't not have fun there!

Remind me to tell you about the time Mayor McCheese drank my milkshake. Drank it right up.

Pennsville McDonald's Phillies Pep Rally! [NJ.com]

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Oh, gosh it's Thursday isn't it? How will we ever make it through?

•At least one of the six umpires was actually paying attention, but bad calls wouldn't have made a difference anyway. Cliff Lee was nigh unhittable, and Philadelphia takes the opener.

•Had your fill of high-and-mighty Pennsylvanians yet? Sidney Crosby had a hat trick by the second intermission, and the Penguins have the best record in the east. But don't expect to hear about it from the fans; they can't hop on while their Steelers bandwagon is still moving.

•The Chiefs suspend Larry Johnson for two weeks, which is really just one game and the bye week. Normally teams are loathe to lose the production from their star, but I'm not sure they'll notice his 2.7 yards per carry when it's missing.

•Maybe it's foolish to panic after two games, but...maybe LeBron should start panicking after two games. His triple-double goes for naught as Toronto sends the Cavs to their first 0-2 start since his second season.

•Orlando Thomas: not dead! Which is good. He's still battling ALS though, which isn't good.

•The Buccaneers name first round pick Josh Freeman their starter, because what's the point of benching your talented young QB when you're not winning anyway? Apparently the Titans also have a young rookie they should be starting, one Vince Young. Haven't heard much about him.

•Finally, it's been making the rounds all day: the behind-the-back touchdown pass.

There's no point in previews or predictions at this stage (I think there will be at least four games ... and three groin pulls) so just go ahead and open thread your brains out below. Angry rants and trash talk are more than welcome, but anyone who says "an A-bomb from A-Rod!" is automatically banned. Now go get some.

[Photo: Getty]

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Barry P. will have some other nonsense for you later. Thank you for your continued support of the Deadspin Dream Factory.

It happens four times a year. The papers in the two cities facing off for the championship in any sport will, without fail, run a column bashing their counterpart. It's often about food, or landmarks, or celebrities, but it's a given that none of it is sports-related in the least. Let's take a look at the NY-Philly catfight.

•The New York Post started the day off with a doozy of a cover, but the accompanying story is pretty weak. The usual platitudes about Philadelphia being small and their fans boorish abound.
Best line: "Philly fans are a bunch of whiners and should learn how to dress. They should try reading GQ."

•The Philadelphia Inquirer gets surprisingly offensive, devoting an article to picking holes in the Post's story. It even takes the time to point out that those probably aren't really Shane Victorino's legs on the cover.
Best line: "Check out the [Post's] 'evidence' in a story that, apparently, took three people to write."

•The New York Daily News takes the "aww, aren't they precious" tact, and belittles Philadelphians' confidence. They call the Phanatic a "pig-nosed monster" and actually use the term "Sillydelphia."
Best line: "What makes this city of 109 neighborhoods - with names like Germantown, Fishtown and Swamp Poodle - unafraid?"

•Stuck in neutral territory, the Newark Star-Ledger goes the tried-and-true "this thing from this city vs. this thing from that city" route. Comparisons of local delicacies, noted figures (historic and fictional) and even accents are arbitary and stereotypical enough to offend both sides.
Best line: "Every March 17, green puke runs down Fifth Avenue. Every Jan. 1, soused Mummers at least have the decency to puke into their satin parasols."

•Even the Associated Press gets in on the fun. It's a mostly dry breakdown of how the cities match up, alongside a photo of Philadelphia's mayor do-si-do-ing with the Phanatic.
Best line: "The Yankees and Phillies have never been real rivals. New York has a record 26 World Series titles and the Statue of Liberty; Philadelphia has two and a statue of 'Rocky.'"

While I didn't highlight it, rest assured that every single article prominently mentioned cheesesteaks. What's that, Deadspin readers? You're from the rest of the country and don't give a crap about this showdown? Carry on, then.

Video - Phillies Fan Dry Humps NBC Philadelphia's Claudia Rivera [Bob's Blitz]

I guess this poor kid fell asleep during the Phillies celebration last night and dirty hooligans decided to take the Sharpie to him. That's a shame. Fortunately, the boy has so many O'Doul's in him that he just doesn't care.

Since I was not in Philadelphia last night and all communication with the city has been cut off, I'm not sure if this was just good-natured revelry or if Center City is still in flames. Normally, I turn to Fox News for the real truth, but these two headlines from two nearly identical Fox affiliates do not clear up the matter. One seems to suggest that all is well ...

Fans Spend Night Partying In Streets

... but the New York market sees things a little differently ...

Phillies Fans Out of Control

Nope, this World Series isn't going to be annoying at all.

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Please let it be Friday? Shoot.

The premise of the bit was an interview with the members of the Padilla Flotilla—it rhymes if you're actually a member of the Spanish Armada—who used to be the personal fan club of Vicente Padilla, but have renounced their hero since he's pitching for the Dodgers tonight. Then a cab driver in a Yankee jersey drove by and started heckling them. So Jerrick, always the professional, chased the cabbie off with cardboard boat oar. He then continued the interview by asking if these youngsters, seeking a new Phillie hero to throw their allegiance behind, could "ride the Cooch Train?"

Thank heavens he didn't direct that question toward the girl or this post would have a very different set of tags. The female anchor politely pointed out that Jerrick was actually referring to the Chooch Train, in honor of Carlos Ruiz. Believe it or not, there are actually two Chooch fan clubs fighting for Chooch supremacy. Mike Alfonso, leader of the "Chooch-Chooch Train" demands that his group be granted the true Chooch throne.

"We tailgate with authentic Panamanian beer and an inflatable sombrero beer cooler - all approved by Ivan the Cart Guy, who works outside my building and is from Panama," Alfonso wrote.

Wait, there's more. Philadelphia city workers have spent most of the day greasing light posts throughout the city, as if that would somehow stop a determined drunk from scaling one tonight.

So it's come to this, Philly? Ivan The Cart Guy is the arbiter of taste? Greased poles and inflatable sombrero beer coolers? Could Yankee fans actually end up looking like the civilized ones here?

Although, I have to grudgingly admit that this is pretty cool. Now go home and get your shine box.

Padilla Flotilla [Fox29]
All aboar+d the Chooch-Chooch Train [Daily News]
Quite Possibly The Greatest Thing Ever [The Fightins]

Edgy: Citizens Bank Park opened in 2004, by which point our stadium builders had clearly run out of ideas. With the lone exception of a blinking neon Liberty Bell in right, there is nothing to distinguish the place from something that might've gone up in, say, Charlotte. There is plenty of contrived personality, though. Set down in a cluster of parking lots in industrial South Philly, CBP nevertheless pretends to be an old-style ballpark squeezed into a tiny downtown lot. The outfield walls zig and zag simply because, once upon a time, outfield walls used to zig and zag — never mind that they did so because the site required it, as at Fenway. Today, the asymmetrical outfields serve no purpose other than to signal a quirkiness that the ballparks don't actually possess. They're the pre-ripped jeans of stadium design.

Now, you could plausibly defend the practice elsewhere on the grounds that it's entertaining to watch outfielders run a steeple chase any time someone sends a ball down the alleys. At Citizens Bank Park, however, this feels doubly wrong. This is Philadelphia, American midwife of the open grid, a city that prized, and even fetishized, rational design and geometric precision. Philly was the New World. Boston, with the gypsy dips and turns of its streets, was decidedly Old World; the lyric little bandbox that sprang out of its marshland naturally inherited the pompous whimsy of its city. This was nothing to get wistful over. Americans spent the 20th century working feverishly to flee such cramped conditions, only to see their baseball stadiums, at the dawn of the next century, pay homage to those unloved olden days in a spasm of mindless and profitable nostalgia.

Alley oops: I generally don't go in for the corporate naming-rights hysteria, mostly because a lot of the outrage rests on the illusion that baseball was once about something more noble than making money, which it wasn't. But the Phillies could've and should've done better with their new stadium. Richie Ashburn Stadium would've been nice. Or why not, at minimum, Richie Ashburn Field at Citizens Bank Park? Ashburn was the player our television broadcasters now desperately want David Eckstein to be. He was a singles-hitting centerfielder who walked a ton and played with such a motor that Ted Williams nicknamed him "Put Put." He was everything you'd want in a ballplayer. He was Pete Rose without the sociopathy and the Racing Form. An honest-to-god gentleman. Bill James tells a great Richie Ashburn story:

One time Ashburn hit a line drive into the stands, striking a young woman in the side of the face and knocking her unconscious. The stadium gasped. Ashburn stepped out of the box and watched in alarm as medics rushed to her side. In a few minutes the woman revived, the stretcher came, and the ballgame resumed. And Ashburn hit another line drive foul, and struck the poor woman again as she was being carried out of the stadium.

Ashburn visited the woman in the hospital after the game, invited her to come down and meet the players, befriended her and her family, and corresponded with the woman for the rest of his life.

He became a beloved broadcaster, and not long after his death, in 1997, a great many fans asked that the Phillies name their expensive new baseball stadium for Ashburn. The request was of course denied. The ballpark opened in 2004, and above all else people praised the outfield walkway, one of those newfangled stadium corrals where teams try very hard to sell you shit you don't want and where folks who go to baseball games to do anything but watch baseball games can pass an afternoon. This was everything you hate about the modern baseball experience. This, they called Ashburn Alley.

The view from the stands (everything sic'd):

When I saw that you were taking submissions for Citizens Bank Park, the first thing that popped into my head is that you would get all of these responses that said, "Hey, even though the Phillies moved from the craphole /dump/ octorad /shitbox that was the Vet to the new nice/family-oriented/retro/corporate Citizens Bank Park the fans are still total mutants." That could not be any further from the truth. People who say that never actually sat in the 700 level. And yes, you can see horrible displays of drunken meatheads at Citizens Bank Park. It doesn't compare to what used to happen in the 700 level at Vet. Citizens Bank Park has yet to have a brawl in the stands so big that the players and umpires stopped what they were doing in order to watch it. There is no part of CBP that compares to sections 745 and 746 of the Vet, and nobody pees in trashcans at Citizens Bank Park.

The issue with Citizens Bank Park is that it attracts 30,000 more people a game and holds 20,000 less than the Vet. So it seems like there are more drunks and things are more out of control. It's not that there are more drunks. The issue is that there are more sober people to document what is happening. Citizens Bank Park has become the cool place for college kids and angry white kids to go. The Vet was the place to go for people who considered a pack of hotdogs and a plastic bottle of vodka as plans for a Wednesday afternoon.

For the first 2 or 3 years of Citizens Bank Park, the Phillies used to have "College Nights." College kids got a discount on tickets, a free t-shirt/hat and some kind of food discount. I was at a college night in May of 2006 and sitting in the 2nd level of the outfield. At one point in the late innings of the game, the drunken college kids in the 2nd and 3rd levels devised a game in which somebody in the 3rd level would throw a slice of pizza like a Frisbee while somebody in the 2nd level tried to catch it. Although a high percentage of the slices ended up in the first level or on the field, there were some amazing catches made.

My favorite Vet memory was sometime in the late 90's. And the Phillies were playing the Expos on a weekday night, maybe 13,000 people in the whole stadium at most and the stadium held 65,000. My friend and I are sitting section 752, and there is nobody within 4 sections of us. And we are drinking Hi-C with vodka dumped in it. Maybe around the 3rd or 4th inning, the security guard comes over to us. And he starts talking to us about how he met Vlad Guerrero earlier in the day and he had arms like a construction worker. Yep, he was that strong. So after about 10 minutes of talking to us, he looks at us and says, "You two are sitting way up here on a weekday night watching the Phillies and Expos play, nobody sitting within 4 sections of you. I sure hope you have some booze mixed in with that Hi-C you are drinking."

My second favorite memory of the Vet was sitting in the 500 level in the outfield in 1992 and tossing the bones from my chicken wings at Andy van Slyke during a game against the Pirates. Who would have known then that would be the last winning season for the Pirates? (Mike)

A recent story from july 4th weekend this year, mets at phils.

Being a mets fan, I expected a weekend series in philly to be an unpleasant experience, but 'fear for my life' was not exactly what I was looking for. As we made our way into the stadium, a man far older than my 26 years yelled at us and invited us to drink his cum. Now, what striked me most about this and many of the obnoxious fans is that these are grown men, not boorish teens. There is something seriously wrong with these people. However this was just a warm up to our exit from the stadium where a younger fella followed us through the slow moving upper deck crowd, down the escalators, and outside the stadium, yelling at me the whole time "Get a new shirt, Pedro [Martinez]" This guy then proclaimed he would escort us to our car. At this point, we realized we had the crossed the line from typical philly fan to psychotic nut. Luckily, we were able to lose him in the crowd. Congrats Philly, you easily have the title as the white trash capital of the US. (Daniel B.)

I have basically nothing bad to say about the CBP. There isn't a bad seat in the house, the beers are not that expensive (the WSJ backs me up on this), and the product has been excellent (I went to see the WFC win 11 straight games at CBP until I went to the Red Sox series this summer). I can't imagine anyone ever having a bad time there, except for one person. That person is Jeff Francoeur. I was sitting in the right field second deck a couple years back for a Phils-Braves game and every time poor Jeff took to left field, the left field bleachers began to chant "YOU SUCK PENIS! CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP". This made my night. I'm pretty sure he went 0-4 with subscription for Valtrex. (Jim)

I attended a Phillies game in 2007; a friend of mine hooked me up with some nice season tickets on the third base line. I didn't ask how he got them, cause I'm not an asshole.

As it turned out, he had never been there before, so it was something new for both of us. We got there a little early, just before third pitch. We looked around, and THERE IS NO SCOREBOARD. The action at the plate was to the right, but there was no scoreboard in front of us, unlike every other ballpark in the U.S. We looked around, and the scoreboard is some small piece of shit above left field, and we had to turn our heads FUCKING 120 DEGREES. Take it from me, that place is screwed, because every time you're sitting on the third base line and you want to know what the count is, you have to turn your neck that much. I was having major pains at the top of my spinal cord by the fourth inning. And as if that weren't enough, the beer tasted like donkey piss. So there you go. (J.R.)

It's important to first note that I'm a 14 game plan ticket holder and have been for the last 5 years - basically once I could finally afford it. I'm one of those people you'll hear complaints about pussifying the stadium by bringing his kid and wife - I consider it indoctrination, and neccesary, because you don't become a Phillies fan by choice. But I digress.

It's game 5, part 2, of the World Series (if you do why your commishoner sucks bud selig edition I call dibs), and I've learned the parking plan in the absurd sea of parking in south Philly has gone to shit by experiencing it in the prior games. Lots are closed before they're full, nobody knows where else to go, epic waits, etc.

As a result, my dad and I, end up in the tailgate friendly lot right on the side of the Linc. We go into the game and glory of Glories we win. We jump up and down like little girls and cheer until our voices are gone.

Still in disbelief, we giddly return to the car. As we approach, the ground behind it is shimmering. I chalked it up to the absurdity of the phils winning, at first. Then we get closer and I notice the liftgate window is 100% gone. Goodbye giddy feeling.

I look in the back and there is a Corbett champagne bottle or what remains of it. None of the cops nearby saw anything or have their report books so my insurance has to just take my word for it. Oh and the good part - did I mention it's a company car? And I work with mets/Yankees fans?

Nothing like winning a world f'ing series and having to take shit from mets fans about how my own kind smashed my window, cost me several hundred dollars, and threw hand grenades at Santa claus.

Ps- the guy who has season tickets and sits next to us typically was understandably excited after the big win and hugged his woman and jumped up and down. Seeing her tears, he assumes she is beyond happy and exclaims "I know! Isn't it great?". Once he let's go she crumple to her seat, still crying. Yeah, he broke her ribs. That pRt was awesome.

Sent from my iPhone (Peter S.)

Earlier this year, three buddies and I headed down to The Bank and grabbed 4 standing room only tickets. If you get to the park early enough you can park yourself at a standing post behind homeplate just above the lower seating section. It's a pretty good deal considering the people sitting 4 inches in front of you paid $70 for their tickets and the standing room tickets are only $18. (They were $12 previously, but when you team wins the World Series, there's profit to be had.)

About 45 minutes before game time the row directly in front of us fills up with a wide variety of college kids and one or two middle-aged women, all sporting the same lame homemade, sharpie scribbled t-shirts. As I was trying to figure out what lame company-sponsored "PHILLIES GAME 2009!!!!!" outing they were on, the entire row proceeds to stand and begin chanting "PURDY PURDY PURDY." One particularly obnoxious beer slut was holding a sign that read ‘Purdy's first pitch' so we held off judgment on the group, fearing that we could be drunkenly mocking a group there to support a 6-year-old with lupus or 23-year-old who had his nuts blown off in Iraq.

As it turned out, "Purdy" was a seemingly healthy 40 something year old man who only got to throw out the first pitch because his company makes the sticks that the corndogs at the park come on or something. Unfortunately, the purdy group decided that some random asshole throwing out one of the EIGHT "first pitches" thrown that day was worthy of chanting his name for THE ENTIRE GAME.

Around the 4th inning everyone in the section and standing around us had their fill of the group chanting PURDY after Carlos Ruiz drew an intentional walk. Around this point, above mentioned beer slut took a little too long waving her sign between innings, which prompted an usher to ask her to take her seat, which prompted equally drunk dude a few rows in front of us to be begin yelling at beer slut, which prompted beer slut to begin hitting equally drunk dude with Purdy sign.

Considering all the runs in the game were scored in the bottom of the 1st, it at least provided some sort of entertainment through the other 8 innings of the game and anytime a 40 something year old man can have one of the best days of his life ruined by his son's friends, brother's, girlfriend's, friend, it's a great day at the park. (Kyle G.)

I put my name in the drawing last year for playoff tickets for the Phillies, thinking, "The Mets can't possibly blow the division lead two years in a row, right?"

Well, you know how that turned out, and I bought two tickets to Game 2: Brett Myers vs. CC Sabathia. I went with my buddy Bill. We were both Indians fans, and we knew that with CC pitching, it would turn into batting practice for the Phils.

The PA announcer said, "We're going to go on national television, and we all needed to show the world what Philadephia fans were like." I waited for someone to throw a punch, but 45,000 fans waved their towels and yelled.

And then the starting lineups were announced, and everyone watching the game really got a taste of Philly fans. "First, for the visiting Milwaukee Brewers..." was the only part I heard. The fans started booing immediately, living up to Philadelphia's reputation.

There was a guy sitting behind us wearing a shirt that said, "I'm not mad, I'm from Philadelphia." When Sabathia was announced as the starting pitcher, the crowd started yelling "CC sucks! CC sucks! CC sucks!"

The game started, and another guy sitting behind me started yelling that the Phillies aren't getting any strikes called. I mean, he's livid, motherfucking the umpires up and down.

Our seats are in the upper level behind the right field foul pole.

The guy keeps screaming. Finally, the guy next to him says, "You're 400 fucking feet away. The umpire can see better than you. Shut the fuck up, Dad." (Vince G.)

Photo via dameetch's Flickr

Next up: Yankee Fucking Stadium. Got any horrible experiences to share? Send them to craggs@deadspin.com.

Sure you do:

To put this in terms Los Angelenos can comprehend, it's Bloods vs. the Crips.

We're red, the Bloods. The Dodgers are blue, the Crips.

An explanation for Philadelphians: The Crips and the Bloods are two mammoth street gangs born in L.A. The Crips, whose signature color is blue, are larger, with an estimated 30,000-35,000 members. Bloods, clad in red, are fewer, but are more violent. Both have branches throughout the U.S. and are composed of cold, conscienceless criminals who deal drugs and have lots of tattoos. They're like Hells Angels without wheels.

An editor here - yes, we do have them, and yes, I do speak with (a few of) them - cautioned me not to make light of street gangs. We know almost all gangbangers are ticketed for an early grave or a cozy jail cell. They're gangbangers when they're young, grocery baggers when they're old because they have no useful trade.

He calls the Dodger Crips "a bunch of Porsche-driving, starlet-chasing, cocaine-sniffing, surfboard-waxing, Armani-wearing, spritzer-drinking, sunshine-soaking, tofu-eating, leg-hair-waxing, sunglasses-wearing weinies [sic]," at which point the column suddenly becomes a bizarre mashup of Boyz n the Hood, Less Than Zero and Gidget. It goes on in this vein for a few hundred words, several of them fully capitalized. If you were to squint and cock your head, the column would begin to look like the sort of thing you could reproduce if you opened up Microsoft Word and slammed your head repeatedly on the keyboard.

As for the sentiment itself, well, it's trying very hard to be offensive, and the most offensive thing about it is that it fails so miserably. There's an old tradition in sportswriting whereby the local newspaper boys would do a little Don Rickles riff on the opponent's city in advance of a big game or series. Jim Murray wrote this stuff better than anyone. He called Long Beach "the seaport of Iowa...a city which, rumor has it, was settled by a slow leak in Des Moines." He said of Cincinnati: "They still haven't finished the freeway outside the ballpark...it's Kentucky's turn to use the cement mixer." Baltimore, he wrote, was "a guy just standing on a corner with no place to go and rain dripping off his hat" and "a great place if you're a crab."

There's an art to the civic-insult column. It was an honorable tradition, once. Today, we get a guy who treats his column like a lengthy YouTube comment and can't even keep his boring L.A. stereotypes straight. Lame.

Stu: Phils-Dodgers as a gang war [Philly.com]

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#Thanks #for #your #continued #support #of #Deadspin. A reminder: If your posts aren't showing up on the hashtag page, make sure you're using the big comment box at the top of the front page. Leaving it in the comments of a post won't work. Barry P. will be here soon. And don't forget to wish Dash a happy birthday. Also, this just in: Balloon boy lives! Today ... we are all balloon boy.

Now before the conspiracy theorists get all bent out of shape, everyone should just chill out. The idea of some orchestrated cabal working behind the scenes to create a Phillies-Yankees World Series is ridiculous. Obviously the umpires will throw the NLCS to the Dodgers. Torre vs. the Yankees? A-Rod and Manny? They can't pass that up.

But the defending champs getting an assist from the Illuminati? Gimme a break. Next you're going to tell me JFK wasn't replaced by a robot in early 1961 and is still living comfortably at a hacienda in Cuba. Let's try to be reasonable, huh?

[Screenshot via MLB.com]

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Barry P. is up later to take you home, but make sure you're here bright and early tomorrow morning. Big update a-comin' that I'm sure you'll have no problem dealing with in a polite and orderly manner. (Don't worry, it's not as bad as you think. Probably. Maybe. It might be worse.) Sweet dreams.