Believe me — the connection between this job and the Phillies winning the World Series has not gone unnoticed. In fact, the groundwork for the Phillies championship was laid back in July when I, like former editor/floppy-haired hero, Will Leitch, did in 2006, had pending nuptials fall apart. That happened soon after I took over the top spot here. The job transition was tough enough, but manageable. The other thing...well, that's as awkward, disorienting and life-altering as everyone who's been through that unfortunate circumstance says it is. "The Curse of Deadspin", I called it.

Leitch, who was supposed to be a groomsman, offered consolation this way : "Well, now the Phillies will win the World Series."

So that happened.

After a month of being consumed with this team's every move and the rest of life being postponed until the Phillies ended their magical run, it's over. The parade has ended, most of the cars on Broad Street are back upright, and it's no longer okay to wear red to the office every day. Victorino is hawking ugly World Championship T-shirts on QVC and "We Are The Champions" is no longer fun to sing over and over again in a crowded bar. It's a return to terrible normalcy.

But it happened. I'm thankful that I got to see every home World Series game in person, then take Septa back to my half-empty Walnut street apartment to watch the roiling lunacy build throughout the weekend to its inevitable riotous end. I'm glad I got that Game 5 Part II strike out-drama, standing there with my Dad in the upper deck terrace, watching him go through the set of emotions that all fathers do when a moment like that happens right before their eyes. I'm thankful for all the congratulatory text messages and emails, the lack of sleep, replete with the requisite early morning man-tackling sessions with some of the new friends I've made in Philadelphia since I returned home. I'm thankful that I ran into an old Little League pal, Danny Wasser, in the deli parking lot on Broad and Lombard the morning of the parade and hung out with him and his buddies the whole entire day. (Thanks for the Coors Light. Oh, and tell your brother Ed I'll try to work a "Roadhouse" reference into this post somehow. How's this? ) Thanks to Dan Levy for beating "Why Can't Us?" into the ground and for all of the other Philly sports sites for doing a great job chronicling this craziness. And thanks to Rick and Dash for picking up my slack for the past month, during my admittedly delirious, hungover state for a good portion of this post-season. You've done God's work, gentlemen.

And thanks to you, faithful readers, for having to suffer through my unabashed homerism through all of this. Especially Mets fans. That must have sucked.

I'm well aware that this victory won't alter the national perception of this city's sports fans. If anything it solidified some of its reputation as a place filled with boorish and deplorable human beings. But that's okay, though, because for once, there's something to smile about for the rest of our lives. Or at least until the Eagles get knocked out of the playoffs again.

Philadelphians, say it out loud, just one more time.

Now, let's get back to work...

Today, is sort of an anniversary. It was one year ago this week that this column was rescued from the grimy death of Oddjack and reconstituted for mass consumption via Deadspin. Admittedly, it got off to an extremely slow start that deserved all of the derision and deafening silence that it endured through those first early, abysmal columns.

The goal of this rebirth, if there was any, was to completely destroy any last remnants of "oddsmaking" that I had to endure and parse through as part of my daily Oddjackian grind. I do not have fond memories of that blog, but the Oddsmaker column was one that sometimes contributed to a little traffic spike, giving me a sliver of hope for my survival as a "professional blogger" under the auspices of Gawker Media. However, one fluky traffic spike per month did not a successful blog make. So I was canned. Over IM, no less. (Thank you, Lockhart Steele, you WASP-y cocksucker.)

Anyway, last year at this time I was miserable. I was a runny-nosed mess, half-assing my way out of another "job" and barely able to hold a conversation with a bowl of fruit, let alone an actual person. Today, it's different; I'm more focused, motivated and invigorated by life. I no longer spend my weekends taking quick morning naps on the F-train platform next to pigeons nor urinate on inanimate (or, sometimes, animate) objects. Now, my weekends are spent furniture shopping at Raymour and Flannigan or learning how to make a fritatta. And I'd like to introduce you to my new friends: Orange, apple, the internet. The internet, this is orange, and that handsome devil right there is apple.

See? Progress.

Onto the issue at hand, which is acknowledging this column's jaunty goose step towards death. I'm celebrating by going all soothsayer and attempting to gaze into the murky future to predict what the major sports stories will be at this time next year.

So this week, I'm putting on my purple turbin, lathering up a gypsy and placing odds on the lead sports stories for June 2008.

J to the Ump.

Serena Williams Catastrophic Breakdown: 3/1

Even though sports entertainment has become more and more tabloid friendly, it's still in dire need of a female equivalent of a Lohan/Hilton/Spears downward spiral into pantyless lunacy. There are plenty of candidates (See: Wie, Michelle), but Serena Williams seems to be teetering ever so closely toward fuck-it-all complacency. The signs are all there: Demanding father, talent regression, nagging injuries, curious choices in boyfriend, and the loss of competitive drive. Not to mention, not answering calls from her personal trainer. It appears that someone put too much yeast in those brownies.

Alex Rodriguez Can No Longer Hide His Secret Lover: 2/1

The new Mrs(Mr.?) Rodriguez shall finally be unveiled to the wanting public, as A-Rod's mistress will no longer settle for being devoid of the spotlight. There's a reason why the man is on pace for a career year with the Yankees; it's because of a woman who's full of heart, wisdom and androstenedione. But no one can deny what a weekly bedroom workout with a lady who can bend a nickel between her rhomboids does for bat speed. Rodriguez will also attempt to change his nickname from "A-Rod " to something more befitting his current emotional state: Rod Sonja.

Barry Bonds Goes Into Hiding: 5/1

On the heels of his 764th home run, Mr. Bonds has decided to walk away from the game — and the rest of society — because he's "done everything he can" with his baseball career and can no longer suffer the disrespect of fans and media. And therefore the greatest player in baseball history has decided to just...vanish. Would anyone care? Only because he'd no longer be around to poke with a stick. Giant head or not, Mr. Bonds has to be considered a tragic figure, but one who ultimately doesn't realize his surly attitude and ignorance has tarnished records, but also deprived fans of the game the opportunity to actually root for a guy that's making baseball history. He'll realize this. Someday. Maybe next year.

San Antonio Spurs Win Fifth NBA Title: 10/1

The chances of this being a major story while the top two are circulating are very, very slim. Who watched last night's game? Who watched the NBA reveal its newest dynasty? Echo, echo, echo...

Unless the NBA decides to provide up-skirt camera angles for Eva Longoria next season, there's absolutely no chance that the Spurs "domination" would achieve front page news any place outside of San Antonio. And even there, it's still a risky play. But things change. They always do. For better, for worse, forever. Finis.

Back before we started Deadspin — we are but a wee year-and-a-half old, after all — we pitched the fine folks at Gawker Media on the idea of doing a sports blog. They weren't quite sure yet, particularly because, up to the point, we'd mostly just typed long, navel-gazing columns about the Midwest and covered finance (poorly). So they had us set up a blogspot page and just blog away for a day, to see if we had any idea what we were doing.

That was two years ago tomorrow, and the site was The Daily Closer. Looking at it now, we can't possibly imagine what convinced them we had any idea what we were doing. Hopefully, we got a little better.

And that's all. We just found that amusing.

The Daily Closer [Blogspot]