You Keep Using That Word Fairytale

So last night's game was pleasant. An easy win that featured big hits, and hard ones at that. I'd be a little afraid if I were the Rockies. Not because they should doubt how good they are; because they should realize they can't really fathom how good the Red Sox are. A point of fact: everyone tells me how good the Rockies are, how they won all these games. My question: Look at their respective averages in the postseason, how are they scoring runs with those averages? Good pitching beats good hitting like a full house on a pair in the postseason. Bad hitting? Well, then it's a game of solitaire for the pitchers.

All that said, I think tonight's going to be a close game. The temperatures could fall into the 30s in Boston and, playing in Denver or not, that's a cold game. And with cold games come cooler bats and pitchers that look unhittable. Expect an ugly game tonight. Lots of pitches, lots of foul balls, not a lot of anything else. The Red Sox win anything close too, especially with the lead late.

As for last night's game, I'll fully enjoy what it was: A win in Game 1. But here's the thing about postseason baseball, namely: the World Series. If it is like a fairytale, as I surmised yesterday -- an idea I really like, one whose metaphors I could extend and will here -- then yesterday was much like the movie "The Princess Bride". Remember at the beginning of the film, Columbo starts reading to Kevin (Peter Faulk to Fred Savage). And Kevin stops him midway through the opening of the story saying (aloud mind you, not in the voice of David Stern) he knows what happens and Columbo might as well go solve a mystery or some other grandfatherly thing. That's how Game 1 was last night. No mystery to solve. Pretty easy to predict by the fourth inning what as going to happen.

This isn't a bad thing. A win in the World Series is huge. A lot to be excited about. But excuse me if I like a little drama. If I like to feel tense and upset and get mad and throw things and think that my determination and my will in believing we can win actually affects the outcome in a close game where every little thing helps. None of that was needed last night and I felt left out by the end. We expect drama from these games. We want drama from these games. We want to be pushing 1AM in a close, cold, and bitter game. We want the crowd and the wind and a bad pitch to mean everything. We want it all to hinge on some minuscule fulcrum, fitting all of the team and the fans and history and future on a ledge. Suffering. We want to suffer a little. We want Wesley to disappear, take us through the fire swamp, get whisked away and killed, brought back to life by Billy Crystal and to "have fun stormin' the castle".

We got none of that last night. But the bottom line is we want our team to win. Last night, the Red Sox replied, "As You Wish".