For those of you who’ve been in caves on Mars the past 24 hours, and for whom your only source of contact with the outside solar system is this blog, yes, the Chicago Cubs are World Series champions for the first time since Roosevelt.
Teddy Roosevelt.
Speaking of politics, does this not portend the third action in our series of unbelievable events of 2016? The Cavs? The Cubs? Trump?
You heard it here first.
I’m really not sure whether sixth games of seven-game series are rigged or not to produce Game Sevens, but even if they are I’m fine with it. Of course the Cubs would win last night, forcing a historic final game that everyone has been dreaming about. You know Fox studio executives (and every single baseball fan) wanted a Game Seven and now we have it.
(Heavenly chorus sound effect.)
Prediction: tonight’s winner will end a really long franchise drought of World Series victories.
Like a tease worthy of Charlie Brown’s football or 108-year curse, I’m afraid the Chicago Cubs’ victory last night in Game Five of the World Series merely staved off the inevitable. It must happen this way, no? The victory gave Chicago fans that foolish ray of hope which makes things like running gags and curses so effective. Yet so mean.
I must say, however, that last June I felt the same way about the Golden State Warriors, one game from an NBA Championship (they still are). There fortune smiled upon the land of Cleve, then dubbed Believe, where fate resumes its play this Tuesday eve.
Halloween has begun. I’m calling it. Four-day weekend.
If anyone needs me I’ll be ankle-deep in candy watching baseball and waiting for the Great Pumpkin to arrive.
Fifty years ago tomorrow TV audiences were treated to an instant favorite among critics and casual viewers alike. It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown was the third Peanuts television special and second holiday-themed episode after the equally legendary A Charlie Brown Christmas. Like most people I have seen the show dozens of times, and I’m happy to say my son is now at an age that he not only wants to watch it multiple times, but actually understands some of the jokes. (“I got a rock” is repeated often in our home.)
Like James Bond or the Pink Panther, Team Charlie Brown peaked in the 1960s with their first few efforts on the screen. It’s tough for modern tellings to match the elegance and cache of their ’60s counterparts, regardless of CGI of special effects wizardry. It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is simply great storytelling. It’s serious enough for adults and silly enough for kids, and tries just hard enough to make you realize full well you’re watching something difficult look easy. The sound is quintessential Peanuts; Charlie Brown sounds like Charlie Brown and Vince Guaraldi sounds like Vince Guaraldi. Nothing is overdone or wasted, and even the silly sections keep your attention.
It is said that after the episode aired in 1966 children around the country sent candy and sweets to their local TV stations for the kid who got only rocks in his Halloween treat bag. I’d have Franklin do it as a lark but I’d probably have NSA agents showing up at my door.
Different world, eh?
But I’m still watching the same TV special.
So it is set. The matchup of the century. Quite literally. In this corner, the team that hasn’t won a World Series in 68 years, and in the other corner, the team that hasn’t won it in 108.
Either way you’ve got a great story. Either the Cubs are going to break their century-long curse (making the Indians the new Cubs), or the Indians are going to go from the titleless city to one that will now own two, following LeBron and co.’s win last June.
And might I add a parallel to that other race going on these days? Hillary? Chicago born? Trump? Wins nomination in Cleveland?
Somebody has a sense of humor.
As ridiculous as I found Wednesday night’s “debate” between “presidential” contenders Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump, at least it makes for good television. Sometimes. It’s a little tough to watch, considering the guy I want to win does a pretty poor job, I think, of making his case. Luckily for him I’m on board anyway.
More interesting, of course, is this year’s MLB playoffs, now that its most darling team is one win from the World Series. Its second-most darling team is already in.
Network executives continue to pinch themselves.
Alert outside world I am indisposed tonight.
Baseball, baseball, Charlie Brown Halloween special, and a Presidential debate.
Heaven can wait.
They say defense wins championships.
I’m not sure the defensive unit of my hometown NFL team is quite at championship level, but that’s been the most impressive part of their game the past month as the Burgundy and Gold have rolled out four straight victories. At the risk of getting ahead of myself, I say nothing else on the matter.
One or two words need to be said, however, of last night’s Game Two of the NLCS. Talk about defense. I don’t think I’ve seen an MLB playoff game in primetime finish in under three hours in a decade, and last night’s contest showed that even such a lightning-fast affair can be entertaining. This one was a pitchers’ duel, and yes I punctuated that correctly. Not two opposing pitchers but several were involved in last night’s 1-0 game at Wrigley Field, won by the visitors behind Clayton Kershaw and Kenley Jansen. There were five hits in the game. Total. And it never seemed dull.
The series resumes Tuesday in Los Angeles for a highly-anticipated Game Three.
TV executives are just drooling for this to go seven games.
For more than three decades I’ve greatly preferred creamy peanut butter to crunchy, and in recent years I’ve rarely given the latter any consideration at all. Last night I realized I’ve been giving crunchy peanut butter the short shrift. Having long ago abandoned said product, I was pleasantly surprised by its flavor and consistency.
Bravo, crunchy peanut butter, bravo. You have earned a place in my culinary rotation.