Wednesday, October 23, 2002

Barry Bonds bugs me. Everything about Barry Bonds bugs me. The body armor. The standing around watching his own homers. The steroids.

You heard me. STEROIDS.

Go Angels. Granted, they're owned by the Corp of evil, but for the sake of the late, great Gene Autry - Go Angels.

I got to see the Angels this year on my KC fantasy trip. I think that's the first time I've seen a World Series team in the year they won the series. A side effect of all those years living in Chicago. (Now I live in Wisconsin. I'm holding my breath for a Brewers world series. Uh huh.)

And the Angels will win this series. And Barry will not get a ring.

The best part of all this, I watched Game 3 with my kids, and they were into it. You know what this means? This means that in 2007, when Cal Ripken goes into the Hall Of Fame - I'm taking the family to the induction ceremony. The kids are into it. That's three votes for Cooperstown, and one lone wife in the minority.

I'm so happy. God, I love baseball.

In other news, the trauma of Short Stack and Orange Murder Suit closing on consecutive weekends has turned Rob Matsushita into Tom Jones.