After the semi-lackluster start to this year’s World Series (no offense, Cliff Lee), I hope that over the rest of the series the Phillies and Yankees battle it out for six games in the most epic of epic-est World Series to ever have epic-ed, and that, in the decisive game seven, it will come down to the very. last. out. Alex Rodriguez will come to bat with the bases loaded, the Yankees down by two, and the game, the series, and the season on the line.
And, with the spotlight on him on the biggest stage, with the Yankee Stadium crowd cheering him on feverishly like madmen, believing in a notoriously un-clutch player in the singular situation that clutch was born for, with suspense mounting at a hysteric pace and hearts beating furiously as the pitch speeds toward home plate- A-Rod wins the game with an emphatic screaming line drive double off the wall… and as he slides in to second and gets mobbed by his teammates, he can finally say to himself, and to the rest of Amerca, nay, the world, that he has proven once and for all…
…that Charlie Manuel should have picked Pablo Sandoval to represent the NL All-Stars this year instead of picking his own stupid Phillies. Pablo would have gone 5 for 3 with a 6 run homer and made an unassisted quadruple play to clinch home field for the National League in that All-Star Game if he had played. I hope the Yankees win because of (and in front of) their home crowd; and when they do, I hope Manuel hangs his head in shame.
Screw that guy.
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