I don’t know at what point “running away with the division” becomes an acceptable phrase, so I’m just going to designate right now as that time, if nobody objects. (If you do object, feel free to file a complaint with the Emperor, but be forewarned, he’s actually a Sith, even though no one’s noticed yet.)
The Giants magic number has rapidly shrunk down to 13, which just adds to my firm belief that 13 is not an unlucky number and we’ve all been missing out on a great hotel floor for a million odd years. Besides, they’re leading the division by 7 games. 7 games. That’s a lot of games. That’s like 7 million and one pitching changes in Bruce Bochy Land. The Dodgers chose an awfully good moment to sort of forget how the game of baseball is played and the Giants are taking every advantage of it.
We’re closing in on the last few weeks of the season (what? When did that happen) and I’ve even started gazing at my antlers, which have been tucked away since last October. For those of you who are newer to the blog, I have these antlers and it’s my playoff tradition, when the Rangers are in, to wear them around town. It doesn’t have great shock effect, since I live in the Bay Area where that’s positively normal, but it’s still loads of fun.
That’s my alter ego who’s kind of a ghoul on Halloween and her MLB pumpkins. Back when she had copious amounts of hair, of course.
I’m dusting my antlers off. And making “It’s September Inside” jokes until I run out (aka, never) because, seriously, I only get one month out of the year when I can use these. I stockpile them all year in preparation. I’m not going to miss an opportunity.
People have already started talking playoff rosters and matchups and to say my grin is infinite would be an understatement. Buster Posey is generating some serious MVP buzz and getting close to completing his first full Major League season. Isn’t that crazy? I smell the postseason. This thing isn’t over yet, but it’s getting there. It really is. I could not be more excited.
Just kidding. Sort of.