Normally I’m a night person, but having been up until 5 AM last night without sleeping in today, I don’t think I can take this 5+ hour ballgame to the end… I may be mistaken, but I think it’s already the longest World Series game by time.
Even if the White Sox win tonight and go up 3-0 in the series, I still say this is a great post-season match-up. But it might be too great for me to watch it, she says as she yawns and her eye-lids droop.
Edit at 1:37 AM: They just announced it — this is the longest World Series game ever. I’m now officially rooting for the current batter to hit a homerun and end this thing. And if he doesn’t, I’ll root for the next guy.
Edit at 2:20 AM: Thanks, Geoff Blum. Final score — White Sox 7, Astros 5. Zzzzzzzz.

That was some damn good post-season baseball.

It’s laundry night, so I was up and down during the game. And it seems that I always left during the exciting parts. With the score tied at 2-2 in the fifth, I went downstairs and came back just in time to see the replay of Berkman’s double to bring Houston up 4-2. But that wasn’t the play I really kicked myself for missing.

In the bottom of the seventh, I watched the White Sox load the bases when Jermaine Dye got hit by a pitch. (Or did he? It looked like it hit the bat to me.) The Astros went for a pitching change, and so I went for a laundry change. But apparently it take me longer to change my laundry than it takes Houston to change a pitcher. When I got back upstairs, it was the top of the eighth, and the score was 6-4. I quickly reached for my computer to figure out how that happened — oh, Paul Konerko grand slam. That play I kicked myself for missing. There have only been 18 grand slams in World Series history.* And I just missed one.

As I sat there folding laundry, I figured with two outs in the top of the ninth and the White Sox up by two, I’d be able to go grab my last load out of the dryer very shortly. But the Astros decided to make it interesting and tied it up at 6 going into the bottom of the ninth. I almost went to get my clothes during the mid-inning commercial break, but having learned my lesson in the 7th, I thought better of it. And I’m very glad at that. Because while there have been only 18 grand slams in World Series history, there have been even fewer (14 including tonight) walk-off homeruns.** And while I can’t find official statistics, I’m pretty sure that this is the first one hit by a guy who didn’t hit any homers in the regular season.

* Bonus Trivia: Two teams have hit two grand slams in one World Series. The first was the 1956 Yankees. The second? My beloved 1987 Twins, with Kent Hrbek and Dan Gladden both going deep with the bases loaded.

** More trivia: One of those walk-off homeruns was Kirby Puckett’s in game 6 of the 1991 World Series. In the right baseball montage, footage of that homerun with the call “… and we’ll see you tomorrow night!” can actually bring me to tears. (Shut up — I know I’m a sucker for that stuff.)

Even more trivia, because I can: Prior to yesterday, the last World Series homerun for Chicago was hit by Ted Kluszewski on October 8, 1959 in an 8-3 loss to the Dodgers, who took the series in that game.

Well, there goes my theory about the White Sox beating all red teams in the playoffs in order to recreate their 1917 World Series win against the Cincinnati Reds… which is to say, perhaps it’s not their year after all.

Well, having been visiting our neighbor to the north last week, I missed most of the ALDS. (In fact, I found out the Red Sox had been swept by loudly asking a room of people if someone with an internet connection would mind looking up the score for me. It was a very anti-climactic end to the Red Sox season.) And now, the AL East is completely out of the ALCS — the first time since 2002 when the Angels took my Twins in five games and proceeded to make Dusty Baker’s son cry by winning the World Series. Honestly, the midwesterner in me is glad to see some variety in the post-season this year. Not that I’m rooting for the midwestern Sox. In fact, I’m rooting for the Angels. So, go Angels. Way to take game 1. (On the other hand, this seems to be the era of ending World Series droughts… so maybe it is Chicago’s time. I just wish it was the Cubs.)
And in the National League… I have no strong favorite. I did fly from Houston to Detroit during Sunday’s 18 inning game with a bunch of Astros fans, so maybe I’ll let their excitement wear off on me. On the other hand, and bear with me because this is a stretch…
When Chicago lost/threw the 1919 World Series (supposedly starting their own curse), it was against the Cincinnati Reds. So wouldn’t it be interesting if their next World Series victory came through a playoffs in which they defeated all red teams (Red Sox, Angels, Cardinals)? But that would require me to root for the White Sox… and I’m not sure I can do that.

I’m not the most domestic person in the world — I’m much closer to being the least domestic. When I cook, it’s usually macaroni and cheese, hotdish, or a frozen dinner. And normally, I would never desert a baseball game to make food. So today was very out of the ordinary for me… and I don’t think it’s going to become ordinary.
As I was pretty much out of food, I went to the grocery store after classes. As I was perusing the foreign cheeses, I noticed a collection of recipe cards with “International Dishes for International Cheeses.” The Emmental and Ham Scalloped Sweet Potatoes (Swiss, apparently) looked the most intriguing, so I took the card, bought the ingredients, and headed home to make a real meal. I opened MLB radio to the Sox-Jays and got to work.
I did okay with reducing the cream. I did okay slicing the ham and sweet potatoes. And then came time to put it all in the baking dish. Here’s an interesting observation: I need a bigger baking dish. My first folly of the night was having reduced cream and garlic spill all over the counter and floor. Nothing makes a kitchen smell stronger than minced garlic all over the place.
After a little clean-up, I stuffed as much of the sweet potatoes, ham, and cheese into the dish as I could, ate the remaining ham and cheese, and dumped the leftover cream-covered raw sweet potatoes into the garbage. I put the dish in the oven and it immediately spilled over and the cream started smoking… and smoking.
In the meantime, the Red Sox were down 4-1 and the Indians and Yankees were winning their respective games. This was no good all around.
I turned off the oven, waited for it to cool, cleaned up the burned crud, and tried again. As I was turning on every fan in the apartment to get rid of the smoke, I ceased listening to the game. Returning to my computer, I noted an IM from Harvey — “Ortiz!!!!!!!!” Whatever I missed while clearing the kitchen had clearly been big. And oh, was it… an 8th inning homer by Big Papi to tie the game up. (Apparently I also missed Manny’s homer in the 6th.) Thank god they didn’t try the bunt tonight.
With the sweet potatoes safely not-smoking in the freshly cleaned oven, I sat down to hear the rest of the game while chatting with Harvey — who is GOING TO THE GAME TOMORROW. I offered him $100 to go in full Yankee gear. He refused (thank goodness). The 9th inning proved exciting as Damon and stole second. Renteria walked, giving the man, the myth, the DH-MVP candidate* a chance to win the game for something like the 150th time. And he didn’t disappoint.
And so, what started out as a rough evening has ended with a Red Sox victory and a tasty sweet potato casserole. Not that I am going to attempt to cook again for a long time.

* I think that under normal circumstances, I would be opposed to the DH winning the MVP. But under normal circumstances, I am also opposed to the wild card team winning the World Series. My values slip a little when it comes to David and the Sox.

Since ESPN was kind enough to air it, I had the rare pleasure of watching the Red Sox game on TV tonight.
Or maybe I shouldn’t call it a pleasure.
Now, I missed the first three innings while my roommate claimed the TV, so I apparently missed the homerun portion of the game. But I did get to see Ortiz’s pitiful bunt bounce off the plate, right into the hands of Toronto’s catcher. I’m not exactly sure what was going through Francona’s head at that moment. “Hmm… we’re down by five. Our hottest clutch hitter is up. I know, time for a squeeze play!” There’s a brilliant scene in A League of Their Own all about why that’s a bad managerial call.
And given that the Yankees squeaked by Baltimore tonight, the Red Sox are currently stuck being tied for the wild card spot instead of leading the AL East. If Detroit can step it up and beat Chicago tomorrow, that’ll leave two weekend series to decide two division championships and the wild card spot — Good Sox/Yankees in Boston and Bad Sox/Indians in Cleveland. I briefly toyed with driving down to Cleveland on Saturday to catch a Cleveland/Chicago game, but the only remaining tickets are the $95 seats, and I’m not that rich. Besides which, I’m not sure who I’d root for — I’d like to see Cleveland overtake the Central Division, but not at the expense of costing the Red Sox a playoff berth if they can’t overcome the Yankees in the East.
And then comes October…
Edit: Lest my father disowns me… the Twins beat the Royals tonight. But at 15+ games out of the division, it doesn’t much matter. Except, um… go Twins.