We are coming in to the final weekend of the 2005 season. Three games that will decide whether the first, crisp weeks of October will be spent watching baseball or playing Connect Four with Uncle Mort.
It will not be easy listening. It will not be “family friendly” viewing.
It will be thorns-around-your-plums nasty. It will be waking up at 3:00am with heartburn. It will be “I really shouldn’t, but, yeah, a few more shots of Jaeger sounds like a good idea.”
What tips the scales in our favor, however, is David Ortiz. Papi-San, as the Japanese worship him, is single-handedly pulling the Red Sox into the postseason. And watching him is second only to “breathing” and “TiVo-ing Stacked” on my list of Favorite Things to Do.
Attention New York: You will be in the House of Ortiz tonight.
And you cannot stop him. You can only hope to contain him.
