Dammit, dammit, son of a bitch

So -- dammit -- the Cardinals, as predicted, are going to the World Series again. Those bastards.

But if you didn't see Game 7 -- wow. You missed an incredible baseball game. It was tied 1-1 almost all the way through, a tie preserved with fabulous pitching, clutch defense, and Endy Chavez pulling off, quite simply, one of the greatest plays I've ever seen. Seriously, it's not fair the Mets couldn't win the game, because if they had, you would have seen that catch over and over again for decades: the play that saved a season. As it stands, it's just a great play -- a footnote. But don't worry, we'll definitely get to see Yadier Fucking Molina's ninth-inning homer over and over and over and over, just like I've had to see Aaron Fucking Boone's shot roughly 2,198 times in the last three years.

And how about this: my fondest wish for Albert Pujols pretty came true for former Astro/money-grubber Carlos Beltran. Mets down by two, two outs, bases loaded, bottom of the ninth, game on the line. Beltran comes to the plate. What does he do? Strikes out. Looking. How 'bout that?

And it serves you right, Beltran. The Astros offered you the GNP of a small country after 2004 to man center field for us. But no. You went to the Mets for the additional fifty cents or however much they gave you. And since then, you've been to the World Series exactly zero times. And now, you got to look like a complete doofus in front of the world.

How does that taste?