I can't imagine a story that has less to do with Seattle, but on this day, I don't care. Prince Joe Henry, one of the great entertainers in Negro League history, passed away yesterday after a years-long battle with arthritis and diabetes. My first interaction with Prince Joe was a two-hour conversation about his lack of baseball pension in which I almost hung up the phone twelve times on account of his incessant rambling. Over time, I would come to love that rambling. Now that he's gone, I can think of nothing but rambling, wishing that the rambling was still here, blabbering in my ear.

Prince Joe lived in Brooklyn, one of the most ramshackle communities in Southern Illinois. The level of poverty there is indecipherable to Seattleites, but Prince Joe wouldn't have had it any other way. He knew Brooklyn history backwards and forwards, and should have been the town mayor. Ultimately, he wrote a column in the Riverfront Times, which led to a book. His thoughts and words were vital to the American experience, whether he shared them in print or while sprawled out on the couch in his trailer, as he often was.

Today, I regret that I hadn't called Joe in months. I didn't feel like I could spare the hour that a simple hello would inevitably have led to. In retrospect, what a selfish impulse that was. What a treasure of a man Joe was. I will miss him forever, lying there pontificating on his ripped red couch. I love you, Prince Joe. Your life was not for naught. 

Featuring Martin Scorsese and Rosie Perez:

Playing in far better weather than the Phillies and Rays are suffering through, the defending Men's Senior Baseball World Series Champion Tacoma Tugs of the Puget Sound Senior Baseball League came up short in their quest for a repeat title, losing in the first round of the playoffs to the eventual winner after winning all three games in pool play last week. Still, to simply make it back to the annual Arizona gaa is quite an accomplishment, and the Tugs did nothing to diminish their legacy as the area's most storied adult hardball franchise.

Tampa Bay and Philly is not a World Series matchup that is likely to get sub-casual baseball observers all that excited. The thing of it is, however, is that the first two games of the series, which is now tied at one game apiece, have been nothing short of spectacular -- and revolutionary in the most peculiar of ways.

What the Phillies and Rays are doing is playing throwback baseball. There are suicide squeezes, stolen base attempts galore, closers going more than one inning (here's lookin' at you, David Price), no-name managers, very few home runs, and even fewer spoiled free-agent brats. The Rays, and to a slightly lesser extent, the Phillies, are teams that have effectively been cultivated from the minors up. Better yet, the dollar-store Rays blew by a couple of teams in the playoffs whose wallets knew no limit.

It wouldn't surprise me if this World Series, which I'm convinced will go seven games, ends up being the least-watched in modern history. But if baseball is to regain any of the purity it lost duirng the steroid era, this series is the perfect tonic.

My predictions at the start of the post-season absolutely blew, so don't put any money where my mouth is, but....Rays in 7.

This link'll lead you to ESPN's chat with Reverb columnist Duff McKagain, who used to play in a little band called Guns 'n Roses.

Consider how hard it is to get a ticket to a Red Sox game at Fenway Park. Next consider how much more difficult than it already is (really fucking hard) to get a ticket to a playoff game at Fenway Park. That's one of the toughest tickets in sports, period. Now consider the 5,000 or so fans who left Fenway Park after the 6th inning last night, with the Red Sox down 7-0 to Tampa Bay, in a game that could have been Boston's last until next spring. Some would argue that it's punishment enough that those fans missed one of the most spectacular comebacks in baseball history (the Red Sox ended up winning 8-7, for those of you living under a rock). Nah. Not really. These are the Red Sox. Much as I'd hate to see them win again, they make comebacks that are simply inconceivable to other teams. Those fans who left early last night should have realized that, and should therefore have to forfeit their World Series tickets, should the BoSox make it that far, to the residents of senior and boys homes the city wide. Those fans aren't real fans, and shouldn't be allowed into real baseball games, endostory.

He's likely been catching shit from his homophobic teammates ever since these words came out of his mouth, but God bless Matt Stairs, who said the following after hitting a game-winning homer two nights ago to put the Phillies up 3-1 in the NLCS:

"You want to get that one big hit where you feel like you're part of the team,'' Stairs said. "Not that I don't feel like I'm part of the team, by no means, but when you get that nice celebration coming into the dugout and you're getting your ass hammered by guys, it's no better feeling than to have that done.''

Sorry Harry, not looking good.

My dad's a minister, so things like taking the Lord's name in vain were verboten in my house. But to him, the problem wasn't saying things like "Oh my God" -- that was just disrespectful. To actually violate the commandment is to claim the big GM in the sky as your ally in evil-doing or petty earthly pursuits--like sports. Dad's favorite example has always been the giant Touchdown Jesus mural on the Notre Dame library, which lines up perfectly with the goalposts at the stadium.

So after growing up in a house where praying for things like athletic victory was a theological no-no, I can't say I'm all that surprised by what happened after the Cubs pulled this stunt (from the Chicago Tribune):

The Cubs brought a heavy hitter to Wrigley Field on Wednesday afternoon, asking the Rev. James L. Greanias, a Greek Orthodox priest from St. Iakovos Church in Valparaiso, Ind., to spread holy water around the dugout to remove an alleged curse that has hovered over the ballclub since its last World Series appearance in 1945.

As soon as I read it I knew they were in trouble. And now it's do or die in Round 1 for a team that should be a Series contender. But perhaps it's for the best. After all, the Cubs are America's favorite losers -- and remember how everyone started hating the BoSox after they finally won the big show?

Back in 2003, both the Cubs and Red Sox were on the brink of making the World Series. But then Steve Bartman and Grady Little happened, and the curse remained intact. The next year, of course, the Red Sox shook the monkey off their back by winning it all, a feat they repeated in 2007.

Of the eight teams in this year's playoff field, but three, in my opinion, have a legitimate chance of winning the World Series, and wouldn't you know, the Cubs and Red Sox are two of them (and Kevin Youkilis should be the AL MVP, whereas the NL race is a two-man tossup between Ryan Howard and Albert Pujols). Here are my round-by-round predictions:

ALDS: Boston over Anaheim (I refuse to call them the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim) in four. Really, it's all about game one; if the Angels win it, my money will shift to their winning in five. But without the benefit of seeing how the first game goes, I'm sticking with Boston. Whoever wins this series will be the AL representative in the World Series. They need to change that stupid rule where the Wild Card winner can't play a team in its own division in the first round.

Tampa Bay over ChiSox in four. Tampa is the best story in baseball this year, despite relatively meager fan support. Chicago miraculously reveresed one of the all-time late season tanks to limp into the playoffs. The Rays and their stellar bullpen will vanquish the more experienced ChiSox on their home field.

NLDS: Cubs over the Dodgers in five. The Cubs will overlook the Dodgers and drop one at home, only to come back and take care of business in the rubber match.

Milwaukee over Philly in five. Two very evenly-matched squads engage in a hyper-competitive series that ends up being decided by the Brewers' Sabathia factor in game five.

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