In Which Your Humble Blogger doesn't watch the matches on video anyway, so that's all right.
In Which Your Humble Blogger predicted, ten years ago, that Matt Cain would be the best pitcher ever to drop off the Hall of Fame ballot after one year. Probably not, but he might be the greatest pitcher ever to get zero HoF votes.
In Which Your Humble Blogger doesn't mention the media end of things, because, well, I'm not really disappointed in the media at this point.
In Which Your Humble Blogger used to care about (and even occasionally blog about) the Oscars.
In Which Your Humble Blogger could be wrong in the basic assumption, of course, but it's not clear how much that would even matter.
In Which Your Humble Blogger gets a kick out of you.
In Which Your Humble Blogger has been bound bound in filial obligation for some term to do obsequious sorrow.
In Which Your Humble Blogger rises.
In Which Your Humble Blogger has an observation that may be wrong but is unlikely to age as poorly as the last one.
In Which Your Humble Blogger posts something that will be out of date very, very soon.
