In Which Your Humble Blogger expresses an instinct that is what it is.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is, as always, impressed by the storytelling and appalled by the slaughter.
In Which Your Humble Blogger doesn't mind most of the rule changes, but is still angry about the ghost runners.
In Which Your Humble Blogger waxes philosophical, and dusts practical.
In Which Your Humble Blogger did bring a third handkerchief, and made use of it.
In Which Your Humble Blogger just thinks that time and money could be put to better use.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is inconsistent, but then consistency is a jewel that is valued far more than its worth.
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.
