Yeah, yeah, I know, it's already started. I know the 2007 World Series began at Fenway Park in Boston. But, as you may or may not know, and it really doesn't matter since you'll all be privy in a sec, as the mystical Crystal High Life Bottle is in a hurry for no one. No deadline shall force it's hand. No sireeee, Jim Bob, you sit there patiently and wait for it.

You know full well is has nothing to do with absentmindedness, nor disturbing laziness.
When we last placed a bookmark in our tale, Mr. Simpson climbed the ancient barstool and listened intently as the High Life Bottle foresaw both the Colorado Rockies and the Boston Red Sox entering the ring for the final round of the MLB season.

Ordinarily, he would be humble and gracious at being able to deliver such on the mark predictions. This is no ordinary time. He, and the bottle, rock in a way that can only be described as One Star Good.

Now comes the next endeavor, wading through the logic and statistics and expert prognosticators and talk show insider nonsense and telling you, the adoring, and consistent, audience, who is coming out of the octagon the '07 World Series Champion.

Bo$ton Red $ox vs. THE Colorado Steamroller

Three autumns ago, the Boston Red Sox overcame an 0-3 hole in the ALCS and blah, blah, blah. We all know the story. How could you not? They were hotter than Igor Chapurin in a Parisian boutique. (might take a bit... or some Googling, I'll wait).

So, yeah, then the Sox become this hotsy-totsy team that overexposed themselves in embarrassing fashion. Genuine Sox fans were pushed farther away from the field at Fenway so the nouveau riche could be seen at the hip sporting event. (Quick aside, Mr. and Mrs. Affleck: You wanna be real fans, sit under the right field grandstand facing the Monster and dodging the flat Budweiser waterfalls behind you.)

Point is, the Sox went from national sweetheart pookiepants to what they are today, the second most powerful team in baseball. I'm okay with this, so long as we're all square now. No more whining about the New Yorkie Yankees. No more pity from anyone when you can write off Matt Clement, Edgar Renteria, and other expensive free agent signings. You are what you are, a deep pocketed team.

When the Sox won the pennant Sunday night, it didn't faze me, which scared me a bit. I'd only been alive for two Sox World Series, and the third one felt... expected. This isn't my grandfather's Sox anymore.

Someone wise once said, "Is there a point in here anywhere?" No, not really. The Red Sox are a machine designed to go deep in October every year, even if there's only one October.

The Colorado Rockies, on the other hand, are apparently built to hover around .500 ball until they "Hulk up" and win 21 of 22 games leading up to the Fall Classic. No team that I know of, nor lightly researched, has ever entered Series so hot. They are the 300 Spartans trying to stop Theo Xerxestein's army from storming their land. They are the unknown, at least to my east coast bias. And the only reason I am remotely worried is that I'll have to endure taunts from my cousins who live in Boulder. That would hurt so much more than a Boone-like homer… Maybe.

My reader (singular) may know that I eschew statistical analysis and instead go with the gut. While I expect the Rockies to put up a valiant, Spartan effort, I can't imagine this one getting past six games.

Of course, should Josh Beckett do the unthinkable and drop Game 1, then Curt Schilling's gout acts up in Game 2, and we're left with Dice-K for Game 3, provided he gets off the shrink's couch in time. That means Jon Lester will be the only man between the Rockies and a sweep.

Oh God, the humanity. My head is cookie dough now. I'm regressing to pre-'04 hysteria. What if...? What then...? What me... worry? Nah, Sox take the title and the little flag trophy back to Beantown in five.