>Nathan DeGraaf: Justin, I hope life is treating you well and all your friends and family are eating caviar and shitting gold (what can I say? I'm optimistic). I'll weigh in on the lat two games of the series in a minute, but first a little anecdote I'm sure you'll enjoy.

Last Sunday, my boss was watching his kid play an AAU baseball game in one of the more urban areas in Tampa, when he heard a woman scream, “Help! This man is killing my husband.”

Since my boss is a good Samaritan, he and three other dads ran over to a fight and pulled one large, angry black man off of another large, angry black man. The conflict was resolved and everyone parted ways. After my boss finished telling me that story, he then added, “I found out later that the big guy was named Carl Everett. Apparently, he was some kind of ball player.”

Now my boss doesn't know that much about the American League so when I responded with, “Dude, you're lucky to be alive”, Boss had no idea where I was coming from. So I told him to Google the words: Carl Everett Crazy. Now he knows that he almost fought one of the most insane baseball players in the history of the game. You gotta love Tampa, man. You just do.

Anyway, pine tar pine tar pine tar pine tar… fucking save it. Everyone does that shit. Pine Tar is not the reason Kenny Rogers is throwing ten miles an hour faster than he did three months ago. Something else is. Your take, kind sir?

Announcer Tim McCarver has reached some kind of platinum “don't listen to this guy” status. Last night, while watching the game at the Local Pub, my friends Wild and Main wouldn't even let McCarver speak before they started muttering, “Shut up, Tim.” Somehow, McCarver has reached that rare place where, if he were a person at one of your parties, he would be asked to leave. To continue this awkward metaphor, McCarver is the guy who shows up at the party to a cacophony of, “Oh no, not this tool” comments, and then spends the night trying to impress fat chicks. To sum up: Tim McCarver really sucks. He's a douche. A complete and total douche. Now, all that's left is for Joe Buck to ask him to leave in the middle of a broadcast. Or maybe punch him in the face. Now that would be awesome.

Speaking of Buck, he's doing something new this year to try to help the Cardinals. Now, Buck's always been the world's biggest jinx. I mean, he has no respect for keeping quiet about good runs of pitching, hitting or scoring. Hell, he has zero respect for no-hitters, which he jinxes (almost deliberately) with regularity. But this year, to help the Cardinals, Buck is doing some kind of reverse jinx thing where he talks about how bad the Cardinals have been and how great Detroit is. But it's funny to St. Louis fans because we remember Buck being allowed to call an inning from his dad's lap when he was twelve years old (or however the fuck old he was—I don't do research). So we all know how he feels about this series. So here's my question: why can't he just admit that he's biased? He grew up in St. Louis . He practically lived at the ballpark where his father worked. He still lives in St. Louis. Isn't his pretending to be unbiased actually hurting his journalistic integrity? I mean, we all know the truth, right?

Anyway, the inferior National League sure is enjoying all the errors provided by the representatives of the clearly superior American League. I want to take thank them for allowing the Cards to win two games. Clearly, the superior league is full of gracious hosts. Clearly.

Anyway, a few quick questions for you and then it's off to watch the game:
Zumaya's (or however the hell you spell it) error was the dumbest thing I've seen in a World Series since Jeff Suppan's base running in '04. Can you think of a dumber post season error than that (I'm talking mental lapse, not Buckner-esque fuck up)?
I had a dream last night where I had a threesome with Jeanne Zelasko (spelling again) and Erin Andrews. In your professional journalistic opinion, do I have a problem?

I missed the last episode of the office. Has Jim fucked the new hottie yet?

Justin: Yikes! I never realized there was so much violence in Tampa. Hell, I didn't even realize there were black people in Tampa. Although to be fair, I visited Busch Gardens when I was a kid and my dad said it should be renamed Black Disney. And it really is. It's a lot cheaper to get in. All the rides are bootleg and advertise themselves as “The Fastest Coaster in Southeast Florida.” There are seriously blacks as far as the eye can see. They're filming John Singleton's next movie there.

As for Carl Everett, all you need to know about why you shouldn't fuck with him is…he doesn't believe in dinosaurs. Honestly, if I ever got into a tift with Crazy Carl, the conversation would go like this.

Justin: What the fuck, dude? I'm going to kick your —hey, are you Carl Everett?
Carl: That's right, motherfucker.
Justin: You don't believe in dinosaurs, right?
Carl: Yeah.
Justin: Hmm, my bad. I apologize. (Then, I would run.)

Regarding the Office, Jim still hasn't balled that hot chick but he did have a 10-minute phone conversation with Pam at the end of the show that was deliciously awkward, just like any other phone call after you told some cruel bitch your feelings and she stomped all over them like high heels on a bunny's head. Now Pam's considering getting back with Roy. She really needs to get her shit together. Not even “The O'Reilly Factor” gets me as riled up as this show.

Ok, on to baseball.

The Kenny Rogers pine-tar story will someday have its own epilogue in the book “Why the 2006 World Series was boring as shit.” It's the biggest non-story since this retarded Madonna adoption thing. Remember it was Joe Buck who brought it up. When Joe Buck thinks something is important, it's not. Remember his reaction when Randy Moss faux-mooned the crowd at Lambeau? The CNN guys covering 9/11 didn't sound so upset. Now, if Rogers had washed it off, then got shelled, there'd be a story. But he still threw five shutout innings. So obviously the pine tar didn't make a difference. So we can stop talking about it now. What a farce. This is farcical.

Hey speaking of Buck, at the risk of furthering Nick Gaudio's theory that we're secretly lovers hand-feeding each other strawberries, that was just a perfect disseration on the Tim McCarver Experience. I've tried in the past to put into words my disdain for McCarver, but always end up with incoherent drivel. To be perfectly frank though, when he's not announcing for your team, he's strangely enjoyable. Part of the reason I watch every game beginning to end is to hear what he's going to say next. And last night, he didn't disappoint. After Zumaya's outrageously dumb brain fart in the 7th, McCarver responded with “That was a bad play by Zumaya.” Thanks, professor.

Buck and McCarver? Biased? Horsefeathers! I agree, they shouldn't have the son of a famous Cards announcer paired with a former Cards catcher who won a World Series. Imagine if the Yankees were in the World Series and FOX paired that “See Ya” faggot with Paul O'Neill and Tino Martinez. People would be rightly freaking out. I'm so tired of this Midwest bias in sports.

As for Zumaya. I agree, terrible play, but not nearly as bad as Suppan in 2004. For starters, the score for the Suppan boner was only 1-0 in a game the Cardinals needed to get back into the series. They couldn't afford any mistakes. As soon as the third-base coach was throwing his hands up in disgust, that World Series was over. Pedro retired the next 12 batters. Lowe blanked them in Game 4. Cardinal fans checked out. LaRussa couldn't manage. I'm not saying there's no chance for a similiar situation this year, but let's not count our chickens.

Zelasko-Andrews is a fascinating three-way. The problem is, you'd definitely favor Andrews, maybe even cook her breakfast. Zelasko, on the other hand, you couldn't get out of your house fast enough. She's sexy in a crazy sort of way. The trick would be to bring along Eric Byrnes and his weed as your wingman. Then you could bang Andrews unfettered and you'd also have some free weed. For masturbatory purposes, we need to involve Rachel Nichols in this discussion.

Game 4 prediction: Tigers 5, Cardinals 4 (Listen, there's no way Jeff Suppan is this good. I can't accept it.)