Ball 5

Author: Justin Golenbock

It's Monday morning, Boston's just won the wild card, and it's all Sox talk, all the time. What are our chances, I ask? What do we need to do to repeat? "Johnny Damon needs to cut his hair," Jackie Laryea, '07, demands while breaking from her essay on Torture: the body in pain. "Gotta clone eight more Trots'," Fats, '06, chimes in. "...," says Mark Bellhorn, '96.

In deference to the fever infecting campus one puritan at a time, I knew it was time to preach "The Word" from my pulpit...superficially masked as a comprehensive analysis of Boston's postseason fortunes, of course.

Now by Thursday, I knew, we could already be down 2-0, so why risk exposing myself to embarrassment with a prediction? And predictions are boring when you know who'll win.

The first round is all about substance versus style: Do you pick a team like the White Sox, with a deep rotation spearheaded by two Cy Young candidates, a versatile bullpen that goes six deep and an athletic, rangy young defense that leads the league in put outs? Or do you want a team that bashes the s**t out of the ball and looks good doing it? Thanks for playing. Edge: Red Stockings

In the other divisional series, the Angels are a likeable lot: hard-nosed, well-coached, charitable to orphans and they have K-Rod. Some of us even have multiple pin-ups of Vladimir Guerrero arranged in a vaguely homoerotic tribute to his awesomeness.

But their impatient offense (.325 OBP, ninth in the AL in walks) doesn't match up well against the New York's power arms in a short series, so look for a rematch of last year's momentous ALCS. We can assume that Joe Torre is starting to tire of watching tape on loop of Manny's increasingly magnificent homerun trot (or lack thereof), and will start pitching to Papi, a no-win situation any way he chooses to see it.

In a match-up of two teams constructed identically, look for dark-horse series MVP Jonathon "never just Jon" Papelbon out of the pen to shut down Yankee bats when it counts. A-Rod mails it in after taking home his regular season MVP; Jeter's texting "True Yankees" Paul O'Neill and Scott Brosius by Game 6; and Manny's khakis just keep flapping in the wind each time around third base. Victor: Pilgrims

Forget about the National League, it stops at the Gateway Arch. Don't pitch to Pujols, and is anyone scared of Chris Carpenter? Really? The National media annoints little Cardinals shortstop David Eckstein "Scrappy White Guy of the Year" for looking toooo cute when diving for balls perpetually just out of reach, while Sox pitcher Tim Wakefield dusts off his rarely used boom stick.

MVP? Ah hell, I'll give it to Johnny, he needs the new contract. This time without the Jack...World Champions: Red Sox