Actually, the Indians are playing some great ball. If they don't choke, it should be a good series.
Oh, I can see it now: it comes down to the bottom of the ninth, Progressive Field, the bases loaded,
two out, a 3-2 count on Carlos Santana with Aroldis Chapman on the mound, then, as the ball is
on the way to the plate . . .
Massive thunderstorm with massive bolts of lightning.
A corpulent "ho ho ho!" from the heavens.
Everything frozen in Progressive Field including the ball mid-flight to the plate.
And a stentorian Voice purring, "I'm sorry to have to do this, but I can't decide between you, and in
My opinion you're both too good to lose. So let's leave it at this and we'll see you here again . . . in
another 71 years."