Well, another year of baseball is in the books. After last year saw the Red Sox breaking 86 years of frustration, this year saw the White Sox breaking 88 years of frustration.

Can the Giants break 52 years next year?

I don't know. I have hope, and it think it's realistically possible, but you can't call next years World Series when this one hasn't been done for not ever 3 hours yet.

I was rooting for the Astros the whole series. We spent last night's marathon mostly at the sports bar, just yakking it up as the game went on and on and on. As a bit of foreshadowing, I was actually a little late to the bar because I started my own baseball game on my Gamecube with plenty of time to spare, only to see that game go to 20 innings (I lost, breaking a 24 game winning streak. Sadness.).

It was a very competitive series, despite the fact that the Astros didn't win a game. After all, there were two games decided by two runs, and two games decided by one run, including the final game in which the only run of the game was scored in the eighth inning. Too bad I missed some of the games because I had to sleep in order to get up for work the next day.

(Probably the worst part of my job is getting up at 4:30 in the morning. And it's not even the getting up early that's the problem, it's the cutting my nights short that's the problem.)

So congratulations to the White Sox (and Travis, the only true White Sox fan I know). You earned it with an 11-1 postseason, and it's hard to argue against that. From Black Sox to World Champions: too bad it took so long to get there.

But, I suppose, it's not how you get there, it's just that you get there that matters most.