NLCS Game 7 Thread: Oct 20 @ Brewers, 5p

Walker Buehler (8-5, 2.62) vs. Jhoulys Chachin (15-8, 3.50)

For almost a full year now, I have lived in fear of the baseball gods.

These baseball gods have not been kind to me, a diehard Dodger fan. They have denied me playoff joys so many times during my lifetime, crescendoing in the last six years of consecutive NL West division crowns, which were followed by brutal disappointments. The 2013 NLCS loss to the Cardinals, followed up by an even worse dispatching in the 2014 LDS by the same team. Zack Greinke falling short in the 2015 LDS to the Mets. The NLCS loss to the eventual world champion Cubs in 2016. And the worst one, the gut-wrenching World Series loss in Game 7 last year.

I went to 2017 World Series Game 1 (with SoSG Orel; one of the best games of my life and needing a much overdue blogpost), as well as Game 2 (with my wife; probably the best baseball game I have ever witnessed if not for the sad outcome).

And then I had a shot to go to Game 7.

And I passed. I figured that the downside of the potential loss was much greater than the upside gain of the potential win. SoSG AC went without me. I was sad, but I was hoping the baseball gods would appreciate my sacrifice.

They didn't. The Dodgers lost in excruciating fashion. And I was sentenced to this past year of absolute baseball hell.

In 2018, I've tried even harder to be deferential to these baseball gods, following my Dodgers' many travails along the way. Losing three of four to the Giants in April. The depths of nine games below .500. The early loss of Corey Seager. The early bouts of ineffectiveness of Kenley Jansen's cutter. Justin Turner's wrist injury. Another Clayton Kershaw DL stint. Sitting in fourth place in the division, in June. Dylan Floro's walk-off balk loss. Kike Hernandez throwing BP to lose a critical game. The string of bullpen collapses. Chris Taylor's league-leading 178 Ks. The 1-6 record against the Cincinnati Reds. Brian Dozier. The river of shit on the Dodger Stadium field. Multiple power outages. The ignominy of having to play a game 163 against the Colorado Rockies, just to advance to the LDS. Having to listen to Joe Buck and John Smoltz' anti-Dodgers banter this whole fucking series.

Enough.

I'm breaking free of these shackles that the baseball gods have tried to place upon me. I'm not bowing to them any more.

The Dodgers are winning. I'm calling it.

I'm not even going to talk about the Brewers, as I'm moving forward. I'm not even giving this Milwaukee team the courtesy of a label for this blogpost. I'm already preparing for the World Series matchup with the Red Sox, whom we last saw in 2016 (we went 2-1). We're 12-8 this year in interleague play, which may not be as good as Boston's 16-4, but they haven't seen us yet. And we'll have a well-rested Clayton Kershaw, who won't be needed in today's blowout victory.

Fuck you, baseball gods. We're winning this Game 7, and going on to Boston.

Hasa diga eebowai.

(and speaking of LDS:)