Playoffs signal end of world

Being Frank, by Frank Ameduri

Forget the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, there are more obvious signs of the end times in our midst right now. You don't think so? Consider this. Conan the Barbarian is the governor of California. The Cubs and Red Sox may be headed for a World Series clash and Governor Frank Murkowski was awarded the Order of the Propitious Clouds. I'm not really sure what that last one has to do with anything, but it sounds scary as hell, and it has that foreboding ring to it -- Ides of March, Divine Wind, Demon Spawn, Order of Propitious Clouds. If you didn't shiver just then, you're sleeping.

The thing about the Cubs and BoSox is that it kind of snuck up on us. The Four Horsemen are supposed to arrive with thunderous trumpets and angry angels and probably a string of 4-minute Super Bowl commercials. We all kind of knew the Cubbies and Sox were doing well, but nobody really wanted to say anything out loud. First of all, it's kind of accepted as a given that the BoSox will do well until September and then burst into flames, and we all expect the Cubs to be almost in first place all year long and then miss the playoffs by one-and-a-half games. To suggest otherwise before October is to be dubbed a bumbling baseball boobie.

So here we are, approaching the middle of October, and the BoSox actually took a game from the Yankees in The House that Ruth Built, and the Cubs have the bats, rotation and middle relief to give the Marlins all they can handle. Take my advice, if Chicago and Boston advance to the series, start filling the water bottles, and make sure you've got a closet-full of Spam. I read somewhere that water and Spam will be the primary forms of currency during the end times.

I understand the Vatican has sent correspondence to Bud Selig. The memo is a plea to handle the World Series the same way the 2002 All-Star game was arranged. Let the Cubbies and BoSox play to a 3-3 series tie, and then allow the seventh game to go 30 or 40 innings before calling it a draw. Each team can claim a moral victory, Chicago and Boston fans can continue their long-cherished laments and Beelzebub can remain on sabbatical. It's possible the commissioner won't have to intervene, anyway. Most savvy sports fans believe the series will reach game seven in exciting fashion and then disintegrate into a ballet of bungling. Six hundred innings and 1,200 booted balls later it will be opening day again, and all will be right with the world. Nothing against the Cubs and Sox, we'd all love to see one of them break the jinx, but we've got the greater good to consider.

The Schwarzenegger thing is even more confounding, except that it happened in California. Pundits have explained it by saying the recall process happened too fast, and Californians didn't have time to figure out who the serious candidates were. It's Arnold Schwarzenegger, folks, how much time do you need? Some point out that Arnold probably is ill-equipped to run the state, but that the damage probably won't be bad. After all, the state's economy already looks like the wreck of the Hesperus, and Jesse Ventura didn't destroy Minnesota much. That's all well and good, but it was Minnesota -- a place where a very big mall is about as exciting as it gets and where pepper jack cheese is stocked in the supermarket's exotic foods section next to the bagel chips. If Arnold Schwarzenegger can be governor of California, how long will it be before we have an undereducated Texan with a history of failed business ventures in the White Horse? Oh, yeah. See what I mean?

I'm not normally an alarmist, but all this has to be more than coincidence. It's not just that the Cubs and BoSox are in the playoffs, but they actually look like they've got a shot. It's not just that California did another weird thing, but that they've done something even they think is weird. I talked to a friend from California on Wednesday and she said, "Did you see what we did? Is that strange, or what? I mean it's not that we picked a bad actor for governor, we've done that before. This time we picked a cartoon character, though."

"Who did you vote for?" I asked.

"I voted for Gary Coleman," she said.

And if you still aren't convinced they're preparing for battle on the plain of Armageddon, consider this. Roger Moore was just benighted. Roger Moore! Not only is he not a great actor, but he's not even the second-best James Bond.

Frank Ameduri has no intention of sharing his Spam stockpiles, so get your own.