Your Google searches paid for this jacket.Oh, hello there. I didn’t see you. I was just enjoying a glass of red wine–which is, of course, the color worn by the finest team in baseball with the finest fans in baseball–and unwinding in front of the fire as I watch my beloved Cardinals go to battle with the Brewers of Milwaukee. What? No. I always wear my jacket indoors. No, I’m completely comfortable.

Anyhow, is there anything finer than the joy of late-season baseball? Sometimes, I’ll curl up with my old, tattered copy of The Unbearable Lightness of Being–which I have read at least twice–flip on the game, kick my feet up on the coffee table after sliding aside my latest copy of The New Yorker, and wrap myself in a little slice of heaven.

We’re hearing rumblings and grumblings, though–mostly coming from the vicinity of that Second City, so-called because of the rebirth of the city after the Great Fire, not, as many believe, because it is a small, inferior version of New York–that the Cardinals are “tanking” their series against the Battling Bernie Brewers of Wisconsin’s Wallbangers to help the Brewers in their attempt to catch up to the Chicago Cubs.

How dare they? How dare anyone?

When we began watching this game tonight, prior to hearing the complaints of the fans in Chicago, we were innocent–nay, even, naive–men. But, as we watched America’s Team give up four runs in the bottom of the first inning, something–and we would hate to give that “thing” a name, but would rather allow you, our brilliantly intelligent readers who love Anchorman, to fill in the proverbial blanks yourselves–was gone.

And that thing will never be back. Not after Adam Wainwright gave up a three-run home run to Prince Fielder in the bottom of the first inning. Not after Damian Miller hit a two-run double in the fifth inning to make it 9-2 Brewers. Not after the sure-handed–be those hands small, large, or medium sized–David Eckstein committed an error. And certainly not when Brendan “I Don’t Bend My Brim” (tee hee!) Ryan committed two errors.

No, sir. The Cardinals still have a lot to play for this year. To honor the memory of Cardinal great Josh Hancock. To earn enough souvenir revenue to pay off Coach LaRussa’s tickets that he’s received for moving violations. To put a smile on the face of that young Cardinals fan who first walked into Busch Stadium II and cried, “Papa! Papa! Why does that man have girl hair in the back and boy hair on the top?”

How dare you, Cubs fans, for suggesting that the Cardinals would taint the game–the game we so love–out of mere spite? We would never disappoint that young lad. Nor would we disappoint our own players Scott Spiezio and Rick Ankiel, who have overcome so much adversity this season to still be the emotional–nay, spiritual–leaders of the clubhouse.

Shame on you, Cubs fans. Shame on everyone who isn’t us.