I'm sick and tired of talking about the Prez and all the dumb things he keeps saying and doing. Let's dish something fun instead. Like baseball.

Alright, so my team (Kansas City) just finished the worst season in its history. The Royals didn't finish last, but 2002 was the first-ever 100-loss season for the club. My team managed to put forth this wretched effort despite the efforts of Mike Sweeney--perhaps the finest offensive first baseman in baseball, which is really saying something.

So I'm not gonna kvetch about the Royals. Instead, I'm talking playoffs. It's been a long time since baseball's post-season got me excited at all. But this year, I've been watching from the beginning. Actually, I started watching games in earnest back in September, as the As, Angels and Giants all clinched their spots.

I may be the only white guy over the age of 30 to publicly admit this, but I like Barry Bonds. Sure, he's an egotistical jerk with the emotional maturity of a 10-year-old (if that). But he's a lot of fun to watch. For all the talk of a steroid bulk-up, Bonds's greatest talent is his eye. He's the most patient hitter in baseball, and he's able to wait on pitches because he's got the fastest hands in the game. All that muscle wouldn't do Bonds any good if he hadn't acquired himself some beastly twitch fibers in the process. I swear, he can produce a full-power swing in a couple tenths of a second. Even in slow-motion, the bat is a blur.

Bonds is also a stellar fielder--when he wants to be, anyway. But for better or worse, he's the most dominant hitter in the game since Babe Ruth. He's the only player to ever approach (and surpass) Ruth's mind-boggling single-season slugging and on-base percentage records. Complain all you want about the way he shows up pitchers and plays "me-ball." This year (as has been the case most years Bonds has been in San Francisco) the Giants are winners, and he's no small part of that.

The Cardinals, of course, were the feel-good story of the playoffs. Just making it was an accomplishment for the Redbirds, who had to cope with the death of their pitching ace during the season. I might've considered rooting for them, but see, I'm a Royals fan. Royals fans always root against the Yankees, and they always root against the Cards--unless St. Louis is facing the Bronx Bombers. Some things are just in the blood.

In the American League, it was the Yankees against the three dwarfs. Except that the Anaheim Angels blew New York away. The Twins surprised the As before falling victim to the Anaheim rally monkey. And so we have a truly intriguing (and so far, exciting) World Series.

Did I mention that the team with home-field advantage has lost every series in the playoffs? Ever since baseball went to divisional play back in 1969, at least one team with home-field advantage has won a series in the postseason. If the Giants win, that would make this particular October truly spooky, indeed. Imagine the odds of the Yankees and Braves losing in the first round and the Twins (who had never before dropped a playoff series while playing in the Metrodome) losing the American League Championship Series. Taken individually, each is a big surprise. Collectively, I'd say this year's playoffs are perhaps the most shocking, not to mention exciting, in many a year.

So I'm watching. My usual habit is to turn on the games in the fifth or sixth inning, just to see how things are going. By this time, Max has gone to sleep and I've eaten some dinner. So I'm up on the couch, beer in one hand, book in the other and remote on my lap. I'll listen to the commentary while reading, looking up at key moments or when Barry Bonds comes up to the plate.

A long time ago, I used to go to sleep listening to Fred White and Denny Matthews call Royals games. There's something inherently reassuring and relaxing about watching and listening to a baseball game. It's been a long time since I've enjoyed watching so much hardball. No matter. I'm just glad my good sense has returned.

Jon Worley says the Giants will win in six.