The lesson, as always: I like to imitate Bill Simmons

Did you really think the Phillies could reach their first World Series since I was in high school without me live-blogging it?

This, in fact, is the first time since the invention of the blog that the Phillies have reached the World Series (or even won a playoff game). Back in those heady days, you'd have had to publish a fanzine about the Phillies winning the pennant, and by the time you finished putting it all together at Kinko's, it'd be Thanksgiving and everyone would have moved on to sandbagging the stinkin' Eagles full-time. Shit, Kinko's doesn't even exist anymore.

Anyway, I'm joined at the BMFS Live-in Shoebox by a mostly empty bottle of water, a "Cincinnati platter," half a pack of Camels, and our two cats, Grover and Pidgie. They are joined, in turn, by two large bags of preposterously expensive prescription cat food. Pidgie's urethra produces crystals like Tiffany.

All 'round the Interwebs and cathode ray tubes (liquid crystal displays?), there is a broad consensus* that this will be a close series, and as such, most everyone is predicting it will go seven games.

*One of the most often misspelled words. Tip: think of the word "consent" as related to the word "consensus".

But of course, only a small minority of series go seven games, and a truly close series needn't be an extended one. For example, the 1960 World Series was not particularly close -- the Pirates lost three games by 10 or more runs each, but walked off with the championship with a 10-9 win in Game 7 thanks to Bill Mazeroski's legendary home run. Conversely, the 2005 World Series was extremely close, with the result of every game very much in doubt until the end, despite the fact that it ended in a sweep by the White Sox. They won two games by a run apiece and two by two runs -- and one of those two took 14 innings.

So if this series is going to go seven games, who's going to start for the Phillies in game seven? It won't be Myers or Hamels, so it's tough to concede a seven-game win for the Phils, even though, generally, I do favor them to win the series by the slightest of margins.

Why? First of all, let's start with the assumption that starting pitching is the most important thing in this series, as in baseball in general. Because it is.

OK. Now... Even though the Rays' starting pitchers are stronger as a group from one through four, only Matt Garza has shown the combination of dominance and efficiency that allows him to pitch deep into games. And he's not starting until game 3, which is a guaranteed win for the Rays regardless of who starts for them, as the Phillies have refused to move Joe Blanton ahead of Jamie Moyer in the rotation, which would cluster their two left-handed starters together.

I was not terribly impressed with most of the Rays' relievers in the Boston series -- eg, Wheeler and Balfour -- with the notable exception of David Price. If the Rays do indeed win this series, Price will emerge as a likely MVP candidate because he'll have to pitch two innings in four or five games. The Phillies, meanwhile, have four relievers (not counting Chad Durbin, who hit the wall about six weeks ago) -- two lefties and two righties -- who have proven to be somewhere between "reliable" and "dominant" in the latter portion of the regular season and postseason.

It is worth noting that B.J. Upton and Evan Longoria may, in fact, be superheroes, and that no one the Phillies can throw out there can retire them. This, of course, would most likely also result in a Rays win.

I see this series as very nearly a 50/50 prospect; the pitching staffs are nearly equivalent and the Phillies are a rare National League team that can field an "American League lineup."

But tor the reasons outlined above, I'm puttin' in the call for the Fightin' Phils in 6. Now hands up: who wants to rock?

Another POOOAST!!! in two or three innings... Stay tuned to see how miserably, grotesquely wrong my predictions can be!

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