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Dream team - I will use your talents come baseball season, my friend. Or if we box. [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
The Anti-Blue

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Dream team [Oct. 17th, 2010|01:33 am]
The Anti-Blue
[Current Mood |ecstaticecstatic]

Last night, I dreamed that I was Matt Cain's teammate. He started the game, which took place in a small, high-walled park in the midst of a quiet forest. True to form, he was awesome. I entered as a reliever after several innings. Spotted my pitches, got plenty of swinging strikes, and pretty much put the game on ice -- with Matty giving instruction over my shoulder, which was perfectly acceptable in the context of my dream. Before I could record the last few outs, the walls became mirrors, and red cannons rose out of the ground on all sides. As it so happened, our team had been on the run from a murderous rival group who'd finally found us, thanks to a mole who gave away our position. The cannons began firing and my teammates fled in all directions. I panicked momentarily before remembering my ability to fly. Quickly, I grabbed Matt by the arm and rocketed straight into the air. Using a grappling hook (unnecessary, given the gift of flight), I swung from tower to tower with Matt in tow, until I found a spot to land a good distance away from the carnage. We didn't know what became of our teammates, but what mattered most in that situation was that Matt Cain was safe.

Given the events that have transpired since, I think it's pretty clear what that dream portended. Roy Halladay was going to give up four runs. Tim Lincecum was going to battle through without his best stuff. Cody Ross was going to hit two bombs. Pat Burrell was going to mash an RBI double against his former team; Raul Ibañez would miss his chance to prevent it. Classless Phillies fans were going to taunt Lincecum and shower him with catcalls but then, eventually, shut the fuck up. And the Giants, as a team, would prove all the pundits and talking heads wrong with a win that may not totally silence the doubters, but should at least make them think twice before they dismiss the pride of San Francisco.

About a week ago, I had a dream that Matt Cain and I were in high school together. He got upset with me because we had made plans to go out to lunch, but I had brought mine from home instead. "You're gonna have to come with me when I get my lunch," he scolded. Thinking back, that dream was forecasting the 3-1 NLDS win. Obviously.

Oh, Giants. I love you so.
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