Since Grandpa died in 1995, my National League has been on a serious losing streak, having last won in 1996. Grandpa was a die-hard White Sox fan, so he always got the AL in the bet and I always took the NL. Since Grandpa's death, my dad and I continued the bet, and, due to this losing streak, I've gone into serious debt (well, okay, we only bet $1 each year, but you get my point). I've had a sneaking suspicion that Grandpa has been tampering with the game each year from up above, but I don't have any proof, so I've kept this theory to myself.
Yesterday, Dad sent me a text asking if we were still on for our bet. I said yes, but we needed to up the ante again (we did this in 2007 as well) and increase the bet from $1 to a beer at Dinghy's next month when we're at Watervale. So in reality, that means we've only raised the stakes about 50 cents, but that's not the point.
When I awoke this morning to the sad news about George Steinbrenner, I knew the NL was going to win tonight. The AL would be far too upset to play a good game. I called Dad and he laughed at me. He assured me that the NL was going down . . . again.
Guess who's laughing now!
That's right. Thanks to Brian McCann's 3-run hit and Marlon Byrd, the National League won 3-1.
That's gonna be one sweet beer at Dinghy's next month.