Some people don't believe in karma, just like some people don't believe in unicorns and leprechauns and whatever fairy tale Donny Trump, the black sheep Brother Grimm, is peddling this time around.
I have to say, I'm one of those. I don't believe in karma in sports. Especially in baseball. I believe, in baseball, karma is whoever your starter is for a particular day.
Which doesn't mean I won't acknowledge the possibility that something weird -- like, you know, karma -- might occasionally be happening.
And so to yesterday, when the Cleveland Indians, who have not won a World Series since Harry Truman was president, beat the Toronto Blue Jays 2-1 to go up 2-0 in the ALCS. Meanwhile, of course, the Chicago Cubs, who haven't been to a World Series since Truman was president,
built a 3-0 lead over the Dodgers in Game 1 of the NLCS.
Then they lost it.
Then they were forced to pinch-hit for their ace closer.
Then they won 8-4 because the pinch-hitter, who just a moment ago had been drinking an Old Style in the left-field bleachers, hit a grand slam.
OK, OK. So the Cubs didn't really pull Miguel Montero out of the stands. It only seemed like it.
He is not, after all, a guy you'd ordinarily figure would hit a game-winning grand slam in the NLCS. He's a backup catcher who's played in only 86 of 162 games this season. He batted .216. He did, however, hit eight home runs and drive in 33 runs.
So it wasn't entirely impossible to think he'd be the hero for the Cubs last night. Just almost impossible.
And because it was only almost impossible, the Cubs and Indians meeting in the Lousy Karma World Series got incrementally more possible.
Not that, you know, there's such a thing as karma.