I.

I love love LOVE when they show Nick Swisher’s numbers for the 2009 season, but I hold an extra-special fondness for the context Joe Buck et al either refuse to admit or simply would rather ignore. Example: Nick Swisher was second in the American League in walks with 91, which is a good thing and mentioned repeatedly throughout this postseason. Not mentioned: among A.L. outfielders, Swisher ranked 27th in hits and tied for fourth-most errors; you could fill eight outfields before you needed Nick Swisher’s bat, or fill 12 before you needed his glove. But hey, he drew some walks this year. I wonder if Phil Rogers is still overlooking this.

II.

Phillies and Yankees the Sox could use and realistically acquire to strengthen the team: Jayson Werth, Hideki Matsui, Pedro Feliz, Brent Gardner. Phillies and Yankees the Sox are more likely to acquire in hopes of recapturing that player’s obviously faded past glory or realizing their unrealizable potential: Johnny Damon, Pedro Martinez, Phil Coke, Chan Ho Park, Ben Francisco, Matt Stairs.

III.

Cliff Lee, man. Stay out of the American League for as long as you like.

IV.

You could almost feel bad for Cleveland Indians fans, what with CC Sabathia, Cliff Lee, Ben Francisco and Charlie Manuel all out there only by virtue of having left Cleveland in the first place. Then you remember these are the same people who sell out Browns Stadium every week, and you laugh a little. And then you laugh a lot.

V.

Speaking of comedy, the New York Times ran a gem about the soul-crushing dilemma facing Mets fans these days, having to take sides between the two most-hated franchises in all of Metsland. Really? They do? I thought the whole point of having a rival was to project all your hatred and venom onto someone else in hopes they experience failure and suffering of colossal proportions; if this were, for example, Cubs-Twins, couldn’t we all at least take comfort in the fact that someone was going to walk away a total loser? Or is there some unwritten rule that we all need to “root” for someone by default in any given competition because there’s no such thing as sports-watching for sports-watching’s sake? Whatever. Must be a New York thing.