Morning jolt.

I just went out to pick up some celebration kolaches for the family and a Dallas Morning News that I’ll probably never open.  It’s raining here, very gray.  The streets are quiet.  Kinda sleepy.

More than half the people I ran into were wearing Rangers caps.  I’m not joking.  Four of them asked me, some total stranger in a just-woke-up ballcap of my own, some variant of: “How ’bout that game!  Can you believe it?!?”  

Stopping by a North Dallas donut shop and 7-Eleven is an admittedly super-small sample, but it feels like a baseball town right now, something that’s been on my wish list since childhood, somewhere up there near a World Series in Arlington.  

I haven’t had nearly enough sleep, and it’s not like I’m begging to be thinking any more clearly than I am right now, but the last 10 very cool minutes have me ready to write finally.

This will take a while, probably hours, and not consecutive ones, but I hope to have something out to you today at some point.

In the meantime, I have a favor to ask.  My DVR behaved like a Phil Hughes pitch left up in Nelson Cruz’s zone last night, and I sit here without a recording of the Game.  

Three Bound Editions, any year, to the first person who can burn for me a DVD of the Game and the postgame trophy ceremony (and any other postgame celebration footage you were able to grab).  

If three books isn’t enough, I’m in a weak bargaining position.  Exploit me.

Back atcha soon with a report on Texas 6, New York 1, World Series Drought 0.

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