The Yankees are World Champions again, but it’s not the same this time. Evil Empire? I wish; at least “evil” is interesting.

Instead, what we have is the rise of the boring over the bad. Somehow, Yankeefication has become synonymous with boringification. Johnny Damon: went to the Yankees, became boring. Mark Teixeira: is boring, and thus is perfectly suited for the Yankees. Joba Chamberlain: has a mother who dealt meth. Yet somehow is boring anyway.

Even Alex Rodriguez is boring. You’d think a top slugger who dates starlets could at least manage to be mildly intriguing. And yet Kate Hudson was pretty boring to start with, and is now made even more boring by her association with A-Rod. The news that A-Rod has not one, but two, portraits of himself as a centaur? That should be, if not actually interesting, then perhaps titillating. (If you snoozed through Mythology 101, a centaur is a mythical beast that is half horse, half douchebag.) But it’s completely boring.

The Yankees aren’t even interesting in New York, where the Mets seem to have a lock on mental stimulation. The Mets may have failed spectacularly this year, but at least they failed in a way that engaged the frontal lobe. Sure, the Yankees won the World Series, but they won it dully: They essentially just scored a lot of runs. And yet, not enough runs so as to actually be remarkable.

And in fact, that’s in line with their one-note “strategy” for success over the 2009 regular season: just score a lot of runs. In the middle of the pack in pitching, defense, and baserunning, the Yankees ranked first in MLB in both on-base percentage and slugging percentage. And as the only team in MLB to score more than 900 runs this season, their games were interminably long even before Jorge Posada started making 4 trips to the mound per at-bat.

Most mind-numbing of all is the debate we’re sure to be inflicted with, post-Series, about the payroll disparity between the Yankees and the Rest. Yes, it’s pretty wearisome when a team wins just by buying the best talent available. But it will be even more tedious to rehash the same tired arguments about salary caps and payroll limits.

What would save the Yankees — and the free, baseball-loving world — from this state of ennui? A better Red Sox team in 2010. Let’s face it: the Yankees only manage to be exciting when they have a worthy foe.

Let’s hope that Theo pulls out all the stops to give the Boring Bombers a run for their (oodles and oodles of) money. Because right now, even hating the Yankees is boring.

Last week, I wrote this somewhat silly Metro column about why Red Sox fans should root for the Phillies. I was being glib and slightly facetious. But tonight, I really do think that everyone in their right mind should be rooting for the Phillies — specifically, for Pedro Martinez.

There’s nothing like a good sports redemption story, and Pedro’s tale has all the ingredients. He has crazy hair, says crazy things, has a crazy secret love child. He is winless in his last 5 playoff starts at Yankee Stadium, dating back to 2003. He once admitted that the Yankees were his “daddy.” And he’s also one of the best pitchers of all time. (Remember that time back in 2000 when he posted an ERA+ of 291?!? Well, I do.)

And yet despite his sustained dominance — three Cy Youngs, eight All-Star picks, nine seasons with 200+ strikeouts including two seasons with 300+ strikeouts — he always retains the flavor of the underdog. Maybe it’s his diminutive size. Maybe it’s the arm-hanging-by-a-thread thing that’s made it seem for 10 years like every great game might be his last. Maybe it’s because he’s come thisclose to an MVP (in 1999, denied by voters who didn’t think a pitcher should win), thisclose to a perfect game (in 1995, when, after retiring 27 batters, the game was still scoreless) and now, just maybe, thisclose to being the only pitcher to win a Cy Young and a World Series ring in both leagues. Or maybe it’s because we remember that he was just the younger, smaller brother from a poor town in the Dominican; the one who might, with luck, one day be nearly as good as Ramon.

“I’m someone who wasn’t meant to be,” he said, “And here I am on the big stage.”

Here’s hoping he gets to take a well-deserved curtain call.

Last night’s World Series contest between the Phillies and the Yankees featured five solo home runs — one apiece from Hideki Matsui, Nick Swisher, and Carlos Ruiz, and two for Jason Werth.

Is there anything in baseball more boring than a solo home run? I mean, sure, it can be pretty darn interesting in the right context, like if it’s a walk-off solo home run or something. Or if it kills a seagull mid-air. But to me, a game with five solo homers tells you a) that the pitchers are throwing strikes and generally keeping runners off the bases and b) that they’re still not really pitching well enough to make the game interesting as a pitchers duel. For these reasons, I consider that a game with five solo shots has to be one of the most boringest kinds of games to watch.

Unless you were a Yankee fan, the most interesting parts of last night’s game were a) the appeal on A-Rod’s homer in the 4th (a two-run homer, let’s note) and when Jimmy Rollins tore up the basepaths in the 2nd, stealing second off of Andy Pettitte and swiping third (he then had to go back to second after Chase Utley fouled off the pitch). That’s about it.

Yes, the game was close enough to maintain suspense until the late innings. But I hope that tonight’s game offers something a little more interesting than the sight of one ballplayer trotting around the bases…five different times.

Today the New York Times has a story about all the bitter Mets fans who can’t decide who to root for (or against) in the World Series.

Mets fans, let me make it easy for you. (Don’t worry, I won’t use any big words.)

The unfortunate reality for everybody in America who isn’t a fan of the Phillies or Yankees is that no matter who wins, you all lose.

One of the two fanbases is about to get insufferably obnoxious. You thought Boston was bad after the Sox won their 2007 World Series? You ain’t seen nothing yet.

It’ll take the Yankees fans about five minutes to go back to being every bit as insufferable as they were in the late nineties, when winning was their birthright. There is no chance — none — that nearly a decade of playoff stumbles has humbled this bunch. They do arrogance like Bob Ross did puffy clouds.

When the Phillies won their World Series last year, we Phils fans viewed it as nothing short of a miracle. We didn’t boast too much, because we understood that whoever or whatever higher power is in charge of dolling out karma clearly fell asleep at the wheel and we got lucky. But this year, if the Phils beat the Yankees there will be one inescapable conclusion: our team really is this good. And we’ll make sure you’re reminded of it often.

Like I said, either way one group of fans will get a much unneeded ego boost.

So who to root for? Simple. There are a lot more Yankees fans than Phillies fans. A lot more. If you want to minimize the level of obnoxiousness in America, the Phillies should be your choice to win the series.

Sure, there are other reasons to root for the Phils. A Phillies victory would further chip away at the notion that the AL reigns supreme. And it’s always nice to remind the Yankees that money can’t buy happiness. And wouldn’t you just love to see a close up of Kate Hudson consolling her man as he cries into her surpemely toned shoulder?

But really, it all comes down to minimizing assholishness. That’s what a Phillies victory would do.

I was talking to my dad today and he brought up something that had crossed my mind once or twice. Chase Utley, who dropped an F-bomb at the Phillies’ championship celebration on Friday, has yet to apologize.

Unlike the first time Utley used the f-word on national TV this year, this time he meant to say it. So maybe it’s not surprising that he hasn’t said “I’m sorry.”

But it is surprising that the Phillies didn’t make him apologize. These days it’s not about right or wrong, it’s about minimizing public relations damage, and the Phillies didn’t do anything to appease people who were upset about Utley’s language.

Hey, I’m not saying he should apologize. What’s done is done. And, frankly, it was hilarious. I’m just surprised that polical correctness didn’t win out, for once.

Chase Utley is many things. He’s hardworking, talented, professional, philanthropic, and kinda handsome, if you’re into the Pat Riley hairdo.

But above all else, he’s boring. I have a friend who used to work for the World Wide Leader who told me once that Utley was the worst interview she’s ever done.

Here’s how Jimmy Rollins explains Utley’s conversational style:

“[H]e talks and says what he has to say. But it’s all done in Chase-way. And we all understand it.”

Utley just isn’t much of a talker. And that’s what’s made this afternoon’s World Series Championship parade so surprising.

For the second time this year, Utley dropped the F-bomb.

From Philly.com:

“World champions. World (f-bomb) champions.”

Chase Utley is the quiet man no more.

And the crowd is stunned for about a millisecond, and then gives him the biggest cheer of all.

F-ing awesome.

Hat tip to The 700 Level.

Hat tip to The 700 Level and Deadspin.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t be in Philly last night for the big game. Couldn’t pound a Yuengling in the parking lot and then smash the bottle on the ground. Couldn’t help tip over a car. And I wasn’t the only one. Lots of Philly fans are spread out all over the world.

My friend Alicia, who is working for the Clinton Foundation in Cambodia this year, sent me this email this morning:

I found myself drinking the blood of snakes this afternoon, in honor
of the glory of the Phils.

I sat at a table on the Mekong River in Neak Loeung Operational
District, Prey Veng Province, alongside local and national health
administrators who don’t know ‘first base’ from ’short-stop’ from
‘home plate’, and announced our Great City’s Great Triumph.  Shortly
after the meal began, I excitedly proclaimed that “Today is a special
day for my people,” — this is how people talk here — and explained
that the World Series may not actually measure baseball greatness in
all the world, but its importance is of cosmic proportions to
Americans.  Well, it doesn’t take much to animate a Cambodian.  And I
guess wee needed SUMTHIN to cheer … the Phillies would have to do.
And ‘do’ they did.

We drank … and drank.  Round after round.  Fresh snake blood mixed
with a splash of Johnny Walker Black Label whiskey.  I got drunk on
the stuff, and on the hilarity of the scene.  Explaining baseball to
non-English speakers in broken Khmer and through a translator is a
lost cause: “Great American Past-time” doesn’t translate.

The head of the national HIV/AIDS program repeatedly
raised his glass to honor ‘my people’, I was thinking, “I’ll remember
this forever.”

Here’s to the Phils!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here’s to our people, wherever they may be!