Sox victories a sure sign of the Apocalypse

Pinch me. I must be dreaming.

It is now Wednesday morning. Unless I have entered a parallel universe, the Red Sox have not only beaten the devils themselves, the hated New York Yankees, but they have beaten the vaunted St. Louis Cardinals three times in a row and are headed for a World Series victory.

Can this be? Is it the Apocalypse?

Forget that the fabulous former doormats, the New England Patriots, have won two Super Bowls in three years and are undefeated after six games, even beating the New York Jets. That is back (sports) page news.

The Red Sox, who have broken our hearts more often than any femme fatale could dream of, are about to do the unthinkable.

I can’t stand it.

Every game brings us to the edge. When the Yankees were up by three games to none and leading in the ninth, I did the best thing that I could. I went to bed and squeezed my eyes shut, like when I was 4 and I was positive something was living under my bed. I made myself go to sleep and awoke at 6 a.m. to turn on NESN (without lifting my head off the pillow) for the delightful results.

They are killing me.

For the next four Yankee games, even when I watched until the final, glorious, excruciating out, I had to wait until I heard it three times on NESN, then at least twice on ESPN the next morning before I really believed it. The Red Sox really, really, really had beaten the Yankees.

My first reaction was to walk out on the Cobb Manor deck to look for the meteor hurtling toward Earth. This could not stand. Not in my lifetime. The fact that I lost $200 on my perennial bet with eggmonger Terrance Fitzpatrick meant nothing.

We are not worthy.

In a way, the World Series is anticlimactic. We know the “real” series was between Boston and New York. It was like getting out of jail after a 60-year sentence. But as long as we are in the series, we might as well win it.

Won the first game with Tim (my least favorite) Wakefield on the mound. Won the first two with a combined eight Little League errors. Pedro was masterful in game three. Yikes! This could be the year.

The city has gone nuts, naturally. The riots already have killed one college kid during the league championship. Imagine what would ever happen if they won it all (before the meteor). The mayor has seriously suggested banning alcohol during the series. You want riots? That will give you a riot like you have never seen.

Then I saw it.

In defiance of Bucky Dent, Bill Buckner and Bob Gibson, Boston city officials started making plans for the victory parade. If the Sox won in four, the parade would be Oct. 29. Five games would make it Oct. 30. Six games would take it to Nov. 1, and seven (horrors!) would make it Nov. 3 or 4, depending on when the meteor hits.

Last year, they decided to paint the World Series logo on the Fenway park infield before the Yankees were dispatched. Look what happened. This is bad mojo.

I am scared.

Very scared.

Send complaints and compliments to Emmet Meara at emmetmeara@msn.com.