The Dodgers is in!

The Dodgers are going back to the playoffs! And I'm celebrating with a guy in a White Sox uniform! Because the crazy season is about to begin!

Did you see Jim Thome run to first after getting that two-run pinch single in the eighth inning last night? The guy can MOVE can't he?

But it doesn't matter because the Dodgers are back in the playoffs for the second straight year, and Thome will be playing postseason ball! Woo-de-frickin-hoo! Get ready, big guy, for some crazy stuff. Batters with lifetime averages of .192 hitting .400. Fans like Bartman and Maier losing their minds over catching a ball. Walk-off home runs and comebacks from 3-games-to-zip deficits. Two guys getting tagged out at home on the same play (OK, scratch that last one).

I'm ready for angst and frustration, and, hopefully, just a little bit of elation. OK, a lot of elation. Cardinals and Phillies -- teams I actually like -- will become mortal enemies. And teams I dislike -- like the Angels and Yankees -- well, I haven't quite figured out what diabolical plan I have for you. But it will be messy. Oh, yes, it will.

I'm ready for four-hour games. And five-hour games. I'm ready for idiot TBS announcers. I'm ready for the mindless meanderings of McCarver, and the babblings of bloviator Buck. I'm bracing for patronizing features on Kemp and Ethier, introducing us to these "young stars" as if we're preschool children who have been too busy watching "Wow Wow Wubbzy" to know who these fellows are.

I'm ready for more Manny all the time. Manny in the morning. Manny at noon. And Manny at night. Manny on The View and Manny on Oprah. I'm ready for Fox/TBS/ESPN stories on how the Dodgers performed well without Manny, but no acknowledgement that some of the same networks' own "experts" predicted the Dodgers would implode when Manny was suspended.

I'm ready for hyperbole and exaggeration and pointless, artificial drama, created by people who can't see the built-in dramatics of every baseball game.

(Thank God the Cubs aren't in the postseason this year. I don't think I could take two straight years of that melodramatic wallowing).

I'm ready to jump and cheer. I'm ready to throw things. I'm ready for no sleep and endless postgame dissections.

Bring on the crazy fun. I've got my lucky cap and the antacid. I'm ready. Is you?