The Battle for Nebraska

I count myself a fan of interleague play. Sure, I wish there was a little more variance in the schedule. I can think of about 20 teams I would rather see the Red Sox play than the Braves again, and that's always the beef from the traditionalists. For every Subway (or El Train) series, there's a Washington v. anybody match-up that just isn't that interesting.

Who cares who Toronto plays? What's at stake between San Diego and Seattle? I don't know, but to lump tonight's Royals-Rockies match-up in that same unsavory group would be a grave mistake. The fate of an entire state is at stake.

When it comes to professional baseball, Nebraska is a vast wasteland. (Insert your own "when it comes to baseball?!" joke here.) Before the Rockies came around, Kansas City was the only team that could be considered a regional interest, but outside of places like Nebraska City, even that was a stretch.

Then Eric Young ushered in the Rockies era with a home run and the Western half of the state had a team to root for that was less than 10 hours away; games they could hear on the radio, or even attend. Ever since, the state's been divided somewhere around the 100th Meridian. Half purple, half blue, or at least that's how it exists in my mind.

So you see, this isn't just some nondescript interleague series between perennial bottom-feeders. This is for bragging rights for an entire season in the Good Life. This is to get a Runza at the winning team's stadium and gain total commercial control of both I-80 and the North Platte and Niobrara Rivers. This is for Grover Cleveland Alexander, the greatest hardballer ever to call the Cornhusker state home.

It's also to ensure that the winner won't have the worst record in their league come Saturday.

The tension is palpable.