Well, folks… I’ve said a lot of things over the years — some bold, some questionable, and at least one that got me banned from a barbecue joint in Tulsa — but rarely has a team made me eat my own words this fast.
I predicted a war between Cincinnati and St. Louis.
What I got was Cincinnati rolling up in a tank and flattening everything in red and white.
Let’s break down the carnage.
Game 1: Mussina Declares the Stadium Closed
Reds 8, Cardinals 2
17 hits for the Reds. 2 hits for St. Louis.
Let me repeat that:
Two. Total. Hits.
Mike Mussina pitched like he was personally offended by the existence of Cardinals baseball. Complete game, 115 pitches, and he allowed about as many dangerous swings as a backyard tee-ball game.
Bernie Williams? Three hits.
Eric Davis? A bomb and three hits.
Darin Jackson? Four doubles.
Bobby Higginson? Looked like he wanted every wall at Busch Stadium relocated deeper.
This wasn’t a game — it was a warning.
Game 2: Joey Hamilton, Same Energy
Reds 4, Cardinals 2
If Game 1 was a beating, Game 2 was Joey Hamilton holding St. Louis upside-down by the ankles and shaking them for lunch money.
Eight innings. Four hits. Seven strikeouts.
The man threw 122 pitches like he was trying to win a bet with the sun.
Scott Rolen opened the scoring with a three-run shot in the first inning that still hasn’t landed. After that? Cincinnati basically said, “We’ll hold.”
St. Louis said, “We’ll fold.”
Reds up 2–0.
Cardinals blinking rapidly.
Game 3: Jose Rijo, Vintage as Fine Wine
Reds 5, Cardinals 2
I don’t know what decade Jose Rijo thinks it is, but he pitched like he had a DeLorean idling in the clubhouse.
Eight innings of domination.
Six hits allowed.
Eight strikeouts.
Cardinals hitters swinging through air like it owed them money.
Vina, Nilsson, Lopez, Higginson, Offerman — they all chipped in.
The game felt over after the third inning, and everyone in Riverfront Stadium knew it.
Series? 3–0 Cincinnati.
St. Louis? Somewhere staring at the ceiling fan wondering how life got this way.
Game 4: Danny Jackson Turns Out the Lights
Reds 4, Cardinals 2
At this point, I’m convinced that Cincinnati’s rotation is actually some kind of government experiment.
Danny Jackson didn’t just pitch well — he casually tossed seven innings of one-run ball like it was no big deal. The Reds’ offense peppered 11 hits across the yard, Bernie Williams and Fernando Vina acting like the balls were magnetized to their bats.
And when St. Louis made one last gasp attempt in the eighth, Arthur Rhodes came in, flicked off the lights, and locked up save number FIVE of the postseason.
St. Louis fans started filing out by the seventh.
And honestly? I respect the emotional self-preservation.
The Verdict: I Was Wrong. Gloriously, Spectacularly Wrong.
I predicted St. Louis would push this to six or seven.
Cincinnati responded by handing me a broom and saying,
“Hold this. We’re busy.”
Every phase — hitting, pitching, defense, baserunning, vibes, astrological alignment — all of it broke the Reds’ way.
Bernie Williams hit .533 for the series.
Cincinnati out-hit St. Louis 45 to 20.
Their starters combined for 32.1 innings, allowing 7 runs total.
That’s not just good.
That’s ridiculous.
So here’s my official updated prediction:
The Cincinnati Reds are not just hot — they are volcanic.
Bring oven mitts.
Arizona, good luck.
You’re going to need more than luck, actually.
You’re going to need divine intervention, a time machine, or Mike Mussina to suddenly forget how to pick up a baseball.
And even then? I’m not convinced.