So, yes, I was really hoping Pedro Martinez would shut down the Yankees last night.

You know, silence all those “Who’s your Daddy?” chants.

But it became obvious fairly early on that wasn’t going to happen, as Pedro was lacking two essential things: command, and a fastball. Around the fourth inning I understood that the Yankees were going to win, and grudgingly settled in for the inevitable. Because even though I picked the Phillies to win in seven (a prediction I made after watching Cliff Lee in game 1), the Yankees were clearly the better team. They had better pitching, and better hitting. A-Rod had emerged from his lengthy post-season slump. C.C. Sabathia was unstoppable. The team was so deep and talented that the few bumps — A.J. Burnett’s shaky game five, Mark Texiera’s hitting slump — didn’t matter. Whereas the Phillies’ bumps — Ryan Howard’s slump, the awfulness of Cole Hamels — proved insurmountable, despite the awesomeness of Chase Utley.

I didn’t want the Yankees to win, but I think I’ve grown up as a sports fan. I was totally devastated when the Patriots lost to the Giants in the Super Bowl, but eventually I recovered, and realized that it wasn’t the end of the world. That life goes on, there will be another season, more games will be played. And winning — the Celtics, Red Sox and Patriots have all won championships in recent years — helps.

The Boston Globe’s Tony Massarotti suggested (click here) that Red Sox fans have become complacent, but I think of it as maturity. It’s OK not to live and die with a baseball team, and to experience disappointment when they lose, rather than pure heartbreak. So, as much as I wanted the Phillies to win — the enemy of my enemy is my friend, after all — it didn’t really bother me all that much to see the Yankees dance around the base paths. Although maybe I spoke too soon, because quotes like this: “The Yankees won. The world is right again,” from team president Randy Levine, just make me grit my teeth. (The world is right again? Really?) Which is fine, because it’s fun to hate the Yankees. (I particularly enjoyed this post by the Boston Globe’s Eric Wilbur, who refuses to be gracious.)

ELMORE LEONARD

I managed to watch the World Series and finish the book I was reading, “Maximum Bob,” by Elmore Leonard. This was the first Elmore Leonard book I’ve read, and it lived up to my modest expectations.

Leonard is a pulpy crime writer, known for his fast pace, colorful characters, dialogue and sense of comedy. (Through Wikipedia, I learn that his advice to aspiring writers includes “Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.”) Many of his books — “Get Shorty,” “Out of Sight” and “Rum Punch” (the inspiration for Quentin Tarantino’s “Jackie Brown”) — have been made into wildly entertaining films.

Anyway, “Maximum Bob” doesn’t contain any great truths, and it certainly doesn’t qualify as great literature. The plot, which concerns a judge that some people may or may not want to kill, and the pretty parole officer who becomes involved in an investigation as to whether someone deliberately delivered a live alligator to his house, is pretty goofy. But it didn’t matter. The book was funny, and hard to put down, and near the end, when tragedy does occur, I was kind of surprised to realize how much I cared about the characters, and the outcome of this fairly silly story. The parole officer, Karen Baker, is a great character, and I need to find out if she appears in any of Leonard’s other books. Anyway, “Maximum Bob” was tons of fun, and even though I now feel compelled to read something more serious, I don’t think it will be the last Elmore Leonard book I read.

Got a comment? E-mail me at sfoss@dailygazette.net.