The World Serious...that's what Gracie, our six year granddaughter, is calling the World Series, and it works for me, because suddenly everyone here in northern California is serious about the series. It's the lead story on the news at night and just about all anyone wants to talk about, and if you're anywhere near the San Francisco Bay Area, as I am, you'd darned well better be a Giants fan!

I am most definitely not a fan of professional sports—my personal opinion of most professional athletes is pretty poor. Blame the media or our need to make heroes out of celebrities, but the emphasis on money and bad behavior has gotten so over the top that it turns me off. I love high school sports and Little League, and thoroughly enjoy weekend soccer with the grandkids, but rarely can I sit through a professional athletic event. I'd rather read a good book.

So, why am I so caught up in this year's series between the San Francisco Giants and the Texas Rangers? I can only say it's because there really aren't any stars involved. Instead of a battle of egos, we're seeing two teams made up of what even the sportscasters and experts are calling a bunch of odd balls and misfits—guys who've been traded around because they weren't doing all that well, who have somehow come together to create two really interesting teams.

I don't know much about the Texas Rangers, but I do feel as if I'm getting to know more about the men playing on the Giants—and I use the term "men" loosely. Some of them are just boys! One of the pitchers is only twenty-one, the catcher, Buster Posey, is twenty-three and looks about sixteen. Tim Lincecum, their starting pitcher, is all of twenty-six. (And for you ladies from the great PNW, he's from Belleview, Washington.)

There are a few with beards, and a right-fielder who just joined the team a few weeks ago after he was released from his original team, who can knock the ball a mile and rarely stops grinning. And when you watch them play, the amazing thing about the team is that they're actually playing. They're deadly serious about winning, but they all look as if they're having a blast. Maybe it's because none of them really expected to be in this position—playing in the ultimate baseball series—because not a single one of the Giants is a star. They're a team. Some nights one guy does well while another falters, and on another night it's someone else picking up the slack.

Even more, I realize that what is bringing this series to life for me is that I'm watching one of the greatest stories going—it's an ageless tale of someone who's not expected to win the fight, getting up there and showing the world that with enough heart and soul, anything is possible.

Whichever team wins this series, it's going to be a terrific contest—two teams who were not expected to reach this point, going toe to toe in front of a worldwide audience. The really cool thing is, it's got everything you look for in a good book, which is probably why I'll be glued to the TV until the last game is played.