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NEW YORK -- Ever seen a crowd in this city so quiet, so wet, so stupefied? This was to have been the beginning of another pinstripe coronation, the first in a series of Win One For The Boss vignettes in the House That Ruthlessness Built. Instead, all the puffy hubris was silenced on a rainy, windy Wednesday night by Cliff Lee, who began the year in woeful Cleveland and may end it in a pitching pantheon.

It wouldn't be wise to dismiss the Phillies as unworthy of these Yankees and this World Series backdrop. With Lee outdueling his best pal in baseball, CC Sabathia, consider Game 1 a firm reminder that the Phillies are the defending champions and not the least bit intimidated by the mammoth city to the north, a Taj Mahal ballpark in the Bronx and the massive payroll and talent of the Yankees. We winced when Jimmy Rollins, the mouthy leadoff man, boosted Jay Leno's sickly ratings when he went on the show and forecast another Philadelphia championship. "Of course, we're going to win," he chirped. "If we're nice, we'll let it go six, but I'm thinking five -- close it out at home."

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NEW YORK -- Set the clock, nudge awake the kids. There might not be a more fascinating evening in sports this year than Thursday night, when Pedro Martinez takes the mound at Yankee Stadium and flips the World Series on its rump.

Most anything Pedro does is must-watch theater. He turned a routine press conference before Wednesday's Game 1 into an astonishing revival session that included Martinez proclaiming he "at times [is] the most influential player that ever stepped in Yankee Stadium" and featured his first in-depth, blow-by-blow look back at his 2003 tussle with Don Zimmer. It was almost as if Martinez was craftily writing his own prelude to whatever might happen in Game 2, when he attempts to lift Philadelphia to a 2-0 Series lead.

Will Pedro's first World Series pitch since 2004 (a year that still makes Yankee fans' skin crawl) serve as a reminder to Derek Jeter that some things never change? More delicious, how will Pedro treat Alex Rodriguez? With deference owed a man who has finally (we think) proven October no longer makes him flinch? Or will Pedro buzz them both, buzz them all, and quickly silence the crowd's mocking chants?

Lets face it ... in this generation, sex sells. It also might win you World Series tickets if you place an ad on Craigslist offering yourself up for Phillies tickets.

Susan Finkelstein, 43, did just that, and after being stung by the cops (pun intended) she was charged with soliciting prostitution and related offenses. There is a happy ending, however (again, intended): Finkelstein has been awarded tickets by a local radio station and car dealership.

The story is bizarre enough, but the local ABC affiliate that reported it really hits some unintentional home runs.

Video after the jump.

ESPN fired baseball analyst Steve Phillips Sunday after learning of his affair with 22-year-old production assistant Brooke Hundley (who was fired a day later).

Phillips, who had a history of infidelity dating back to his days as the Mets general manager in the late 1990s, has now entered sex addiction rehab treatment facility, according to his agent.

Steve Lefkowitz, who represents Phillips, told the New York Daily News that "This was planned in advance. It has nothing to do with him getting fired. He's trying to save his marriage."

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NEW YORK -- The lords of baseball don't realize it, probably because they're old and stubborn and semi-senile. But their showcase event, the World Series, never has seemed more irrelevant in American life. I say it even as the New York Yankees, a world-famous brand name with gaudy stars and Hollywood girlfriends, return for the first time in six years to play the defending champion Philadelphia Phillies in what should be a compelling matchup of monstrous talent and East Coast psychosis.

The problem? Look at the calendar, stupid. The Series is starting later than ever, on Oct. 28, and potentially could finish with a Game 7 in what very possibly would be a frigid, blustery Yankee Stadium on November the friggin' fi-fi-fi-fifth. That means the Boys of Summer are perilously close to becoming the Icecubes of Winter, which is not the smart way to determine a champion in a game of intellectual nuance and patient, incremental drama. Though so many of these postseason contests have been cool to watch, I've also found myself thinking at times, "Can we please finish all this?" instead of sitting back and enjoying the action.

In less than a week, the news of the Steve Phillips-Brooke Hundley affair broke, ESPN issued a public statement on the matter, and today both Phillips and Hundley no longer work at the World Wide Leader.

Via the Associated Press: "An ESPN spokesman says the production assistant whose affair with Steve Phillips led to the baseball analyst's firing is no longer with the sports network.

Spokesman Mike Soltys said Monday that Brooke Hundley doesn't work at ESPN anymore. He declined to say whether she quit or was fired. Hundley did not immediately return a phone message Monday."

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NEW YORK -- The Angels will be haunted all season by their failure to do the little things correctly, such as not treating the baseball as if it were a ripe pumpkin. The Yankees, especially the unrivaled core four, played and then celebrated as if they had been there before, even if it has taken six long years for them to figure the way back.

Therein lies the difference between going home and booking a trip to the World Series, in two quick sentences. On a night when Andy Pettitte's cutter was nearly as biting as it was in 1996 when he pitched one of the greatest playoff games in Yankee history, the Angels tussled through more misplays in a series plagued with them. On a night when Mariano Rivera reached deep for a six-out save, the Angels strangled all opportunities to extend the American League Championship Series into a Game 7. They clumsily ran the bases, made some atrocious errors, stranded more runners. And the manager probably has a move or two he'd like to have back in the Yankees' 5-2 win that crushed the Angels' postseason and jump-started a New York-Philadelphia World Series.

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NEW YORK -- On a pleasant, Doppler-free evening made for bare, brawny forearms, Alex Rodriguez continued his postseason awakening without even swinging a bat. This was in the fourth inning, when the Angels were unable to employ their desired intentional walk because the bases were loaded. So as 50,000 fans stood and shrieked and awaited magic in the new Stadium -- all except Kate Hudson, who sat like she was waiting for Matt Dillon in You, Me and Dupree -- A-Rod stepped in and sought a pitch to rip into the galaxy.

The fat one never came. Joe Saunders walked him, forcing in the Yankees' third run when it was apparent that the Angels wouldn't score more than that off two Doctor Octobers, Andy Pettitte and Mariano Rivera. All that awaited were the police to ring their field, and when they arrived nearly at the stroke of midnight, the Yankees were celebrating their 40th American League pennant and first World Series trip in six years, which in these parts is an eternity.

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The Phillies are headed back to the World Series for the first time since ... winning it last year! Naturally, Philadelphia fans took to the streets to celebrate.

Some more than others, it seems. After the jump, video of one brainiac who thought it would be a good idea to jump on the roof of a cab stopped at a red light.

Everything was going well until the light changed.

ANAHEIM, Calif. -- "This is mine! Come on, Scioscia! This is MINE!" John Lackey shouted at his manager on the mound, scowling at him, then inserting a spicy word or two. Mike Scioscia, long respected as one of the game's wisest tacticians, didn't agree with his pitcher's assessment. He asked for the baseball and told Lackey to leave, even though he owned a 4-0 lead over the Yankees, had just retired the second out of the seventh inning, was burned on a ball-strike call to Jorge Posada -- now there's a shock, more bad umpiring -- and wanted very much to face Mark Teixiera and end a based-loaded rally.

For a time Thursday night, this stood as one of the most embarrassing managerial decisions in recent playoff history. Rather than stick with his best and gutsiest starter, Scioscia out-strategized himself and summoned veteran lefty Darren Oliver to face Teixiera, who was hitting .133 for the postseason when a wild night began near Disneyland. Teixeira promptly ripped a shot out by the rock pile and fountains at Angel Stadium, clearing the bases with a double. When Scioscia followed by intentionally walking Alex Rodriguez, Hideki Matsui made him pay again with a game-tying single. Scioscia made another move, going to young righty Kevin Jepsen. You know what was next: Robinson Cano said hello with a triple, driving in two runs for a 6-4 lead.