Once again: 27 outs for 27 rings. It’s Mariano Duncan time. We play today; we win today; dass it. (Trivia: did you, like me, forget that Duncan was on the 1993 Phillies? If not, you’re probably a Phanatic. Anyway.)

Andy, by his own admission, couldn’t put the ball where he wanted it on Saturday. Then he settled in, fought back, stifled Philadelphia, the offense lifted him, and we won. He called it a grind. It was. Like Jorgie used to say: we grind it. That’s how we win.

I think we’re going to take it tonight — hence “The Takeover.” We’re back home, with Andy pitching, the way it was with the classic teams of the last dynasty. Pedro is getting ready to hear the chants from the stands that he hears in his fitful sleep. Somewhere in the clubhouse, Wade Boggs is feeding oats to a Thoroughbred Stallion on loan from the NYPD. It’s just a feeling I have. But if we don’t, we take it tomorrow, with CC going against Cole Hamels. There is a calm that washes over me. Confidence and serenity. I want to watch baseball now, and feel the universe return to a certain state of balance.