Every time I think I’ve figured out you humans, you go and do something that I just don’t understand. I mean, I’m a worldly cat. I look at outside through the window. I follow politics. I have a job and responsibilities. And yet, still, you humans repeatedly confuse and disorient this orange tabby. Case in point: the World Series. I thought I made my feelings on human sports pretty clear when I told you my feelings on the Olympics. But clearly someone wasn’t listening because … the World Series.

Apparently, people support the "Giants" winning this thing. [Editor’s note: It’s over! No more trash cans set on fire! We finally get our neighborhood back! Oh. And the Giants won.] I cannot endorse that. Humans are big enough as is; giants would be terrifying. Considering how often I have to run away from Mommy and Daddy because their shoes make scary noises on the floor, giants would never work in our house. They probably always sound like that. Shouldn’t a kitty be allowed some kind of peace before the whole "FE FI FO FUM" thing? Besides, my research suggests that giants are savage monsters who eat adorable animals like me. I purred and scratched my way to the top of a food chain. I’m not giving that up for some giant.

Someone suggested that I should be a Giants fan because I live in the Bay Area. Here’s the deal. Frankly, if I were to become a Giants fan, it would be because they wear my colors — orange, black, and white. But, they don’t always wear those colors. They wear white uniforms a bunch of the time. I don’t bleach. Also, let’s get this straight: I live inside, and I’ve looked around. There are no giants here, of the baseball variety or otherwise. Both teams, as far as I can tell, live outside. I don’t go there. I’m not a big fan of the place. Why would anyone think I would be?

If I were to be a fan of either team, frankly, the Tigers are my sort of team. First of all, tigers are cats, so we have that in common. Secondly, I’ve heard they hate pandas, like I do. I think pandas pander. That must be where their name comes from. I mean, seriously, you’re a bear and you eat bamboo. Be a predator already. What’s wrong with you?

Also, if you look at the star players for both teams, my favorite is Prince Fielder. First of all, he’s a prince, and I respect noble titles. Second, look at the guy. There is a mammal who clearly enjoys eating and sleeping and doing as little else as he can get away with. So I think that he and I could have something not to talk about. Compare that with that Buster Posey guy. Posey is all young and scrawny and moves around a lot when he doesn’t have to. And he runs fast. That isn’t a Mina-style human. It’s a Ziggy-style human.

But even Prince Fielder couldn’t get me into baseball, to be honest. I’ll give you a quick rundown on everything wrong with baseball: 1) It’s outside. I like inside. 2) It’s loud, I don’t like loud. 3) It has sudden fast movements. I run from sudden fast movements. 4) It is full of people I don’t know. I don’t like people I don’t know. 5) It is a multi-participant non-contact sport. I prefer my sports high-contact, like Mina-Fu, or single participant, like Mina Yoga. 6) All that food at games, and not a drop of gravy. That’s just cruel. I love gravy.

So, humans, I saw how you reacted to my column on the Olympics. You ended them. They’re over. Here’s a modest proposal: Please do the same with this World Series thing, so we can all get back to important things, like gravy, and giving kitties scritchies, and cat-battles. [Editor’s note: It’s over! No more smashed bus windows! We get our whole city back! Oh. And, uh, the Giants won.]