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BY SCREAMIN' BILL LEEMAN

I think I'm having an out-of-body experience.   Would somebody please pinch me?  Yep, I'm in heaven.  Or Nirvana.  Or in a state of disbelief.   There is a part of me that is actually having trouble letting it sink in.

THE GIANTS ARE IN THE WORLD SERIES!  

Unbelievable.  The baseball gods are still with us.

You know, there is always a lot of talk about superstition and rituals in baseball.   The rally rags, Aubrey Huff's sequined red thong.   Some players never wash their shirts, or they wear the same filthy socks, or whatever.  Some players place their gloves in a certain juxtaposition at night.  Carry lucky icons in their pocket.  Not too many years ago, Curt Schilling wore the same bloody sock for an entire series.  

I've got friends who put on their Giants shirts and caps, set up all their bobble heads,  get out their rally towels and light candles.  

All of these things help, and we all have to do our part.  

I'm not really all that superstitous, but during the final game, when Brian Wilson came in in the eighth, I took off all my clothes and stood outside, naked, in the pouring rain.  Watched the rest of the game through my patio door.  

Look, we all need to pitch in.  Everyone needs to do what they can, that was my small contribution.  

Of course, when my wife saw me, she got on the phone to the paramedics.  (She knows so little about baseball!)  Luckily, it was just as Wilson struck out Ryan Howard to end the game, so I came in.  

But it worked!  We did it!  We are there!

The torture is over.  We can all relax now.  The chains have been lifted.  

We went out into the streets to join the celebration after the clinching game in Philly.   I've got to tell you, it was wild!  People all up and down both sides of the street, chanting,"Let's go Gi-ants, Let's go Gi-ants..."  Whooping and hollering and high five-ing everyone in sight, cars honking their horns, and busloads of fans being dropped off in the midst of it all!   I haven't seen a celebration like that since the 49ers won their first Super Bowl.  

The reason this celebration was so special is because this season has been so special.   Unique.   Not like your conventional championship season.   Ours was not a juggernaut of a team, mowing down opponents with ease.  We fought tooth and nail for every win.  Almost every single game for the last half of the season was a torture chamber; a nail-biting study in agony.  We all suffered mightily as the Giants endured hideous losses, coupled with miraculous wins, as each and every contest went right down to the wire.

All these nail-biters have a way of getting into our psyche.  Using smoke and mirrors game after game makes us edgy.  The tension builds.   Day in and day out, we become more and more anxious.   It IS like torture.   Watching  seven or eight or nine innings of one run games every day creates apprehension and suspense.  

As we began to realize that we had a chance to go all the way, the suspense and anxiety intensified dramatically.  The stress was palpable, and didn't let up until that final out in Philly.  

So, when we finally won it, all that pent-up frustration needed to be let out!  Dancing in the streets!  Man, oh man, what a night!

Then, a day of rest, and a chance to come back to our earthly bodies, and breathe again.  

Phew.