Designed to Kill

I used to experience something as a sports writer that I've experienced again following the recent World Series victory by the San Francisco Giants.
Often in the world of sports, it's bothersome to people when one team wins so many titles in a short period of time. It's understandable. Everyone wants to win but when one team is doing the lion's share of winning, it becomes annoying for others.
But the experience I'm talking about isn't rooted in that. In fact, I'm not really sure what it's rooted in because I don't understand the logic behind it. That's probably because there is no logic behind it. The idea I'm talking about is one that has been expressed by some in baseball and by a few sports writers around the country, which is the notion that the best team didn't win the World Series this year. Sometimes I'd hear fans express the same thing at games I covered. The best team didn't win. Further, the idea, as it relates specifically to the World Series this season, doesn't apply to the San Francisco Giants alone. The reason this idea has gained any traction at all is people seem to think it's true even if the Royals had won the World Series. The Giants and Royals, after all, were wild card teams and, thus, barely got into the playoffs to begin with.
So is it true? Did the best team win the World Series? The simple answer is yes. And here's how I know: the best team always wins the World Series...or the Super Bowl or any other game in question. Figuring out which team is better is 100% of the reason games are played. People can throw all the "yeah, but..." scenarios they want to at the question, the answer remains the same. The best team always wins.
But look at the ERA or the batting average, but what about the home runs or the...
It's meaningless. Statistics only tell you what has happened, not what will happen. Fantasy sports are just that, a fantasy. Who has the best this, that or anything else is irrelevant in the real world. The Giants faced more "no team has done (X) since..." scenarios than I can remember. But they did it this year. The only stat that matters and the only one that ever, ever matters is the final score. Oh, but think of all the breaks, the lucky bounces, the bloopers, the walks, the errors by the other team. OK. Think about it. And think about fumbles and penalties and injuries and technical fouls and muscle cramps. Think about all of it, because it's all part of the game and it all counts. The Royals were nearly eliminated in the wild card game. Nearly...but they weren't.
And that's the whole point. Championships aren't the ascension of the great over mediocrity through the will, desire and effort of individual components. Championships are now, have always been and always will be about perseverance and survival.
The regular season is about reaching the playoffs. Once a team gets to the playoffs, they are destined to lose their final game of the year. Only one team will win their final game of the season. Only one team survives the injuries, the mistakes, the success of the other team, bad calls, bad weather, bad breaks. Only one team survives it all. How in the world could you not consider any team that lives through a process designed to kill all anything other than a champion?
Every team starts in the same spot. They all follow their own path throughout the season. Most fail. Some reach the playoffs and the one that do earned it, whether they are a wild card, went 7-9 in a weak division or stumbled backwards into the post season, some how, some way, they earned their spot. From there, the champion obeys the one and only rule: don't die. And when there is one and only one survivor left, what is the point of measuring how they were able to live? They won. That's how they lived. Everything else is meaningless.