The year was 1968. The Ohio Express were taking pop music to previously unreached heights with the single “Yummy, Yummy, Yummy (I got love in my tummy).” The top-rated television program, “Gomer Pyle, USMC,” was challenging social conventions and paving the way for other cutting-edge situation comedies such as “Family Affair.” Everyone knew the Nehru Jacket was here to stay. And the Detroit Tigers were battling the St. Louis Cardinals in a classic seven-game World Series.

So little has changed in 38 years. Detroit and St. Louis are hooked up again in another Fall Classic, but instead of Bob Gibson vs. Mickey Lolich, it’s Jeff Weaver vs. Kenny Rogers.

On paper, this looks like yet another easy championship for the American League representative. The Tigers backed their way into the playoffs but plowed through the New York Yankees and the Oakland A’s like last year’s White Sox. The Cardinals nearly suffered an historic collapse, finished with 83 wins and went down to the last inning with a New York Mets team that has Steve Trachsel, Oliver Perez and John Maine start five of the NLCS’ seven games.

Detroit is not just an overwhelming favorite, having already been labeled this year’s Team of Destiny by many, they are the national darlings of the 2006 World Series. Three years removed from losing an almost unfathomable 119 games, they were heavy underdogs who earned America’s eternal gratitude by embarassing the New York Yankees in the first round, then picked up some serious style points by taking their boisterous, champagne-soaked celebration to the fans just moments after winning. They then finished off the ALCS in style with Magglio Ordonez’s series-ending home run.

Outside of Ordonez and catcher Ivan Rodriguez, the Tigers are a roster of no-names, some of whom may become household names in seven days. They are an easy team to like, in large part because of their manager, Jim Leyland.

Leyland looks like someone who should be moseying into a saloon with a satchel full of gold nuggets in some John Ford western about the California gold rush, and he may be the only coach in sports today who has players bumming cigarettes off of him after a game. I giggle like the Pillsbury Dough Boy every time I think about him managing circles around Tony LaRussa, the so-called genius, on national television. Leyland manages with his gut, while LaRussa is touted as a master strategist. The contrast in styles in styles alone makes this a series worth watching.

Maybe Team of Destiny looks better when spelled with the olde English D that serves as the Detroit Tigers’ logo, but hold on a minute. As Dennis Green so brilliantly screamed just six days ago, if you want to crown ’em, then crown ’em, but the Cardinals are not who we think they are. They have got some serious karma going for themselves. That’s St. Louis Cardinals, not the Arizona Cardinals, obviously.

The Mets looked unbeatable for much of the regular season, like the National League’s own Team of Destiny. Then they lost the two pitchers they’d pegged to start Game 1 just before the playoffs began, to the same injury no less. By the time the Cardinals saw them, their hitting had gone south (come on, Jeff Suppan didn’t do it all himself).

Yet the Cardinals still appeared to be doomed in Game 7 when Endy Chavez made one of the greatest catches ever. Meanwhile, Scott Rolen was impersonating Scott Cooper, their once-potent offense was getting as many home runs from Suppan and So Taguchi as Albert Pujols, and Scott Spiezio had develped some awful skin disease below his lower lip.

But the Cards bucked history, becoming the first road team since the 1975 Reds to win Game 7 after losing Game 6. And the Sultan of Swat who delivered them from certain defeat? Yadier Molina, of the famous Molina Brothers (Yadier, Benji, Jose and Alfred).

When a team wins 83 games and still makes the playoffs, overcomes a momentum-changing catch on the road, gets a series-winning homer from a catcher batting .216, and gets an MVP performance from Jeff Suppan, something supernatural is going on.

I’m not prepared to crown the Cardinals, but I’m not prepared to dismiss them, either. I’m not convinced this year’s Team of Destiny is the one wearing the D.

Randy Whitehouse is a staff writer. He can be reached by e-mail at [email protected]