Big Game Tonight

I gotta feeling our luck is about to turn.

Remember Rocky in that movie? (Can't remember the name.) He was down and out, too. In fact, his manager, Mickey, (Yankee connection?) had all but given up hope. Rocky couldn't catch the chicken. Rocky wasn't even doing pushups correctly. (Which is hard to do.) Actually, I may have this mixed up with the sequel. Damn, I wish I could remember the name of that movie.

Well, dammit, we're Rocky!

Yo, Adrian, we can do it!

Yesterday, we couldn't catch fly balls. We couldn't hit a beachball. We got picked off first, and we couldn't even pay a smart-ass high-school chump $5 million big ones to quit college.

That means we're ready to turn the corner -- and win the Wild Card!

Was Rocky fighting for the Wild Card?

Doesn't matter.

I got a feelin'! It starts tonight! And go to hell, Alphonso, with all your negativo crapola! Hell, if this were a bar, instead of a blog, I'd throw you out the front door physically, then steal your woman. If the Yankees lose -- I'm not saying they will -- if they do, it's because you didn't believe!