Tonight: Sir Sidney

Why do I have a bad feeling about this?

We should murder this guy. It's Kansas City. KC, as in Stengel. It's the team that traded us Roger Maris for Marv Throneberry. We should own this team. We should own this guy.

But a hallmark of our recent teams is hunger. You can't buy it. (That why I like Cody Ransom and Bret Gardner: They play with tape worms in their bellies.) We constantly face players who carry a grudge against the Yankees, or who hate New York because of its godlessness, so they play out of their minds, while our team sits in the dugout enjoying the death of God and downloading porn.

I bet Sidney throws hard today. And for reasons I can't explain, I came to like the big oaf. Watching the sweat fall off his forehead, it was like a toilet being flushed in his cap. Every game was a Seth Rogen comedy.

It's too early to call out players or draw conclusions. But we're going to face a fat, hungry pitcher tonight. Fat and hungry. That means you better move quick if you want a serving.