In death, the Boss named IT IS HIGH JULY YANKEE EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH

I am writing with tears in my eyes.

This is like the money scene in "Rudy" where the 80-pound, walk-on dork rumbles onto the gridiron for the ol' fightin' Irish, lines up across from Bubba Smith and puts the monster DT on his back, just from sheer spite against black men, to lead ol Fightin' Notre Dame to a 10-10 tie and the National Championship. Hell, it's like the last song in Beatlemania, where Fake John slowly fades into the darkness, as if Fake Paul, George and Ringo know that the magic is about to be cut short by the bullets of a madman.

George Steinbrenner finally has achieved the Preferred Parking Spot.

If there is a curse of IIH Yankee Employee of the Month, it ends today.