BUY MY BOOK: BARD OF THE DEAL: THE POETRY OF DONALD TRUMP
Monday, July 23, 2012
Posted by el duque at 7:12 AM
Last week, we were throwing the masterpiece. Now, we resemble the September '11 Redsocks - booting grounders, throwing gophers, are we eating chicken in the clubhouse? You can barely hear John over the screetching of our fingernails the chalkboard, as we slide downward. We lost creatively. We lost authoritatively. We lost sincerely. Oakland made the plays. We just waited for a deal on car insurance.
Listen: It's a long season, and a slump like this was always fated to happen. We can't panic. Nor can we trade our way out of a fall. As the Rumster said, you go to war with the army you have. We now go to Seattle - where they'll be as psyched as Oakland was - with the Epplers, Nixes, Wises and Rapadas - the spare parts who have played so well, and whose manufacturer warranties may be running out.
Four dead in Oakland. Yeesh, it was painful. Sunday morning, I was absolutely certain that CC would staunch the bleeding. When we had the 4-0 lead, I would have bet the house. Then... poof, poof, poof... 4-3. And when Soriano blew the save, did anybody doubt that would lose? John didn't. You could hear it in his voice.
So we watched the A's celebrate at home plate. You would have thought they pitched a perfect game. I hope it wipes a few smiles off our faces. Because anyone who thinks the Yankees can't collapse is crazy. There is too much time left to play the prevent defense, to adopt the four-corner stall.
In fact, it's time to call the cards on this team. We either pull out of the tailspin, or we will die.
If we squander that 10-game cushion... if we fall back into an active pennant race... we are not going to win it. The next calls to the bullpen will be brought to us by Dr. Kervorkian. They don't sell insurance for what we'll be about to face.