FIFTY THOUSAND MOONS
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Posted by el duque at 6:17 AM
The game ended in fury, outrage, disgrace. If it happened in the NFL Sunday, the owners would have settled with the refs' union by now.
But lo and behold, we mauled Baltimore for nine innings on Sunday. We took a 5-0 lead, survived Freddy Garcia, then tacked on what in the hell nights of August would have been a week's worth of runs. Tonight, we see if this team -without Teix for two weeks, assuming the Yankees are telling the truth - can find what we haven't seen since July.
The Wretchedsocks will be lurking like Bond supervillains with one final trick up their sleeves. Ever since Boston punted the Father, Son and Holy Ghost to LA, the frathouses have circled this series as the final games of interest. This could salvage the memory of Bobby V's last days. If they sweep us, or take two of three, we again become the listing, dead-in-the-water tanker -- and they'll laugh at us all winter, as we did them last year.
I don't know what galvanizes a team. I recall Phil Linz tossing a harmonica at Yogi, or Jeet's dive into the stands, or the Gerbil charging Pedro from the dugout. Right now, the injustice of Teixeira's magnificent effort - and the price he paid - could put that moment up there in the pantheon of Yankee memories. If we survive this race, it could top his walkoff playoff HR as Teix's greatest Yankee moment.
All because the ump was checking out that hussy. Bruce Willis survives. Go figure.
Two in row, goddammot. Tonight. Close your eyes. Think two in a row.