Thursday, September 19, 2013

Do you believe in miracles? Nooooooooo!

Truth: I thrusted and moaned last night until the seventh inning, then pulled out and soaked my fanhood in a bucket of ice water, until the throbbing diminished. There's a point where you're losing to another cupcake, nobody's hitting, and you wonder what you're doing with your life... bothering to watch, to care, to self-immolate. Over the years, I've hit that blood-slicked crossroads many times. Last night, in the seventh inning, I reached it again:

My Liam Hemsworth-fed-up-with-Miley Cyrus moment.

Doesn't matter how great she twerks, how cool she is, or the things she can do on a coffee table. You just can't take another shutout. She strands too many base runners, which is a way of describing blue balls - midnight blue balls - and you have to leave. So you flick off the TV and drive away, and the moment you're gone, she holds a party, scores four runs in the eighth, and brings in Mo to get the save. You can't win.

Maybe if I'd left the 2013 Yankees two weeks ago, we'd still be in a relationship. But it's over, me and Miley. And it's over for all of us.

Ten games left. We are four in the loss column behind Tampa Bay. Even if we sweep them, which we won't, we can't overtake them. We are three behind Texas, two behind both Cleveland and Baltimore, and tied with Kansas City. If we win all 10 - which we won't - some team will also get hot. We are the Anthony Weiner of this wild card race: Everybody is rooting against us, laughing at us, taunting us, but because we get all the media attention, some people assume we're in the lead. We are the cupcake in this race. It's over. 

I'm sorry to be this way. Really. I prefer to remember the young Miley, back in April, when Vernon Wells and Pronk delivered huge hits, and we believed the cavalry was en route. We united behind A-Rod, despite the scorn of the world. We suffered with Jeet and Tex, and we waited and waited and waited for Grandy. We battled to believe. Good grief, there are still Yankee fans out there who think Joba would have been a great starter...

My friends, hope is a terrible thing to lose. You never forget your first love - whether it was Mickey, Thurman, Mariano or Miley. Here's to you, kid. We'll always have Disney.

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