Well... here we are.
Hughes has finally pitched himself out of the rotation, Joba is starting to learn Japanese, our mighty bullpen is burned out, Jeter is still hobbling to first, and A-Rod has returned as the 2012 model, which means nobody's going to hand him an MVP trophy. And yet... here we are.
Who figured Ivan Nova would be AL Pitcher of the Month (and Alfonso Soriano should be the corresponding Player?) Gardner is smoking hot, Grandyman is measuring pitches instead of trying to crush HRs, Nunez is everywhere, and Austin Romine - geez, is he 40? - actually looks like the future of Yankee catching.
So here we are.
Four games with mighty Boston - the team that never gets caught juicing - and then four with the Showalter Shanks. We cannot even go 4-4.
Hard to imagine us being still in it a week from tomorrow.
But holy crap! Here. We. Are.
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And the Blood Sox come in on the heels of pounding Detroit 20-4. The question is...are they that hot or did they just flame out playing their competition for the AL flag?
We've seen it plenty of times before. A team wins a big series against a big-time rival and then they're emotionally exhausted and lose 3 out of 4 to the Shreveport Schlubberines.
And we're decidedly better than the Schlubberines these days. Although I'm sure Joe will carefully check his binders and make sure we're playing guys who have the lowest possible batting average against righties and lefties.
No, I will not let that go.
I am filled with anticipation, and it is most delicious.
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