Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Posted by el duque at 7:18 AM
Little known fact: As a teen, I was bitten by a genetically altered clone of Matt Nokes, which gave me powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal man. My secret super power? On occasion, I can somehow channel the entire disassembled zeitgeist of the Yankiverse, and present it into one crisp, cohesive, primal bleat. Today is one of those moments.
I am about to close my eyes and let my Nokes-enhanced superfingers autonomously dance upon the keyboard, speaking for the Yankee multitudes whose tongues this morning are too grief-stricken and gin-swollen to move. Here goes:
Yep. That's it. Fukkit. That's what she's a-thinkin.' Trust in the Force, sir. And the Force today is saying... Fukkit.
This morning, the Redsock Nation is congratulating itself, pleasuring itself, imagining itself at Curt Schilling's airport security pat-down, and putting in vacation requests for next October's ring ceremony at Fenway. They're so smart, so full of righteousness. After all, they suffered all those years, when Uncle Harry died without winning a World Series. Now, they can stuff themselves at the MLB cruise ship buffet, while the world admires their frat boy butts for never gaining weight.
Yep, this week, Boston won the 2015 World Series. So... fukkit.
Listen: Those idiots just signed Hanley Ramirez for five years. Trust me, he will replace Manny Ramirez on so many levels that, to understand things, you'd need the Monty Python troop to make a movie. And then there is the fabulous Kung Fu Panda, who certainly looks like a young version of David Ortiz, so he's sure to grow into an older one, am I right? Hey - maybe it will work, as long as the MLB drug task force only investigates Yankees.
Yep. They won. It's over. They now have six outfielders and can trade for somebody, anybody - King Felix and Clayton Kershaw, most likely - and throw in Mike Napoli, because they have no place for his clanking glove either. Let's just stand back and let the world admire this fantastic conglomeration of horse meat.
So... why am I thinking of Carl Crawford?
Sir... breathe. Just breathe.
The next two weeks could make or break the Yankees' 2015 season. This is no time to run out and trade for anybody named Elvis - or Tulo - or, for that matter, anybody known by one name. We have a guy known by one name. The one name is A-Rod. Do we want another? If so, I'd go for Liberace before I'd take Tulo, at the price Colorado will demand - especially in the aftermath of a Boston chess move.
It's a long long drop from Hanley and Pando to the dark pit known as Chase Headley. It's like the difference between Max Scherzer and Brandon McCarthy. And it's possible that, for now, the Yankees are merely playing for the 2015 Wild Card Away Field One Game Birth. It's possible that, for now, the Yankees must realistically be looking to 2016. But I don't think such things. This is no time to go nuts over a back page on a throw-away paper. The last time we went crazy over a Boston signing, we brought Kei Igawa to New York City - and doubled their long term celebrations.
Let them party.
We got them where we want them. Fukkit.