Friday, July 10, 2015

The world braces for another mega-clash between baseball's super titans: the Yankees and Redsocks!

Stand back, everybody! Stop everything, Earth!

It's Godzilla v. The Smog Monster!

It's Ali v. Frazier... Trump v. Oprah... Peanut Butter v. Jelly!

The two gargantuans of the game - New York and Boston - are ready to collide in an old-time death match, the kind of epic duel that America hasn't seen since the last days of dial-up. The Yankees - beasts of always-tough AL East - head to the Fenway deathyard to take on the blistering redhot Redsocks, winners of four in a row! That's right, kiddies... four!

Close your eyes, and you can feel the poltergeist vibes of Pedro and Zim, Torre and Terry, Bernie and Manny. At this very minute, Curt Schilling is slathering memorial ketchup into his penny loafters, and somewhere, Aaron Boone is staring into a camera... remembering.

Tonight we're gonna party like it's 1999.

That was sarcasm. OK? Sarcasm... "the use of irony to mock or convey contempt." Got that?

This is a three-game series between two teams whose records - if merged - would amount to two games above .500. If the Yankees lose all three, they will still head to the All-Star break tied for first and three up on Boston in - as The Master would say - "the all-important loss column."

If you're looking for screamer analogies, this is a clash between Ringworm and Chamydia. (The Yankees are itchy but treatable by a visit to CVS; the Redsocks are burning and desperate to see a doctor.) This is not a chess duel between Bobby Fischer and Watson. This is a chance for the Yankees to pull the trowsers off Boston's season and show the world what a shriveled cocktail weenie looks like. A three-game Yankee sweep would send their fan base on a torch-carrying rampage to John Henry's yacht. But it won't ensure anything for us. Two weeks from now, we can suffer a few injuries - (imagine A-Rod, or Gardy, or Tex going down; it aint hard) - and watch Lord Valtimore's Orioles run away with the Division, like last year. It's not September. It's not even August.

Don't mistake Boston's desperation tonight with October tension.

A month from now, we will look back on this series and laugh at the notion that the season ended for anybody. After this weekend, the two teams play each other nine more times - nine - including a four-game series in NYC that starts on Sept. 28. That one could well be Godzilla v. The Smog Monster... if old Smoggy gets his shit together.

That said, buckle up. It's been a while since a Yankee-Redsock series actually warranted the Fox Sports cameras. Here's hoping that we put the frat boys away... so the KCs and San Diegos can go at least another full spin without being forgotten in September. Let Schilling buy another bottle of ketchup. A Yankee triumph - or collapse - won't mean a damn thing. But when your choice is laughing or crying, I've come to prefer laughter. That's not sarcasm. That's truth.

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