This is the weekend of the 2015 Mega-Yankee-mageddon-ocalypse

Well, comrades, we are finally here.

Over the last 100 million years, give or take an epoch, Space and Time conspired to form the universe, the planets, the continents and a life form capable of building its own imaginary world, where the doorbell rings, we open it, and in steps Terry Bradshaw, desperate to warn us about shingles. And believe it, we DON'T want to mess with shingles.

This weekend, the Yankiverse messes with shingles.

And let me take this moment to thank all of you readers and commentators for coming along for the ride this year. Whether you're backing me or spanking me, doesn't matter, it's always a comfort to know we're not alone in this Yankee delirium. (Keep in mind that Alphonso is still in France for a few more weeks, clinging to his beret and Turkish cigarettes, as he awaits the scores.)

Last night's rain-out gave our weekend showdown with Toronto an extra 24-hours of foreplay, an erection lasting so long that some of you are surely reading this in the emergency room. We've had an extra night to imagine everything that can go right or wrong. Saturday's double-header will mean to AL East race what Super Tuesday will do to next year's Presidential circus.

By Monday, we Yankee fans will either be bestriding the Earth as a colossus, or glancing over our shoulders at Phil Hughes and Minnesota, counting the seconds until October gets here. Yes, that feeling will be a mirage: We could sweep Toronto, then lose six in a row, and turn into Robby's Seattle. But I don't think that will happen... and neither do you.

We've been waiting three years for a game in September than wasn't the last, horrible gasp of a pipe dream. Our last appearance in the post-season brought us a 0-4 sweep at the hands of Detroit, a defeat so painful that - truth be told - I was secretly glad we didn't make the playoffs in 2013 and 2014, because I feared having to endure another such fiasco.

So, comrades, here we are: This weekend won't decide the season. Teams have suffered worst defeats in September and gone on to make history. But this is when we either slap down Toronto, or we start thinking about the one-game playoff - who will pitch, who will play 2B, and - aww, screw it - what a let down. The doorbell will be ringing, and I won't answer it. Lose this weekend, and 2015 is a season of shingles. A hundred million years... for this?