Monday, August 15, 2016
Posted by el duque at 7:23 AM
In the movies, last-ditch hopes come true.
Well, we're down to our final ditches. Sorry to be so bi-polar, but right now, every loss is a Lou "The Toe" Groza 50-yard field goal attempt directly to the balls. Today, the Yankees are a measly three games above .500 - five behind Boston in the Wild Card race - with 45 left to play.
Either we win the three game series with Toronto, or we should kiss the last-ditch vestige of last-ditch hopes goodbye. Right? If we lose this series, it's over, right? The phone rings, and we don't run to answer, right?
Ah, but that's not how last-ditch hope works, is it? Nope, we'll tell ourselves that we still have 42 games left, and there remains a mathematical chance that the Yankees win 12 in a row, led by Ray Milland and a secret wood-repellent potion, or some 12-year-old whose arm became super-charged by elbow surgery. Once again, Lucy will set the ball in place, and we will imagine that we are Lou The Toe.
But then comes Luis Severino... Mr. Reality Check.
Last spring, Sevy perked my greatest 2016 scenarios. He'd become our ace, our breakout pitcher, our all-star starter, our Pedro. When a certain ESPN pundit projected him as bullpen chum, the Yankiverse erupted with fury: More proof of the Yankee-hating media. At 21, Severino was poised to take NYC by storm.
Well, at 22, Severino is heading back to Scranton.. Of course, the key is "22" - he's two years younger than the "kids" now playing OF. Still, watching Severino get cuffed around by a slappy Rays lineup - ugh - not this year.
My last-ditch hopes just fell into the last and deepest ditch.