Wednesday, September 21, 2016
Posted by el duque at 7:07 AM
The Yankees have 12 games left, and we are just three losses below Baltimore for the away-field wild card joy buzzer, so - YES - we can still win it! We win all 12, and then run the table in the playoffs... the greatest Yankee comeback in history. It'll make the Bucky Dent season look like canned sardines. Hell, it'll be the Greatest Comeback in World History. Bigger than Nixon. Bigger than post-war Germany. Bigger than the Christ resurrection, dammit, bigger than Mickey Rourke winning the Golden Globe for The Wrestler. Damn, it'll beat - um - the 2004 Redsocks? Wait a minute. I need more Kool-Aid. Glug, glug, glug. OK, we win the next 12, then roll through October, and we'll exorcise the demons from this down millennium and restore the universe to its rightful balance. Right? FUKKIN MICKEY ROURKE! DAMMIT, MICKEY CHARLES ROURKE!
Excuse me. I gotta go soak my head in a bucket of ice water.
I'm back. OK, we just dreamed of the Greatest Comeback in World History. Now, let's discuss the One True Reality of the 2016 Yankees, emblazoned into our heads over the last two weeks:
Every time we won a few, we turned around and lost a few. All season long. We'd win a couple, raise hopes, then lose a couple and piss on them. Most recently, we won seven in a row, puffing up like a tropical guppie. Then... ka-boom: We lose six of seven, putting us here... fourth in the AL East... where we belong, I guess.
Moreover, the recent series against Boston and Los Angeles exemplified our charity work. Whenever we scored a few, our pitchers quickly gave them back.
So look... we might get hot against Tampa. Right now, I'm not sure the Rays could beat the Scranton-Wilkes Barre Railriders. But whatever happens, we'll give it back. We are six games above .500. I'd say that's about right. Summer ends today. Autumn will go quickly. (Moon Big Papi!) Then comes the long winter.
And here's a pin for the sex doll balloon fantasy: According to the Internet, Brian Cashman is supposedly one of four GMs hot for Jose Fernandez, whom the Marlins will put up for auction this winter. To get him, we would bundle most - in not all - of our best prospects, and don't think for a minute that it couldn't include Gary Sanchez. These days, the price for a 25-year-old ace is astronomical, and we would be bidding against Boston, which somehow seems to have more prospects and more money than poor old Food Stamps Hal.
With or without Sanchez, we would trade a boatload of young talent for a guy who has thrown a lifetime of pitches over his first four years, and who has already undergone Tommy John surgery, and if that doesn't sound like a typical Cashman cash-back debacle - (remember Jeff Weaver? remember Javier Vasquez?) - then what the hell does? In fact, we would simply be returning to our usual slovenly, craven, big-contract malaise. You could say we were restoring the Yankiverse to its rightful balance, eh? We're already moving in that direction. (Yes, the Billy Butler signing did spook me.) Wait a minute, where's that Kool-Aid? I need a drink.