Yanks lose and it doesn't matter, because we are Wild Card material

Listen: We're in the Wild Card one-game playoff. Nothing will change this. We're Wild Card stock, Wild Card worthy, Wild Card-carrying Wild Carders. So we lost last night? Boo-fucking-hoo. We're five up on the Angels - and we're not catching the Redsock '17 Hall of Fame Superteam of Destiny (TM). Nope, we're just Wild Carding, killing time until our 9-inning season, now three weeks away, arrives. We're authentic, Grade B, passable, government-inspected, mid-level Wild Card material. 

Sure, we could still fall apart. If this team were a comic book villain, that would be our super-power: The ability to instantly collapse into nothingness. The terrifying Doctor Disappear! But we're no longer battling Cleveland or Houston. Look who we're up against: Two .500 teams (Texas, KC), the Always Awful Angels (TM) and Minnesota, which remains a year away from dominance. For us to miss the wild card, California must win 13 of 18, and even then, all we'd have to do is go 9 and 9. Say what you will about the slightly-above-mediocrity (SAM) 2017 Yankees, but they ARE a .500 team.

Whenever something rises, something else falls. We're a perfect Rube Goldberg leveling device. First, the hitters go out. Then the bullpen. Then the starters. Then Joe delivers a loss. Someone is always doing their part to maintain the perfection of SAM. 

Aaron Judge whacks two HRs against Texas, raising hopes for an end-of-season streak to dispel the roiling clouds of fear over his long term future. So what does he do against Tampa? Oh for six with five strikeouts! If not for the walks, he'd be a total wipe-out. Does anybody think he'll get walked in the Wild Card game? (I don't.) 

Greg Bird returns, whacks HRs against Boston, raising hopes that the player we briefly glimpsed two Septembers ago, and during March fantasy camp, will finally arrive. Then - POOF - he's popping up, grounding out and talking about back spasms. Since returning, he's .214. For this, we ditched Chris Carter? And another injury? Dear God, where is Tyler Austin? Where is Garrett Cooper? Where is - gulp - Lyle Overbay? 

Starlin Castro returns, gets a few hits, raising hopes for the early summer power lineup to finally re-emerge. Nope. He's 0-14 in his last three games, including two strikeouts last night. He says, "I'm late with the fastball and out in front with the off-speed." Oh? Isn't that marvelous? Maybe he'll fix it in time for the one-game season?

Last night, once again, you turned on the YES crapola spigot and watched strikeouts and popups, strikeouts and popups, strikeouts and popups, and you knew - YOU JUST KNEW - the Yankees weren't going to score twice. The Rays were homeless, fatigued, stressed from wondering if their homes are flooded and their kids are safe, and with a tad of luck today, they'll take two out of three in alien NYC, when only the Yankees should give a damn. 

Nope, the 2017 Yankees would make a great super villain. We would be Captain Light Switch, with the amazing ability to turn on and off. And soon, our origin and our fate will be decided over the span of nine innings. Until then, nothing matters. We are what we are: Wild Card material.