Wasn't it last year when Gary Sanchez muffed that fatal throw home, launching the Astros' victory celebration in the 2017 ALCS? Wasn't it the previous millennium? Certainly, it was pre-Trump, pre-Judge, pre-Harvey (Weinstein)... a long, long time ago, back before the floods.
Wait. No. I looked it up: It was four days ago. Believe it or not, the Wikipedia thingy claims that it happened on Oct. 14, 2017 - four days ago, barely a Vernon Wells-hitting streak, as time is measured within Yankee fossil records. Back then - jeez, it feels like a century ago - Aaron Judge was baseball's saddest soul, dwarfed by the swaggering, Bunyanesque presence of Jose Altuve, who bestrode the Earth like a colossus. Back then, we were the team without a DH, or a closer, or a manager with a clue. Back then, we were backsliding into the Keuchel Abyss, victims of the Yankees' death star - (whom someone in last night's chat brilliantly called "Rutherford B. Hayes") - forever to pine for Jorge Mateo and James Kaprielian. It was a different fucking universe back then... four days ago.
So don't get cocky, comrades. We still have work to do. Come Sunday, we could be right back in that smoldering dumpster, fighting the rats for those last KFC wrappers, being forced to root for Eli Manning on his quest for Win No 2.
The road to the series goes through Hell. Instead of "M-V-P" chants, Judge will hear "LOCK HER UP!" If he crashes into the right field wall, the crowd won't flinch; they'll expect Mexico to pay for a new one. If Judge tanks, Trump will call him "Liddle Aaron," (along with "Crooked Didi" and "Lyin' Joe.") Lose the next two, and everything reverts to that prehistoric era when Las Vegas stood for showgirls, Napa Valley stood for wine, and we were a mere wild card floating on the devil's breeze.
Today, I must keep pinching myself. (This is not the bath salts, stupid! It's really happening.) Our "thumbs down" gesture is becoming a national meme. Gary Sanchez is alive. The MLB meat puppets are already hyping the next Yankee dynasty. It's as if Houston has accepted its fate, and we should already be learning to spell Yassel Piug, or Yasiel Puig - whatever. But actually, nothing has changed.
We still must beat Houston in Houston. We must still beat Verlander as Verlander. If we lose Friday, they become the team with the momentum, the crowd, the sense of destiny. They become the team with Kate Upton. If we lose Friday, we're the ones suddenly blotted out by the cold shadow of Mount Altuve. If we lose Friday, last night's win will feel like a hundred years ago. And everything that happened in the last three nights will leave a bitter taste of the inconsequential.
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Okay, there were too many typos, so I deleted the original post. I deleted the “mea culpa” post about my typos, and I corrected it and am reposting. I wish there were “edit” functions on this board, but I know I have to pony up the big bucks for the “Gold Pinstripe” level to get those tools, so I’ll just delete and repost.
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Exactamundo. We need to keep it in the day and we will ALL be better off if we treat every moment as though our backs are up against the wall and they are starting to raise the barrels of their rifles and we're too busy to even think "how do I get out of this one?" That's how I've lived my whole life and look at where it's gotten me: broke, alone, worried about health insurance and just wanting to get a dog. That being said, my desperation and paranoia have served me well. I found this blog, didn't I?
Anyway, we have to keep it in the day, not lapse into crazy pipe dreams about reaching the Series or beyond. I continue to maintain that 2018 is looking good, but we need to focus on the day. And it's Girardi's job to keep his young charges, the Bam Bam Boom Boom Baby Bombers, also IN the MOMENT. In fact, I'm blaming it on HIM if they fall into a mental lapse over the next 30 hours.
Good column, Duque. Let's keep calm, cool and collected here. One goddamned day at a time.
Agree on all, but boy oh boy, these are great days.
The second coming seems imminent. The eagle will land and saucers spotted. Stars are aligning and this is all happening down here, in the Lowlands where the DidiMaster has his roots.
The Netherlands seems to become that point in the universe where all gravity waves converse.
Next Friday New York, LA and Amsterdam are in sync.
So yes I feel pretty confident about the short term future.
Hey, let's all chip in and get 13bit a dog!
I'm living in the moment, and WOW WOW WOW, what a sweet fucking moment.
And El Duque, your correct in saying that if they lose the next two games, it will be hard to truly recall the out of body happiness that I'm feeling right now, which is honestly a shame, but that's why they write existential poetry, and why my shrink charges the outrageous prices that she charges, LOL!
What I won't forget is all the fun I've had visiting this site, many thanks my friends!
Now it's off to slay Zoolander,,,,
GOOoooOOOOO YANKEES!!!!!!!
@Parson Tom, count me in!
I'M JUST WALKING AROUND MY HOUSE, AND EVERY 5 MINUTES, I BLURT OUT, "JUDGEY!, JUDGEY!"
I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING.
IT FEELS LIKE WE ARE BEING REWARDED FOR DEALING WITH THE LAST 5 REALLY SHITTY SEASONS.
WE NEED TO ATTACK IN HOUSTON.
IT ISN'T OVER YET.
13 BIT IS RIGHT.... ONE GODDAMN DAY AT A TIME.
GO YANKS.
TheWinWarblist warbled ...
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggrrrrrrrrRRRRRrrrrggggggggaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We can say any number of things about where we are now, but I don't think any of them quite sums it up as well as Win Warblist.
Thank you for the kind thoughts. I lost mine two years ago and I have been kind of waiting for the universe to send me a new one, but I have my usual half assed plan in place and hope to have one before the first snows fall Here in lower Manhattan/Siberia.
https://youtu.be/CYhHIe_UELM
Warble it. Warble it proudly. Run around your office or TV pantless and screaming. Friday will be a great and emotional night no matter the outcome. Too long our Octobers have been cold and empty and our dreams as dashed and as broken as we all hope Joe Buck's rectum will be. Win or lose on Friday, we will be fully alive. Virginia Wolf called them 'moments of being.' Moments in which a Yankee fan experiences a true sense of reality, in contrast to the states of 'non-being' that dominate most of an Yankees fan conscious life during the off-season, in which we are separated from reality by a thick, anesthetizing layer of hot-stove blather. Moments of being like when in 1996 we all awoke from the stupor of Stump Merrill era.
13bit, perhaps this will give you comfort about your longing for a dog. Our adorable 7 month old puppy, Pepper, gobbled down a bean and cheese enchilada last Friday when we were trying to get our youngest to bed. Jumped onto the kitchen table and scarfed down the whole thing.
Pepper then spent the next two days crapping diarrhea all over the bedroom, house and front stoop and lawn. I've ordered a professional size carpet cleaner. Woof woof!
Dogs are good for the soul because they do have souls.
What's good for my soul is watching Greg Bird play first base. His stretches seem to reach out a full 10 feet, his tosses to pitchers are perfect and he handles the grounders silky smooth. Texiera was considered an excellent fielder. Bird may be even better. And if he ever gets a full season under his belt, we might find out just how good he really is as a hitter. Looking forward to this!
The euphoria of the last few days is rare. I'm enjoying it. Don't know what's going to happen in Houston, but we gotta celebate what did happen in New York.
Everything you say is true, Duque, but the euphoria is still overwhelming.
I feel like this is the moment in the movie when they crank up, "Right Back From Where We Started From," and go to a montage of the Yankees doing marvelous things.
Judge homers, Sanchez doubles, Gardner slides headfirst across the plate.
"Ooh and it's all right and it's coming along
We gotta get it right back to where we started from..."
Sanchez homers, Judge doubles, Didi triples. Tanaka pumps his fist and howls.
"Love is good, love can be strong
We gotta get right back to where we started from..."
Sing it, Maxine! Sing it!
Hey 13bit, Bird is a great name for a dog! <3
MAXINE NIGHTINGALE HOSS!
LOVE IT.
Hoping that on Friday, the Rastros will be saying "Ruh-Roh".
Playing now: Maxine Nightingale - Right Back Where We Started From.
I love you all, you heathen bastards, my tribe.
Does that mean you'll come to my place and steam clean my carpets, because ho-boy! that enchilada did not agree with the puppy!
"I'M JUST WALKING AROUND MY HOUSE, AND EVERY 5 MINUTES, I BLURT OUT, "JUDGEY!, JUDGEY!"
This man needs help.
Remember the Keith Hernandez episode on Seinfeld, WinWarblist: too soon. Also too soon to move heavy furniture for you.
HoCla, I was talking to 13bit!
I really want the world to know about this great man who brought back happiness into my life again after my husband left me and the kids 3 years ago for another women online when i contacted Dr Believe he cast a love spell for me within 48 hours my ex husband start calling me and begging for forgiveness for everything that have happened between us. I was so happy to have my family back together with love again here is the email of Dr Believe via believelovespelltemple@gmail.com a man with the great powers you can also call him or add him on Whats-app: +2348156148821
God bless you
I am very grateful for your help in my marriage.
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