So much for momentum, Yanks fall to another tomato can

Damn, it seemed so perfect... Who better to launch a winning streak against than Boston? The planets were lined up, the weather was breaking, our tweaked gonads were shrinking back to the size of kettle corn, the always-lovable KC and the Sunshine Band were coming to town - everything stood in place for a sweet little four-game sweep, while we sang "Shake Your Bootie" to the juju gods. You could feel it. Damn...

Then, nothing... We didn't show up. Not only that, we didn't call in sick. We didn't hold them in the first inning, we blew it in the third, we never figured out their starter, our bullpen topped it off with a floater in the punch bowl - a total team botch job. And to date, that sums up the 2019 Yankees. We fail a lot, and we fail together.

There are whispers growing in the back alleys of baseball that big-spending Boston could actually be in trouble - that its horrendous start portends weaknesses that won't vanish in May. That said, the Yankees are merely two victories away from being miserable Boston, (and we'll soon give them a chance at revenge in Fenway.) As an excuse, the Yankees point to the deluge of injuries, which transformed the bottom of their lineup into a Scranton-Wilkes Barre homecoming. We have yet to string together a decent winning streak, and it looks like none will happen in April, rainy April.

Tonight, we again turn to CC to staunch the malaise. He pitched well last week, so here's hoping that he can deliver his modern equivalent of a Koufaxian masterpiece: Six innings, maybe two runs. By September, his season will look like the redacted version of the Mueller Report - weeks and months blacked out here and there - as his past injuries check in to say hi. 

We stand 5.5 games behind the Devil Rays, who are 14-5, but suddenly without their best pitcher, Blake Snell. He idiotically fractured his toe the other day after stepping out of the shower and trying to move a granite table, which was bolted down. (Who bolts down a granite table, anyway? Isn't it heavy enough? If I had a pitcher like Snell, I wouldn't allow granite in the house; everything would be made of sponge, and he would wear bubble-wrap.) It crashed down on his foot, winning him the 2019 Henry Cotto Q-Tip Award for Darwinian Sport Survival.

Thank you, granite tables, everywhere. (Go ahead, Chris Sale, kick one!) We won't have to worry about Snell in our upcoming tussle with Tampa. But thanks to last night's blown opportunity, we must win the next three, or we'll suffer a split against lowly KC... at home. We are squandering an incredible opportunity to build a lead in the AL East. Another few games like last night, and the back alley whispering will be about us.