One down, 10 to go

It is said that, on the hangover morning of Jan. 2, the secret poobahs of Pasadena gather to plan next year's Rose Bowl Parade. Wait, maybe I'm thinking of the Orange Bowl Parade? It's definitely not the Canyon of Heroes Parade, because in this millennium, nobody expects a New York team to win. 

We will not drop our guard. 

Nope. No way. If you're looking for delirious fan cooing, google Billie Eillish. Yeah, we won last night. One down, ten to go. The 10-4 score is a lie; I could show you 50 moments where one tweak from the juju gods could have turned the game on its elbow. Overall, the Twins looked ragged... maybe too ragged. They might have put their clunker game behind them.  

Some observations...

1. Didi Gregorius and Gary Sanchez, stashed at the butt of the order, looked dazed and confused. Neither got a hit. Together, they struck out five times, and stranded eight. Didi drew a walk in the eighth, a quality at-bat that hopefully will lead to something. Still, it's worth pondering a lineup with Austin Romine catching and Gleyber Torres at SS. That would let Luke Voit or Edwin Encarnacion play 1B, make Giancarlo Stanton a DH, and put Hammerin' Cameron Maybin - who looked electric last night, stealing two bases - in left. I'm not calling for an overhaul, not yet. But Romine is our best kept secret, and Didi is still turning gopher balls into pop-ups. 

2. Aaron Boone nearly micro-managed a defeat. At times, you wondered if he realized it was a nine-inning game. He yanked Ottavino after one batter, and left a gaping vacancy in the eighth, apparently expecting El Chapo to throw a two-inning save. That's dangerous. Had the game not become a blow-out, our mighty bullpen would have been reduced to stems and seeds, (Cessas and Lyons.) Is J.A. Happ our eighth inning man? This is trouble.

3. I've always believed that, on any given day, the biggest, baddest and best player on the field dictates the game. For many years, that was the case with David Ortiz, whose presence was always on our minds. (When a Redsock got a hit in the eighth, we shuddered to think it meant Big Pappy coming to the plate in the ninth.) Last night, the biggest, baddest and best player on the field - by far - was Aaron Judge. He made two great catches - nearly stole a homer - and scared the Twins pitchers shitless. If I were a Minnesota fan, I'd hide behind the couch every time Judge emerges from the dugout. And if we play Houston, he will still be The One. 

4. It was a strange pleasure to hear Bob Costas call last night's game, a reminder of what eloquence sounds like, especially compared to the talking pigeon shows of modern network announcing. But I doubt we'll hear him often. Late in the game, Costas reflected sadly on the endless progression of walks, strikeouts and home runs, which made an agonizing four hours feel like four days. He's right. This winter, I don't know what the game's fathers plan to do - actually, I shudder to imagine it - but baseball faces an existential crisis of tedium. Watching all those HR records stacked upon each other - they're like the escalating climate stats on global warming. At some point, everything melts down. Baseball cannot afford to become more HR-K-BB crazy. 

5. The announcers rightfully stressed the importance of winning game one. But after 2004, no Yank fan will ever sleep on a lead without expecting the worst. If the Twins win tonight, they go home with the advantage. We have nothing to celebrate. You want a good view for the Canyon of Heroes Parade? Go there now. Good seats still available.