Blasphemy!

Since my special, cutting edge "dirt" rehab worked better than Aaron Judge's, I was somehow able to get back out and run—albeit in my trademark, "crippled wildebeest" style—and so was able to delight in The Master and Suzynita again this afternoon.

This time, the pair—weirdly relegated to Yankee Stadium as the game played out at Shea—went full blasphemy.  With The Master leading, both proclaimed that the Yankees, at least with all those great sluggers out, should "try to win games in other ways, such as advancing the runner, and hit-and-running, and settling for what the pitchers give them."

This was no doubt the craziest act of defiance of established, unimpeachable, divine authority since Martin Luther nailed a few of his thoughts to the door of a Wittenberg church.  The blasphemy of John and Suzyn had the advantage of being considerably shorter—and also, not in Latin—but they were no less earth-shattering.

No sooner had they spaketh such things, than the Yankees, seemingly attendant to their every utterance, ran off a four-run rally in much the manner they had proclaimed.  Well, actually there was no running or advancing runners involved, let's not be ridiculous, but they DID seem to hit balls where they could, all over Shea, instead of just swinging from the heels.

Happily, I turned in to the old corral soon after—don't want to test that rehab!—so I got to miss what may be the real, signature loss of the season.  Talk about driving a nail through something!

In fairness, the Yanks really did manage to produce some offense today (though eight Mets walks helped mightily), but still couldn't beat a team that looks increasingly like it's just running out the string this year and, oh yeah, has the worst bullpen in Christendom—Protestant, Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, or Coptic.

Well, what can we say?  When bad teams start going bad, they find ways to lose.  Nobody wins without pitching, and the Yanks showed just how little they have today.

In just 3 years' time, this bunch has gone from rising dynasty of the future to a broken shell of its former self, with no idea of how to even begin putting itself back together.

But...all of that will be quickly excused, and swept under the rug.  We will hear all about how everyone was thrown off by the pandemic, and the empty seats, and worrying about their families, and all the stopping and starting this season.

(Already, at the start of the broadcast, Suzy Q. and Big John offered the thought that maybe, just maybe, Happ could give us two straight good starts because he was "working on regular rest again.  So much for that thesis.)

Completely forgotten and conveniently shot down the memory hole for Brain Cashman by the local media will be how this team wasn't ready to go at the end of spring training as it was, and how all the injuries and all the backsliding in talent and performance just continued a trend of three seasons, one broken only by the constant application of fresh patches from the junk pile.

To suggest that any such general trend is evident will be considered the true blasphemy, even as we all settle back into our seats in 2021 and watch the full campaign version of this sad, tatterdemalion of a season.