And so the Yankees clinch about the only thing they are likely too this year: their 32nd consecutive, winning season. Still not at the club record of 39 (1926-1964), but not too shabby—and far better than I thought they would do this year.
What's more, it means that, out of the 122 seasons that your New York Yankees have existed thus far, they have compiled 100 winning seasons, 21 losing seasons, and 1 .500 season. And yet we complain, we rage, we rant, we rend our garments, gnash our teeth, and howl at the moon.
Of course we do. How the hell else can we keep winning?
We give everyone their props—for about 30 seconds. Now get back to work, you bums.
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Ron Darling on the Mets broadcast just saying that Nasty Nestor complained about being relegated to the bullpen after today's game. As Darling said, "Poor form, particularly after a 2-0 win."
I would add, "Poor form for any 29-year-old who has already made $7.7 million in baseball, and has a 4.08 ERA." Sheesh.
I'd really like to see RizzO go yard tomorrow.
He deserves it.
You can tell him I said that, too.
Glad he's back on first and looking sharper than before he went down.
I'm still cleaning up the water I power sprayed out of my mouth when I saw that Boone had Clay up in the over mic'd bullpen warming up (and I hadn't had a drink of water for at least an hour).
It's Suzyn's birthday. Judge should sing her happy birthday at her dinner out with Meredith Marakovits tonight in the City of Big Shoulders.
Hoss,
Unfortunately (for us), the current metric for the Yankees front office that is obsessed with metrics, is winning records, not CHAMPIONSHIPS.
Which is a tragedy for all of us.
But we all knew that.
I knew that you would say that . . . "Rufus"
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