Why must Yankee losses be so excruciating?

The April Empire lost its eighth game yesterday. Eight. In the NFL, eight losses keeps you out of the playoffs. But in baseball, eight losses are a butterfly's fart. By October, we will have tasted the raunchy underwear of defeat about 70 times. We have at least 60 more to swallow. Altogether now: Gulp. 

So... W.T.F? What's with these waterboard-quality, pineapple-up-the-keister defeats? We lose because a sure-handed SS (Kozma) botches a DP grounder, or Starlin Castro flubs a pop-up, or we can't touch Ivan Fucking Nova! These are dog-life losses, seven in one. And yesterday's was the worst yet, a "10" on the hospital bed pain scale. In the end, Laurence Olivier was drilling holes in my teeth and asking, "Is he safe? Is he safe? Is he safe?" while the ump kept calling Austin Romine out at the plate. A couple more like yesterday, and I'm moving to West Virginia for the free Oxycontin. 

Listen: I think we - the priapismic Yankee fan base -must take a few deep breaths and step back from the mosh pit. We've been so hungry for a real Yankee lineup - a team that isn't merely chasing the final wild card berth - that we've begun to assign September significance to April events. 

We must keep our eyes on Scranton and Trenton - the Clints and Gleybers - and not get swept up with statistical projections of how many HRs Aaron Judge will hit - (no lie, John and Suzyn ran the numbers and came up with 72) - because we have 60 more kitchen sink losses coming, and each one will have us screaming like Dustin Hoffmann in the dentist chair. It's not just a long season. It's a dog season. If Judge finishes with 30 HR - beyond our pre-season expectations - that means he'll drop to four per month. 

But yesterday... damn, that was one flaming turd of a loss. I can handle a 15-0 blowout with maybe Ronald Torreyes pitching the ninth. But please, no more like yesterday. I'll never make it.