Saturday, December 30, 2017

Best Yankee moment of 2017

Greg Bird's homer off Andrew Miller, which eventually beats Cleveland 1-0 and saves our butts in the ALCS, after being down 2-0.  

I was standing in Foley's Pub, a crowded NYC sports bar, surrounded by Yankee fans I'd never met before and will never meet again. I will remember their faces until the day I die.

You guys were minding the Chatroll, into which I thumbed occasional screams from my phone. Next morning, still drunken and hunched over my laptop in the hotel lobby, I wrote...

I have no voice. I sound like Bonnie Tyler, with asthma, after smoking a carton of Luckies. I watched the last four at Foley's Pub in NYC, melded into the bar, yelling incoherent-yet-critical instructions to the Yankees through the elevated flat-screen juju porthole. It worked, dammot; they listened. I can honestly say that, moments before he hit it, I predicted Greg Bird's home run, Suzyn. Unfortunately, my other HR predictions - every Yankee coming to bat - failed to materialize. It doesn't matter. We are alive - ALIVE! - in a two-game season, a two-game universe, a two-game continuum - eighteen innings with a pulse but no voice. Oh, and a first baseman. Yes, we do have a first baseman.  

It was a glorious moment, the emotional apex of the 2017 Yankees. That home run broke the Indians' choke hold and turned around the ALCS, vaulting the Yankees further than anyone expected. Moreover, from that moment on, Bird became our future bedrock first baseman - all others inconsequential. 

Honorable mention:

The big comeback against Baltimore in late April, when we were down 9-1. Matt Holliday hit the walkoff three-run homer... Gardy's homer to beat the Cubs... Didi's homers in the Wild Card game, after Severino was punched out in the first. Great moments, all.

Worst moment: The end, of course, and the cruel injury to rookie Dustin Fowler, in his first major league game. May he sue the White Sox so heavily that they have to name the stadium after him. 


JM said...

Poor Dustin Fowler. Girardi wept.

I didn't like Girardi at all, but that was a very real moment.

Aaron Fucking Boone. Jesus.

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