Last Saturday, as the Death Star plummeted toward the ice planet Hoth - metaphorically, of course - the Yankiverse echoed with the primal wails of one diamond-hard truthlet:
The Redsocks were a superior team, and to summon any dim hopes whatsoever, the Yankees needed to pull off a deadline deal of staggering consequences.
It looked bleak, a calamity fast approaching.
And yet...
Today, a mere 168 hours later, Boston finds itself in a free-fall death-spiral, with the Yankees having a chance to drive a stake into their rival's kidney, if not a ventricle.
Comrades... gaze into these standings, and enjoy a well-earned Calgon Bath Oil Beads-level surge of comfort.
Ah, you might say, "so go the vagaries of the game!" As The Master says, "You cannot predict baseball, Suzyn." And what, you might ask, could have happened in one simple week to so redirect the cosmic flows of hope?
Some possibilities:
1. The informative and well executed Democratic debates energized the Yankees, as these great leaders outlined solutions to the nation's woes.
2. The President's helpful observations on Baltimore, race and rodents created a hopeful environment for the nation - and the Yankees - to thrive.
3. The Emergency International Juju Intervention - called last Sunday as the Yankees faced a possible sweep- actually worked.
One week, folks. Seven days ago, all was lost. Then the juju gods were called out for their treachery.
To all who berated their televisions, who punched their Pedroia Pillow, or who stood in the kitchen doorway for nine long innings, refusing to move because the Yankees were winning... I doff my cap. You are heroes.
But but but... we must not relent in our juju work.
Because a week from now can be a long, long journey.
Saturday, August 3, 2019
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Sweep. Today and tomorrow. Bury them. Knock them out of the Wild Card race. Make their fans cry ketchup tears. Make the glass fall from the John Hancock tower. Make the privileged halls of Hahvahd crack and quake, not necessarily in that order.
May Chthulu destroy every Legal Sea Food on the planet, and drive New England to despair.
Death to Smoochy! No mercy.
One of my favorite pop songs starts out as follows:
I met a gin-soaked barroom queen in Memphis.
She tried to take me upstairs for a ride.
The brilliance of these simple words is the way they completely set the hook. From the moment I hear them, I am ALL IN. My mind says, "Really? She tried to take you upstairs? Dude, what happened? Did she succeed? Oh and, yuck, she was gin soaked? Tell me more."
Here's what I just read today:
Last Saturday, as the Death Star plummeted toward the ice planet Hoth - metaphorically,
of course - the Yankiverse echoed with the primal wails of one diamond-hard truthlet...
It's the same idea. My mind says, "Really? What is this 'diamond-hard truthlet' of which you speak? Tell me more..."
JM's comment above just continues the fun.
I love this blog.
If it's any help, I'm still passing this damm kidney stone.
Fuck you Hal.
I was taken away as soon as I read Calgon bath oil beads.
The starting lineup for Game 1 has Valera at 2B.
What the fuck is that? Does Boone make these choices because he bets on Boston to win?
Fucking fucked up fucking jerk motherfucker.
Let's stay in the day, men and women. Let's just be in the moment. Stay alert, stay present, be prepared to do whatever it takes for us to win.
And, before I move on to loftier things, in the spirit of LBJ's post, let me say this:
I laid a divorcee in New York City.
I had to put up some kind of a fight.
The lady then she covered me with roses.
She blew my nose and then she blew my mind.
I love you all.
Blew my mind ...
And I am still standing in the fucking doorway to the kitchen.
#1 MADE ME LAUGH (THE MOST)...
#2 MADE ME LAUGH...
#3 MADE ME LAUGH...
MR. DUQUE IS SPINNING GOLD DAILY...
LETS PUT BOSTON TO SLEEP THIS SERIES...
(SOMEHOW I FEEL IT WON'T HAPPEN)....
GO PIRATES.
There were only 13 games yesterday? On a Friday?
None of the announcers could believe so many teams had yesterday off. Nobody could remember that happening before. Not even Sterling, and he's been around a while.
Costas with the YES crew today, both games. Might be pretty good.
I guess we're the home team so we get the bad strike calls in our favor today. The crybabies will not like that.
The General!
Fuck you, Chrissie Sale!
Fuck you AND your little dog too, Chrissie Sale!
Yes, The General bares his steel (ta-rae, ta-rah)!
Brilliant, Duque!
Judge is really sucking.
German is not sucking at all.
Big bat up next
Breyvin! I take back what I said, man.
The crybabies in full flower.
Sale is a head case. Keep fucking with him guys!
Gardy!!!
Five singles. Wow.
General!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Fuck you AND your little dog too, Chrissie Sale!
Go with the General and save some time!
Another terrible strike call, allows Judge to double.
Hold on to your balls, men...we're going in...put up the force fields...
Eddie is growing on me. Takes a lot of pitches and shortens his swing with two strikes. The parrot thing is stupid, but doesn't seem to style it otherwise.
John forgot the score at the end of the inning. Turning over the scorecard must have dazed him.
Wow...hard to believe that the Red Sox are the same team we played last weekend and got beat up against. The Master is right...you can't predict baseball.
Who is Breyvic Valera? Have I been in a cave? I don't remember him in any way.
Supposedly he's burning up AAA. Or is that Kyle? Maybe both.
Holy shit, Holder is warming up. We're only ahead by 7!
13bit, Valera was the longtime Taoiseach and President of the Irish Republic. Also...Taoiseach of my heart!
It is NOT Surrenderer time. Needs to be at least 14 for that.
Betts, Devers, and Bogaerts out of the game.
All right, we're getting CLOSER to Surrenderer time.
HOSS, thanks for that clarification. I hope he can contribute to a lasting peace.
That was some serious front line starter pitching from D&G, but what the fuck is Holder doing out there!?
Mop up.
" lasting peace"? In Ireland? As much chance at peace in the middle east.
Hamate fracture can be career ending. Hopefully not that.
John and Suzyn are concerned that he's still in the game and not icing it.
Three outs for Holder.
Should be a nice 9-5 victory.
"Icing" a fracture will not make it magically heal. Amazing I know, but its true. Gene Moynihan and all those sprays of ethyl chloride didn't really do anything.
Wow...hard to believe that the Red Sox are the same team we played last weekend and got beat up against.
Yes, it's much more difficult for them to play away games; it's much harder to steal signs.
Wrong, Warbler! They numbed the pain long enough for The Mick and others to win the game, before hobbling off with what were then aggravated, career-threatening injuries.
So there.
Would not like to lose EE, but I'm more worried over what's wrong with Judge.
Holder held. Whew.
Three hours to do some cleaning around our place...
What a blessed relief to have a first-rate play-by-play announcer on a Yankee telecast.
Forget Ireland or the Middle East. I was talking about lasting peace on River Avenue. then again, it's best not to take anything I say too seriously.
I'm enjoying Costas.
Must be killing Kay not being able to speak.
Where was Kay?
It's official. EE to the IL with a fractured wrist. Where art thou Le Grande Rouge? Where art thou?
He's in Scranton. Mike Ford is coming up.
Stand tall and hang tough, Alphonso. If possible, admire the chiseled-out and painted-over former hinge service areas. Or do something else; like I know wtf is up?!
Hang in there sir! The doorway needs you. Not because of any workable plan, nor because such obvious foolishness is necessary. Just because it's right.
Kay was in the ballpark in the early afternoon...Costas and Paulie were alluding to it. Then they mentioned something to the effect that Kay was heading to the Hamptons afterwards.
Costas also said something about lipreading Kay.
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