Y'know it's like...

You wait all year, survive a pandemic, carve out a small piece of your ex-wife's house to watch a ball game in peace, find an almost new Lazy Boy at a garage sale for $20 (having gotten rid of all your furniture to be unencumbered as you roam the world), settle in with 3/4 lb. of Augie's Montreal Smoked Meat (a Berkeley made pastrami like product - that's pretty damn good by West Coast standards), a box of matzah,  and a Maker's Mark Cask Strength bourbon on the rocks to watch Gerrit Cole...

(As good a pitcher as there is - and reminiscent of Catfish Hunter as in, get to him early or not at all.)

And, by the end of the game, you end up questioning every life decision you ever made.

Learn to play the piano for three hours a day or watch the Yankees? Become fluent in Spanish (Which would have been helpful while doing the world roaming thing.) or spend that time watching Stanton “Flail and fail”?

(Hat tip to Clyde Frazier’s announcing rhythm – I’ve been watching the Knicks instead of working in a lab trying to cure cancer. Their last game against the Timberwolves left me “unsated and deflated”.)

Yesterday’s Yankee game was sweaters and socks on Christmas morning.

They knew what we wanted…

Dear Hal,

All we want this year is for the Yankees to score runs on base hits, sac flies, man on second less than two outs kind of stuff.  

Doug

Instead, they gave us beat up pair of old O-fers.

At least they don’t play today. Maybe I’ll read Infinite Jest, or mow the lawn, or apply to law school... unless the Knicks are on.