Chronicle of a Death Foretold.

 

So before Dave Roberts took off for second base, late in the evening of October 17, 2004, your New York Yankees had gone 12-4 in all their playoff games against the Boston Red Sox, outscoring them by a collective, 90-70. 

 

Take away that 1999 afternoon in Fenway Park when Roger Clemens and Hideki Irabu crapped the bed against Pedro Martinez, and the Yanks had outscored the Carmine Hose by 89-57.  From the 1978 playoff—maybe the greatest single baseball game ever played—through the 2003 ALCS, it was what Yogi said:  “Of course we’re going to beat these guys. We always beat these guys.”

Then the world stopped in its traces and reversed, our karma truck hit a pole, Col. Ruppert’s pact with the devil finally expired, or whatever. Everything changed, in the alternate universe that America has drifted into in this 21^st century.

 

Since then, the Bombers have gone 1-8 against the BoSox in the postseason, and been outscored by 58-29. Expect more of the same, in the mercifully brief wild-card playoff that will be played on Tuesday and Wednesday in the Bronx.

 

This is the only possible AL playoff matchup which the Yankees have no chance to win. Our beloved cupcake stompers would’ve been better off tanking every game we could against the patsies from Chicago and Baltimore, to somehow arrange a test of strength against our usual whipping boys, the Cleveland Guardians of Traffic.

 

No could do—and now we’re in for it. Yet another humiliation against our bitterest foes, in a series that the Yankees’ brains trust considers absolutely no different from a mid-July series against the Marlins. 

As I see it, the one, slim chance the Yanks have is in Game One. If they lose that one, we’re looking at Carlos “The Bird” Rodon (1-2, 5.74, 11 hits, 10 walks, and 3 hit batsmen in 15 2/3 innings against your 2025 Boston Red Sox) trying to save the season against Brayin’ Brayan Bello (2-1, 1.89 against the Yanks this season). 

 

That’s not happening.

 

Game 1 offers, at least, the cruel illusion of hope. Max “I’ve got blisters on my fingers!” Fried ended up 1-1, 1.96 against the Beaneaters this season, and seems to have turned his game around of late. Garrett Crochet, meanwhile, went 3-0 versus our boys this season, but with a 3.29 ERA.

 

But look a little closer. 

 

Crochet’s stats reflect a single bad outing in the Boogie-Down Bronx, when he gave up five earned runs in six innings…on June 7^th(Boston still won that game). His most recent appearance at the Stadium was on August 23^rd, when he allowed just 1 run and 5 hits, in a 12-1, Boston beat down. 

 

Overall, he has struck out 39 Yankees and allowed only 4 walks. Don’t expect any of Earl Weaver’s beloved, three-run homers against him.

 

And despite that sterling ERA, Max Fried has allowed 19 hits and 7 walks in just 18 1/3 innings against Boston. It is true that he did not allow the Sox a run in 6 innings, in his August 22^nd no-decision at the Stadium (which we still lost, 1-0). On the other hand, the 5 1/3-inning win he pulled out in Boston on September 13^th, saw him allow 9 hits and 2 walks, but somehow let up only 2 earned runs.

 

I would look for that sort of game on Tuesday: Crochet dominant, Fried dancing in and out of disaster, until the Sox finally get to him, or we turn the game over to the (shudder) bullpen. 

 

In any case, it won’t be long now before Aroldis Chapman is celebrating on the mound in our house. Blessedly, we can then turn our attention to our terrific local football teams.