Joel Sherman says the Yankees must go 6-0 against Baltimore. Is he jinxing us, or what?

 Joel Sherman says, to chase down Tampa, the Death Barge needs to win all six of its remaining games against Baltimore. 

Well, du-uh? 

Okay, prediction time.

Because we absolutely need to win all six... I predict we go 3-3. 

You?

“It’s spooky. The power is out, so it’s all dark. My phone rings. It’s Suzyn. She says, ‘John is stuck on River Road in Edgewater.’ Now for years I’ve seen how bad it gets flooded on River Road in Edgewater, and with the kind of rain we had (Wednesday) night, I can only imagine. So I said, ‘Suzyn, I’m on the way. I more or less know where John lives. I’ll figure out where he’s at and I’ll see what I can do.’"

We covered this already, but - wow - hats off to alt-Yankee announcer Ricky Ricardo, who two nights ago answered the call. I've loved this guy since the first time I heard his homer-holler for Aaron Judge: 

"A home run for Aaron Judge... who is GUILTY!... of putting the Yankees ahead one to nothing!"

Frankly, with due respect to Gleyber Torres' ongoing rehab, nothing else mattered in the Yankiverse yesterday. Ricardo answered the call. He ploughed through high waters in a blacked out neighborhood and rescued an 83-year-old man, who had no place to go. He could have phoned the police. Fukinay. He answered the call.

Can you imagine what we would be saying and feeling today, if this story didn't have such a happy ending? The entire season would have been defined by one night. 

So, tonight, it's Baltimore. I hope they bring Ricardo onto the YES broadcast, along with John and Suzyn. I hope they tell the story. He answered the call. He answered the call!

We can't go on without mentioning, as commenter Anonymous pointed out at 4:12 PM yesterday, that Suzyn and Ricky saved John's life in the Ida flood

If you haven't seen this, it's the only 7-minute video in history that's worth your time: 

https://twitter.com/WFAN660/status/1433501226469969922

Switching gears, fans of the New York Football Giants are raving about their chances

The team has signed three players - including nearly an entirely new offensive line -from the scrap heap. Plus, look at history!

In 2017, they started at 2-11.

In 2018, they started at 1-7.

In 2019, they started a 2-11.

Last year, they started at 1-7.

THIS COULD BE A 2-11 YEAR!

Cole saves the day (as will be expected in the Wild Card playoff)

Thanks to our ace, Gerrit Cole, the Death Barge's losing streak ended at four last night. 

And thanks to our dear friends, the Baltimore Orioles, this holiday weekend shapes up as a chance to solidify our tenuous hold on the home field advantage for the 2021 Wild Card. 

That one-game playoff - now 29 games off - could pit Cole against Boston's Chris Sale, a certifiable Yankee nightmare in his previous incarnation, before elbow surgery. Excuse me if I don't jump for joy at the prospect of facing Sale in a one-game gauntlet. 

As for last night:

1. I think we saw Boone's October bullpen closing protocol. (For now, anyway.) Jonathan Loaisiga pitched the eighth, and in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make, El Chapo. It was always going to be the Chapster, who will either show command - in which case we have a chance - or our demise will resemble the fall of the Afghani government. Last night, Aroldis threw a 1-2-3 ninth, his first since August 23 against Atlanta. In his last six outings, he has thrown two perfect innings. I don't mean to hang an impossible task on Chapman - no pitcher is always perfect - and nobody will ever accuse him of phoning it in. He's a valiant warrior, throwing his hardest, even when it's clear he has nothing. Still, it's hard to imagine the guy holding up through a wild card, a divisional playoff, a championship series and a world series. Nope. We needed a Zack Britton for that level of fantasy. And Britton is gone.

2. When the post-season awards come around, the Japanese Babe Ruth will obviously take most of the hardware. But Aaron Judge should be one of the MVP front-runners. He has 30 HRs, and his next hit will vault him over .300 in that obviously meaningless statistic: batting average. He is a gold glove RF (who needs to play CF in the stretch, especially with Brett Gardner stumbling; Gardy went 1-4 last night, increasing his BA to .214.) Now and then, I ponder the worst case scenario: Judge tweaks something. He cannot be replaced. Judge has elevated his game, one of the best in baseball, and Shohei Ohtani wasn't the only great one on the field last night.

(I write the above to indemnify myself against the things I will say next time Judge goes 0-4 with three Ks.) 

3. Three game against the O's, then four against Toronto and three vs the Merry Mets. In our last 29 games, we have 13 against tomato cans - (Cleveland, Baltimore, Texas, Minnesota) - and finish with the big three: Jays, Redsocks and Rays (though some of those games might won't matter.) If we can take 9 of 13 against the tomatoes, 2-3 against the Mets, and go 7-6 against the contenders, we'll play the one game Wild Card at home. That's what we need. (And Boston currently has no lights-out closer, plus, it's facing a team Covid epidemic.) 

There is no divisional race. Our one chance is the Wild Card. And Gerrit Cole must pitch it. 

HoraceClarke66: Joey, Joey, King of the Whiffs, Child of a Double-Play

From HoraceClarke66:

Just to riff on El Duque’s excellent lead-off piece this morning, Joey Gallo is looking at something far worse than plunging below the Mendoza Line.

 As of today, our import from Texas is hitting all of .144 as a Yankee. If this keeps up, he will break a mark I frankly never expected to see threatened: Gary Sanchez’s .147 average as a regular last season.

 I mean, this is all-time bad. It’s not that .144 would be the worst in modern times. It would be the worst for a Yankee, ever.

 Potzkying around in stats from the days when your New York Yankees were your New York Highlanders, back in the deadball era when men were men and they were mostly trying to hit a dissolving sphere of mush in the twilight hours…I can’t find any regular who ever hit lower.

 Thus far, Joey’s .144 has come in 30 games and 129 plate appearances. Sancho’s record last year was in 49 games and 178 plate appearances. In other words, the mark is there for the taking.

 Oh, I know, I know. Batting average is such an old-fashioned, misleading statistic.

 Joey G. hits for power, and…and…and draws a lot of walks!

 But as ZachA pointed out, his power has also been well below what it was in Arlington. Gallo’s slugging average has dropped from .490 with the Rangers this year to just .346 as a Yankee—well below the team average of .402.

 His OBP went from .379 to .310 with our boys—below the team average of .326.

 That’s right: as a Yankee, Gallo is badly underperforming the rest of the team even in the things he’s supposed to excel at.

Hey, I like Joey Gallo. He hustles, plays a very good outfield, and doesn’t have a snit fit when the fans are so gauche as to boo him (Though his restraint may be put to the test when our pinstriped heroes return.)

But the idea that Joey could be some sort of equivalent to Curtis Granderson or even Graig Nettles for the game today, hitting for power if not average, drawing walks and playing a fine defense…has, I think, been put to rest.

If this continues, the Yanks would be foolish to give him a big free-agent contract in the offseason—which would mean another four minor leaguers surrendered for nothing.

How Will The Season End?

Not well. I think we can all agree on that. 

However, inspired by the "How many wins will the Yankees have at the end of the year?" contest (and don't you all wish you could lop 10 games off your totals right now? I know I do.) I invite everyone to tell us your best guess on how the season will actually end. 

Will it be an El Chapo meltdown in the 9th inning of the Play-In game?  

Will Joey Gallo throw his back out while stretching in the batters box with the bases loaded and the 2nd Wild Card spot on the line? (And, even though he is signed for next year - never play for the Yankees again.)  

Will Boone inexplicably rest Judge for the Play-In game because it's his time for a day off?  

Maybe we will just lose so many games in the next four weeks that we finish behind Toronto.

Here's mine...  We sweep Tampa on the final weekend of the year and win the division but those insidious Rays send a party bus of Covid infected hookers to the Yankees hotel and the entire team is forced to skip the ALCS. Houston wins by forfeit. 

---

I can't offer a case of booze like some of our compatriots but I can offer a case of head lice.  I will freeze dry them and send them to you in a baggie. All you have to do is add water. Just like Sea Monkeys! 

So...  Whose nightmare will become our reality?  

How will the season end? 

Market correction: Dogecoin Yankees run hell streak to four

Let's be honest: We saw this coming.  

Down the stretch, we knew the Yankees weren't a 13-0 dream team. Maybe 8-5, or even 9-4... not 13 and 0. 

The winning streak was a mirage, a hallucination. In truth, we were Dogecoin, Theranos, the democratic government of Afghanistan... Andrew Cuomo's 80 percent popularity.

We knew a market correction was coming, and it would not be pretty.

So last night, in a loss to a tomato can, the Death Barge hit into five DPs and went a soul-crushing 1-10 with runners on base. Wow. The good news is that our bullpen didn't blow a big lead in the ninth. By losing, we didn't have to pitch a ninth. 

So now, the lingering question: How far will we plummet? Some factors:

1. Jameson Taillon may have hit his wall. He's now thrown 127 innings - four times what he had pitched in the last two years. Last night, he couldn't survive the fifth, yielding six earned runs. Two weeks ago, he looked like our No. 2 playoffs starter. Now, yeesh... do we even have a No. 2?

2. Gio Urshela remains in rehab: Last night, one for four with two Ks and three LOB. His batting average has fallen to .262, and - ridiculously - he's been playing SS, over Wade and Velasquez, the sparkplugs of our recent streak. Surely, the Yankees must ease him back into the lineup. But right now, when he comes to bat, you feel the air leaving the stadium.  

3. Okay, I know batting average is an outdated, old-codger stat, but it still pops up on the Jumbotrons. Today, Joey Gallo stands at .203, which is flat-out, fucking unacceptable. I mean, the Mendoza Line has not been rescinded. Meanwhile, the disappeared Tyler Wade is hitting .284, and - yeah - I get it that they are distinctly different players, and Gallo's game is power - but good grief... somebody has to occasionally hit a single. Don't look at Brett Gardner, who at .213 is so ready for retirement that he should only play the Early Bird Specials. Also, Gary Sanchez is at .213. Listen: A guy should hit his weight. And they are not. 

4. The Yankees are lucky his streak has happened on the West Coast, so their fan base cannot boo them in person. Otherwise, the Mets wouldn't be the only NY team with an unruly relationship with its followers.

5. Tonight, it's Gerrit Cole. If ever there was a question about his value as an ace... here it comes. He needs to end this streak. 

I just want to make sure I have this straight...

So we are back to rooting against them because if they fail to make the one game play in there's a chance that Boone (and, please, please, please, Hal) will not be back next year. 

Works for me. 

A Visit From the Goon Squad

By HoraceClarke66

Dr. Odu and Dr. Ogu beamed down from the flight deck of the Oumuamu together, as was their wont. They materialized simultaneously next to the seemingly abandoned warehouse near the Bronx River, where there was only a homeless wino who had been there since the 2004 Debacle to scare witless.

The two of them proceeded in lockstep to the inner sanctum of the “warehouse,” where of course Juju Enterprises, Inc., was now in full operation, all “working from home” exemptions having long ago been canceled with a sneer and a threat.

 

The chief Juju imp rose tremulously from his control console to greet the visitors, while the rest of his staff hung back amidst the piles of accumulated fast-food wrappers and empty Cel-ray soda bottles, dreading what was to come next.

 

No one liked a visit from the doctors, with their strangely nondescript faces, their matching gray suits and ties, and slim briefcases. It usually meant that heads were going to roll. Literally.

 

“We have returned from headquarters after a full briefing on your activities,” said Dr. Odu.

 

“And after much consultation, we have reached a conclusion,” said Dr. Ogu.

 

“Yesssss?” asked the chief imp, though he feared that his soul might be ripped from his body if he so dared to open his mouth.

 

Dr. Odu smiled. So did Dr. Ogu. It was a bizarre sight, one that caused much of the console glass to shatter, and milk to curdle throughout the greater Tri-state area.

 

“Congratulations!” said Dr. Odu.

 

“Wha-what?”

 

“Congratulations! Headquarters was unanimous. Never have we seen a fan base so brilliantly played as you did with the New York Yankees’ slavish followers this season!”

 

“Congratulations!” added Dr. Ogu.

 

“The Big Guy was almost in tears, it was so beautiful,” Dr. Odu said, removing his glasses for the first time in that last four millennia to wipe away a tear of his own.

 

“First, you have a team predicted to excel, even make the World Series, by the many foolish mortals on this planet,” Dr. Ogu recapitulated.

 

“Then, they stink for the first half of the season, losing one heartbreaking game after another. What a set-up!” added Dr. Odu.

 

“Then, they start to win. Cashman, our evil thrall for all eternity, seems to make some savvy deals at the trade deadline!”

 

“The fans, they-they start to believe! Even the hardened cynics who have endured so many years of Cashman!  They think it’s really possible that this team can win something!”

 

“They start to compare it to 1996, the poor saps!”

 

“They win 13 in a row. Thirteen!  The devil’s number!”

 

“Which should have told them something. But it didn’t,” chuckled Dr. Ogu. “Believe me, though, the Big Guy appreciated the tribute!”

 

“But it’s how you have crushed their hopes that contains the real stroke of genius!” gushed Dr. Odu. “Not through some simple, Black Swan intervention, satisfying as that always is.”

 

“No! Rather than have players get injured, you have them get well!”

 

“Just in time to have the Yankees play their last month like it’s spring training! Brilliant!” 

 

The doctors actually high-fived, which made a sound like a cat being gutted with a rusty spoon.

 

“So I guess that’s that, then, huh?” asked Dr. Ogu. “You’re not going to let them make the playoffs, are you? Or do you have something in mind for the big finale?”

 

“Well, we-we do have something up our sleeves—” stuttered the chief imp.

 

“Wait, wait, don’t spoil it!” cried Dr. Odu. “We’re going to be circling this neck of the galaxy for a couple months still aboard the Oumuamua, and I can’t wait to see how you pull this off live!”

 

“And from the Big Guy himself, all of us at headquarters can only say: ‘You complete us.’ ”

 

The doctors dematerialized. Down in the warehouse, nobody moved or breathed for the next ten seconds. Then the chief imp slumped back in his chair and swallowed half a bottle of Maalox in one long gulp.

 

“Where is it?” he asked threateningly, getting up again and sweeping away the accumulated Kit-Kat wrappers and day-old burritos that covered the relevant part of the console. “Holy hell, where is it?!”

 

“You gotta believe us, chief, we just got distracted working on that Mets program!”

 

“You’ll see, it’s a doozy we got goin’, chief!”

 

The chief imp ignored them, staring down at the controls—set as they had not been for 25 years on “Miracle Win.” With a grin that would make a saint vomit, he clicked the switch off.

 

“I’ll deal with you two moaxes later. Let’s just say we got lucky. Now—how do we bring this baby home?”

In With The Old Out With The New

 I gotta admit, I saw this coming.

And I am not the only one.  Most of you did as well.

The sudden excitement, the "back-to-the-wall" mentality and grit are gone.

For a while....a hugely ( and surprisingly ) successful effort was put together by a bunch of no names.  Our AAA and AAAA guys were shining in the big leagues. 

We saw Gil and Ridings.  Velazquez and Wade.  Allen and Florial.  Even Abreu looked good. And Johnny " no hit" Davis made catches no one else makes. 

We saw speed and daring.  We saw brilliance..

Their energy and productivity affected everyone.  Fans were thrilled.   Sluggers began to hit against the shift.  Rizzo and Judge stole bases. Sanchez hit with runners in scoring position. 

And then, " THEY" started coming back.   

The BIG STARS.  The guys who are paid fortunes and have endless contracts in the eight figure range.  All the Yankees from that miserable start.

The last nail in this hard oak meat wagon will soon be back at short stop. 

Suddenly,, and inevitably,   everyone is wearing heavy boots.  Games are 4  hours and laden with strikeouts.  Balls became just out of reach, and land as double, not outs. 

Boone has started to look dumb again.  Inexplicable decisions abound. 

And we are eating the same old boring shit.

Why is it that only we noticed what winning baseball looked like?

What baseball looked like.

Boone IS "The Cooler" and other thoughts

Boone 

Parson Tom nailed it in the comments of the previous post when he very succinctly and accurately stated, that Boone is "The Cooler.”  This comes back to the analytics vs. what’s going on in front of him debate.

I guess the thing I don't understand about following the analytics slavishly is...

While I have no doubt that it is accurate over the course of a longer period of time for some reason it doesn't seem to take into account that the concept of, "reverting to the mean" includes periods of both high and low achievement. It includes the data from "hot streaks".

Which means that "hot streaks" exist. So keep the guy in while he's hot!

All people have good and bad days. No matter what your profession there are times when you are locked in. I believe the scientific term is, “peak flow.” When a player is in that zone it’s foolish (and infuriating) to not let him ride that out.

As a writer I never dropped out of a piece when I was on a roll because, traditionally I write for an hour and a half and then my attention and the quality of what I’m writing goes down. That may be true over the course of my career but stopping, because it’s 10:30 and I started writing at 9, when I’m cranking would be stupid.

Billy Beane’s A’s underperform in the playoffs.  I guess the Rays have figured out the regular season. Let’s see what happens.

The Squid or The Squint

In a way this relates to the above. Andrew Velazquez, fired up over getting to play for the Yankees, overperformed. This doesn’t mean that he’s not good enough to hold down the position. I think he is. 

So even though analytics would say that Gleyber has the higher ceiling Andrew brings a set of intangibles…

Hey, intangibles! Those qualities that can’t be quantified. Hmmnn… Do intangibles really exist? If only we could quantify them.

All of the above said, you know Gleyber gets his job back. Hopefully with a fire under his ass. It worked for Luke. Maybe having a fire under his ass will make him... Hot. 

As to Gleyber long term... I think he's toast. 

What I find interesting is that in the photo that they always use of him on YES he is squinting and scowling (as opposed to Andrew’s broad “happy to be here” smile.) 

As anyone who has studied the dark arts of using the media to influence knows, there are pictures of Gleyber that are more flattering but they choose to go with the Squint and the Scowl making him less likeable. 

So, he’ll get his job back but if he doesn’t play with greater intensity and focus who is to say. That photo isn’t doing him any favors. Really they should have left him at second but our GM stinks.

I’d write more but I’m at one hour and twenty nine minutes and I wouldn’t want to

As they hit the final stretch, the Yankees' greatest fear might just be Newton's Third Law

Sir Isaac Newton's Third Law of Baseball states:

"For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Thus, a hot streak will provoke an equal and opposite cold streak, unless it happens to an over-the-hill star, who will then either tweak something and miss six months, or struggle through with occasional glimpses of hope, while undermining the team, which really pisses me off."

We have blown three in a row, just as Newton could have predicted. With 31 games left, the chances of the Death Barge catching Tampa are up there with Britney's dad winning "Father of the Year." Even if we somehow rattled off another 13 game orgasm, the Rays would have to crumble, and they show no signs of being such a Met-like organization. 

Thus, the Yankees are now competing for Bud Selig's final revenge on us - the one-game Wild Card playoff, which will determine whether our deadline trade blitz will prove to be a brilliant move... or a blight upon this decade. For 13 wonderous games, the Yankiverse praised Brian Cashman's guts and guile, as he emptied our farm system for four players, whose previous teams were itching to move. 

Now, we confront the ultimate glitch in the 2021 Yankees: Their inability to beat Newton's Third. Thus far, every sign of hope has begotten an equally soul-crushing defeat. I'm recalling the July 11 game in Houston - last game before the all-star break - when the Yankees stood three outs from a three-game sweep, leading by five in the ninth. John and Suzyn were absolutely jubilant. John was doing the math on the AL pennant race. Life was grand! Then the Astros scored six on a walk off HR by, gulp, Jose Altuve. And the message from the juju gods was quite clear: 

Newton's Third Law has not been revoked.

I don't believe the Yankees will lose 13 in a row. All said and done, the Angels are a tomato can. But we will soon learn whether the big streak represented a new level of Yankee competence -or it was just a hot stretch, which means we'll soon start feeling chilly. 

Note: There is also Aaron Boone's management. WTF? Why, why, why... does he leave Corey Kluber for the fourth, when his rehab games in the minors only lasted three innings? Was it because Kluber had not given up a hit? Yeesh. The no-hitter may have killed Kluber this year. He threw too many pitches and hasn't been the same.

We've all seen it. When the first guy gets on, you say, "There goes the perfect game!" When the next guy gets a hit, you say, "There goes the no-hitter!" Then, "There goes the shutout!" Then, "There goes the game!" 

For the '21 Yankees, a few more doinks, and we might be saying, "There goes the season!" And then... dear god... "There goes the decade?" 

Suddenly sparkless, the Yanks blow two and face a reality check.

During that luxurious 13-game victory cruise, something happened across the Yankiverse: 

According to the YES-controlled hive mind, the Yankees once again became the "Death Star," fully operational and living up to expectations. We came to expect the big defensive play and/or key hit. Brian Cashman became the tactical genius, the GM who saw a wild card where his critics - us - feared 4th place in the AL East.

Then, beginning Saturday in Oakland, poof: Back to the tired barge of strikeouts, flubbed flies and double-play grounders. 

No problem, we told ourselves. Can't win 'em all. 

Still, last night, you could sense the limpness, like a flashlight with a dimming bulb. WTF? 

I hate to blame Gio Urshela, a fine hitter, a solid 3B and - by all accounts - a great teammate.  But since returning from a tweaked hammy, he's 1-for-13 - the lone hit a single - and showing rust, including a botched grounder last night. 

In two rehab games for the Double A Somerset Patriots, Urshela went 4-f0r-8 with a double. And that was that. Two games. He flew to Oakland, benching the trio - Tyler Wade, Andrew Velasquez and Rougned Odor - who manned 3B during the streak.  

Sunday, Urshela gave Velasquez - the tabloids' Bronx fairy tale -"a Sunday off," according to the YES announcers, as if he'd complained about overuse. In his role as the Phil Linz of 2021, Velazquez hit .255 - 11 points below Urshela, though his speed and hunger brought a dimension we've not seen all year. With Urshela back, all three players will be marginalized.  

As the Yankees were losing Sunday, Gleyber Torres was launching another rehab assignment in Somerset, homering once in three at bats. He's expected to join the team Friday, pushing Velasquez farther onto the depth chart - an occasional pinch runner, not much else.

I get it that Urshela and Torres should keep their starting roles. It's an axiom of the game: The injured player doesn't lose his job. But one certainty has dogged the Yankees this season: Most players return with an ugly slump. They crush the minors for two or three games, then show up in the Bronx to look overmatched. 

Listen: I'm returning from four days of partying with old friends. And frankly, I think we all got drunk during that 13-game streak. So here's a little reality check:

1. We gained no ground on Tampa. Nothing. The Rays have won 7 in a row. And Wander Franco looks like a looming star, if not an MVP. This is bad. This is really bad.

2. We remain a wild card team, which means a one-game, all-or-nothing post-season. For all the despondency among Redsock fans, they are secretly smirking with the notion that Chris Sale could pitch that game. Be afraid. Be really afraid.

3. We just gave Oakland a huge spiritual victory, letting them believe they can beat us. 

4. We still have no closer. Aroldis Chapman goes from intimidator to basket case. Nobody else looks ready to claim the role.

5. The bullpen may be cracking. Jonathan Loaisiga has now thrown 65 innings - more than twice the workload of any other season in his career. (He threw 31 innings in 2019.) Mean Chad Green has struggled for a month. The rest are erratic. 

Tonight, we hand the ball to Cory Kluber, up from two rehab outings where he didn't really look dominant. Is he ready, or did he just not enjoy the accommodations in Double A? 

We better not let this losing streak grow.

It's a dedicated game thread for those dedicated to the game

From DickAllen: THE WAGER

From DickAllen...

 Many of you may not know this, but Carl and I started a bet many moons ago. He believed Sevy would come back and make at least two starts in September, a prospect I scoffed at.

Then came the wager.

A case of beer on the line.

Then Carl generously (knowing full well that he would lose the bet) opened up the wager to a broader audience (since all of you are considered, at least to some degree, broad-minded) with an added stipulation: whoever can predict the number of Yankees wins would get both cases of beer and then some (apparently Carl owns a brewery or at least knows a way in through the back door at night).

So, here is the open thread on the bet: the Yankees are currently 76-52 which means there are 33 games left to play, not including today's game. Anyone on this blog may guess the number going forward, providing your guess is in the books before the start of tomorrow's game and it must be posted in this thread ONLY.

If there is a tie (which I fully expect) please add a second number to your guess: add in the number of runs you think the Yankees will score over the remaining 34 games. Whoever comes closest to that number, gets the suds.

Carl, am I forgetting anything? Anything you'd like to add to this?

(Runk Blogge Concludes) All things end.

 Thirteen proved unlucky. The end. 

Win today, and we won the series. That's all. 

Win today, and we took the series.

DERUNK BLOGGE CONTINUES: "Professional pitchers have toed a rubber 60 feet 6 inches from home before delivering the ball to the batter for more than a century. But in eight stadiums in the Mid-Atlantic, the long-standing baseball math suddenly changed, part of a Major League Baseball experiment meant to increase balls put in play."

 The Atlantic League changed the mound. So... WTF happened?

Derugk Blogge Continues: Lucky 13 in a row

 Redsock fans avoiding me. Hang their heads. Thirteen. I'll have another, please.

One more day of drinking, then back to reality. Is this hallucination? 

(dRUNK bLOGGE cONTINUES)

 cAP kEY iS mESSED uP. 

pLEASE dRINK rESPONSIBLY.