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Tag: New York Yankees

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Oct 14, 2012

ALCS Game 1 Thoughts: The Emotional Swings of the Postseason

Game 1 of the ALCS was full of emotional swings that ended with the loss of Derek Jeter and a loss to the Tigers.

“There’s no other game in which fortunes can change so much from hand to hand. A brilliant player can get a strong hand cracked, go on tilt and lose his mind with every single chip in front of him. This is why the World Series of Poker is decided over a No-Limit Hold ‘Em table. Some people, pros even, won’t play No-Limit. They can’t handle the swings.” – Mike McDermott, Rounders

Welcome to Game 1 of the 2012 ALCS.

Sometimes the highs and lows of a postseason game are too much to handle. Every Yankees baserunner feels like an accomplishment and every opposing baserunner feels like an inevitable pitch. When you factor in the Yankees’ offensive struggles, these two feelings are taken to another level.

I sat in the right field bleachers with Keefe To The City contributor Dave Heck and watched the Yankees load the bases and fail to score. Then load the bases again and fail to score again. And then fail to score again and again and again. For eight innings the Yankees couldn’t score against Doug Fister or Phil Coke or Joaquin Benoit. I’m not sure they would have been able to score against Daisuke Matsuzaka or the former Zales Fan Marquee guy.

In the ninth inning I was wishing I spent my Saturday night going out in the city and getting drunk at a bar and ordering Domino’s at 3:15 a.m. I would have even settled for wasting a Saturday night and just being in my bed sleeping. I had been at the Stadium for three hours and 31 minutes and 12 innings on Wednesday and four hours and 31 minutes and 13 innings on Thursday night. I was exhausted and went to Game 1 with a sleep-deprived, alcohol-driven headache hoping that the Yankees would take a 1-0 series lead and instead I had watched them endure another offensive postseason slump.

Russell Martin singled to center to lead off the ninth off Jose Valverde and moved to second on defensive indifference. Derek Jeter struck out for the first out and then Ichiro hit his first career postseason home run an 0-1 count to make it 4-2.

“Get it to Ibanez,” I told Dave.

Robinson Cano continued his hot October by striking out for the second out on seven pitches. Mark Teixeira fought for seven pitches, bringing the count full and before the eighth pitch of the at-bat, I turned to Dave again.

“A walk and then Ibanez,” I said.

“He can’t do it again,” Dave replied.

The eighth pitch was ball four and I did the Derek Jeter fist pump mixed with a little Joba Chamberlain 360-fist pump for good measure as Raul Ibanez walked to the plate.

With an 0-1 count, Jose Valverde threw his 28th pitch of the inning to Ibanez and he rocked it. Everyone in Section 203 was already standing, but now people were jockeying for position by standing on the actual bleachers to watch it arrive. Everyone in the Stadium knew by the swing and the sound of the bat that the ball was headed for the seats, but those in right field knew because when you’re in the path of a home run, the ball just gets bigger and bigger and bigger and bigger like you’re waiting for the ball to drop on New Year’s before the mayhem ensues.

For the third time following a Raul Ibanez at-bat in four nights I looked like Theo Fleury following his goal againt the Oilers in the 1990-91 playoffs. I was yelling and screaming in a shower of beer and high-fiving and hugging strangers. The Yankees had a postseason hero for the first time since A-Rod in 2009 and it was the unlikely source of the 40-year-old Ibanez on a one-year, $1.1 million deal making less than Boone Logan, Andruw Jones, Freddy Garcia and Pedro Feliciano. And for the second time in four nights, Raul Ibanez had kept the Yankees alive with a ninth-inning home run turning to depression into jubilation.

Up until that 0-1 pitch, the Stadium was quiet (though it would get a lot quieter). The moat seats were empty and the upper deck looked like a scene from the Stadium in the 80s. The Bronx reeked of devastation, but in one swing the ultimate high replaced the ultimate low. But then Derek Jeter broke his ankle and the ultimate low found a new low.

I have never heard Yankee Stadium that quiet. I have never heard any stadium or arena that quiet. I have never heard a library that quiet. When Jeter was carried off the field I quickly entered Phase 1 of the Yankees elimination process that I endure any October that doesn’t end with them winning their last game. The Tigers took a two-run lead and didn’t give it back. Another four hours and 54 minutes at the Stadium.

This train carries Hiroki Kuroda in Game 2.

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Oct 13, 2012

ALDS Game 5 Thoughts: CC Sabathia Is an Ace

The Yankees won Game 5 of the ALDS thanks to CC Sabathia as the left-hander improved to 7-1 in the postseason as a Yankee.

I felt like I was waiting for results from a pregnancy test on the morning and afternoon leading up to Game 5 with each passing minute causing me more concern, heartache and forcing my blood pressure to dangerously high levels. The Yankees had spent the entire month of September fighting avoid this very scenario: a one-game playoff.

I went back to my roots (and the pre-2009 world) for Game 5 of the ALDS and stayed off Twitter. Well, I tried to stay off Twitter, but the power of Nick Swisher’s incompetence forced me to tweet the following: “Nick Swisher is the worst player in Major League Baseball.”

I stole a line from Mike O’Hara (Daniel Stern) in Celtic Pride on Friday afternoon and said, “The Yankees won’t lose because I won’t let them lose.” I didn’t even need to kidnap Lewis Scott, or in this case, Nate McLouth to make sure the Yankees won. All I needed was to know that CC Sabathia was on the mound.

There isn’t much to say about the Yankees’ Game 5 win because it was all about CC Sabathia and had very little to do with any of the other Yankees. It was more of the same from the offense that runs and hides when the going gets tough in October and the No. 4 and No. 5 starters from last-place teams are nowhere to be found. The Yankees survived the ALDS because of their pitching and because of the man they extended for two more years in the offseason.

Here’s what I wrote about CC Sabathia after Game 1.

If anyone ever says CC Sabathia isn’t an ace, they’re wrong. CC was a beast on Sunday night and had his best postseason start since 2009 after rocky Octobers in 2010 and 2011. He’s now 6-1 in 11 postseason starts for the Yankees, and oh yeah, he’s 74-29 with a 3.22 ERA in four years in the regular season. That’s 74 and 29. He’s averaging an 18-7 record with a 3.22 ERA in 32 starts over four seasons with the Yankees. If he isn’t an “ace” then who is?

Change “Sunday night” to “Friday afternoon” and change “6-1 in 11 postseason starts” to “7-1 in 12 postseason starts” and there you have it. Sabathia won Game 5 for the Yankees and for an offense that might have trouble with Luke Hochevar or Bruce Chen. Games 1 and 5 are why Sabathia made $23 million this year and will next year and the year after that and that year after that and $25 million the year after with and a vesting option the year after that. He put the team on his back when the offense certainly wasn’t going to and he went out and won a do-or-die elimination game.

Three down, eight to go. This train carries Andy Pettitte in Game 1.

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Oct 12, 2012

ALDS Game 4 Thoughts: Everyone Left on Base

The Yankees lost Game 4 and are now faced with the scenario they fought so hard to avoid: a one-game playoff.

I remember this feeling. I felt it on Oct. 6, 2011. It was Game 5 of the 2011 ALDS. This feeling sucks.

The feeling is when “elimination” becomes a real possibility. It’s a word that no baseball fan wants to hear. It’s the strongest word in the sports vocabulary because it’s so final.

You don’t face elimination unless you screw up along the way, and the 2012 Yankees have done just that. Their regular season problem found its way to the postseason and the team’s inability to hit with runners in scoring position will be their downfall if the season doesn’t extend past Friday night.

One run in 13 innings. That’s how I will remember Game 4. I won’t remember it for Phil Hughes stepping up, Derek Jeter coming through on one good leg, Nick Swisher and Ichiro playing horrible defense in the eighth inning or A-Rod getting pinch-hit for once again. One run in 13 innings. That’s what I will remember about Game 4. The theme from April 6 through October 3 didn’t go away during the three off days before Game 1 of the ALDS. And now it has the Yankees in the scenario they fought down the stretch to avoid: a one-game playoff.

The Yankees haven’t made it out of the ALDS against a team not named the Minnesota Twins since 2001 when they came back from down 0-2 against the A’s. The Angels knocked them out in 2002 and again in 2005. The Tigers took them down in 2006, the Indians got them in 2007 and the Tigers did it again last October. Now the Yankees are one more bad game of leaving men on base from having their season end.

The Yankees will play their 167th game of the 2012 season on Friday night. The heart of the order will determine if they get to play for the 168th time on Saturday.

***

Here are my thoughts from Game 4 of the ALDS.

– Four runs in the last 25 innings and two of those runs are Raul Ibanez’s solo home runs. That’s disgusting and embarrassing on so many levels. I would take the San Francisco Giants offense in Game 5. At least they have guys who will deliver a big hit.

– Phil Hughes stepped up in Game 4 (6.2 IP, 4 H, 1 R, 1 ER, 3 BB, 8 K) and delivered as good of a performance as he did in Game 3 against the Twins at the Stadium in Game 3 of the 2010 ALDS (7 IP, 4 H, 0 R, 0 ER, 1 BB, 6 K). He deserved to win on Thursday night the same way that Andy Pettitte deserved to win on Monday night. I didn’t trust Hughes entering Game 4, but I will trust him if there’s an ALCS for him to get the ball in next week.

– I really hope Nick Swisher’s roll in the 13th inning like he was 007 dodging gunfire makes hisYankeeography. It was the latest in what I call Nick Swisher Unnecessary Antics. My favorite has always been him climbing the wall on home runs that he is unable to catch or come remotely close to making a play on. You’re the worst, Nick Swisher. The worst.

– I always laugh when people say, “The moment always finds A-Rod.” The moment always found David Ortiz when the Red Sox used to make the postseason and Ortiz loved the moment and owned it.

– Hey, Yankee Stadium music guy, don’t play Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” while I’m walking out of the Stadium following a 13-inning loss in which the Yankees score one run, forcing them into an elimination game. Maybe that’s the time for you to play Howie Day’s “Collide” rather than in Game 3 when the Yankees were losing before Raul Ibanez’s game-tying home run.

– Remember when Robinson Cano was tearing up the Twins’, Blue Jays’ and Red Sox’ pitching in the last week of the season and everyone was calling him the best and hottest hitter on the planet. Good call, everyone! Cano will be as responsible for a first-round exit as anyone if he doesn’t show up in Game 5 and the Yankees don’t advance to the ALCS. He is now 2-for-18 in the series and is supposed to be the most important hitter in the lineup, even if Joe Girardi still doesn’t think he is.

– The Stadium has a montage for every moment. The problem is that most of them involve plays from previous years. There isn’t a “Left On Base” montage to the Rocky theme to be played when the team is trying to rally late, but there should be. Instead there are hundreds of clips from the last few years of big hits, plays and pitches from the Yankees. I think my friend Andrew said it best last night at the game when talking about great moments being shown: “I’m starting to think these aren’t real.”

– There was a time when there was a pitching change or a mound visit during the beginning of a Yankees rally meant “Black Betty” would fill the Bronx night and the Yankees would come through in the clutch. That time is long gone.

– Tommy Hunter helps win a Game 4 at the Stadium again. TOM-MY HUN-TER! Is this real life? Yes, it is.

– Curtis Granderson (1-for-9, nine strikeouts) is making Alfonso Soriano’s 2003 postseason look like A-Rod’s 2009 postseason. I find it hard to believe that the Yankees are going to look to lock up Granderson along with Cano. Yes, he has 84 home runs in the last two years, but I don’t see the Orioles rushing to sign Mark Reynolds to a long-term, massive deal. And yes, Granderson has become the left-handed Reynolds.

– Joe Girardi made the best decision of his managerial career in hitting Raul Ibanez for A-Rod in Game 3. But if Girardi is going to hit for A-Rod then when does he start hitting for Swisher and Granderson too? It’s not too late to do so, but the time is running out.

I’m not ready for the baseball season to end. This train carries CC Sabathia in Game 5.

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Oct 11, 2012

ALDS Game 3 Thoughts: Saving the Season

Joe Girardi made the biggest decision of his managerial career and saved the Yankees’ season.

As I did after Game 1 and Game 2 and I will continue to do after every Yankees postseason game, here are my thoughts from Game 3 of the ALDS. Well, just one thought because really it’s all that matters from Wednesday night.

***

I didn’t see where Raul Ibanez’s game-tying home run in the bottom of the ninth landed. I didn’t see where Raul Ibanez’s walk-off home run in the bottom of the 12th landed. I didn’t see them because I was getting pulled and hugged and crushed and trampled in a shower of Bud Light, Miller Lite, French fries, Skoal, sweat and tears. It didn’t matter where they went because I knew they were gone.

The feeling before Raul Ibanez pinch-hit for Alex Rodriguez in the ninth inning was not a good one. For 8 1/3 innings I watched the Yankees struggle to hit another average starting pitcher in the playoffs. The home runs dried up again in October for the Yankees with just one in 25 1/3 innings (Russell Martin’s Game 1 home run) and I started to think that maybe all the small ball fanatics and home run critics in the regular season shouldn’t have been laughed at for saying the Yankees’ only offense was the home run. I had visions of Paul Byrd and Tommy Hunter coming to the Stadium and winning an October game. I had flashbacks to the Stadium last October when everyone was left on base in Game 5. I sat there thinking about how we got to this point so early into the postseason and wondering if Phil Hughes, of all people, was really going to be relied to extend the season.

And then Joe Girardi pinch-hit for Alex Rodriguez.

The relationship between A-Rod and Yankee fans is a weird one. From the time he walks from the on-deck circle to the batter’s box with “Ni**as In Paris” playing, A-Rod is loved. The Stadium is full of applause and cheers in an attempt to will a home run or an extra-base hit or even just a single or a walk out of him. The fans want A-Rod to succeed. They want to have a reason to feel optimistic about him even if the 2009 playoffs should have bought him a lifetime of immunity. After that walk to the batter’s box, A-Rod has until the end of his plate appearance for the cheers to continue. If his at-bat ends well then he’s loved until his next at-bat. If it ends poorly he’s hated until his next at-bat. The perception of A-Rod as a Yankee is about life between at-bats and about him buying time between boos. In a game where failure is expected, he faces unrealistic expectations.

If I’m not the CEO of the Anti-Joe Girardi Fan Club then I’m at least on the Board of Directors or the VP of one of the departments. I’m against bunting and hitting Robinson Cano fourth and letting Boone Logan face righties and letting Eduardo Nunez play shortstop, so it only makes sense that I don’t understand most of Girardi’s managerial decisions. But you have to give credit where credit is due and to take a page out of A-Rod’s book, “All I can do is tip my cap to Joe Girardi for his Game 3 managing.”

Girardi was willing to give himself up to the New York media and sports radio and the Internet to go with a gut instinct in the ninth inning. He was willing to have the Steinbrenners and Randy Levine and Brian Cashman wondering why their non-injured $275-million cleanup hitter was pinch-hit for in the ninth inning. Girardi showed that maybe, just maybe his binder doesn’t control his life and that he finally understands that “Alex Rodriguez” is just a name at this point and that name doesn’t get you what it did three years ago. Girardi showed he had balls when he hit A-Rod third again in Game 3 when the whole world thought he wouldn’t and he showed just how big those balls are when he took him out of the game in the ninth inning.

In Game 3 with the season on the line, Joe Girardi went against everything believes in and has been as Yankees manager by doing something he had never done before. He pinch-hit for the game’s highest-paid player and asked A-Rod to be someone he has never been before. Then he asked Raul Ibanez to extend the game. Thankfully, he did one better and saved the season.

Two down, nine to go. This train carries Phil Hughes in Game 4.

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Oct 10, 2012

The Evolution of Yankee Fans’ Expectations

Sheriff Tom remembers a time when clinching a playoff berth was a big deal in the Bronx. Now the postseason is a given for the Yankees, but he doesn’t mind.

Well, the Yankees are in the playoffs again. Welcome to every year. I was lucky enough to roll through the 90s from my bleacher bench in the much-missed Section 39, where I saw most of the playoff glories from that point unfold in front of me. As I watch these current affairs from my couch with my family and not my bleacher family, it’s easy to justify not being out at the Stadium with the old, “Let someone else have a chance to see this.” The Yankees and the playoffs have become attached at the hip and I was lucky enough to ride along for most of it, but when I started my first forays into Yankee Stadium, you would never have been able to convince me it would be so. Well, unless it was happy hour and you were buying.

In my wee days I was a drib and drabber – a Yankee game here, a Yankee game there. I have vague memories of attending an Easter Sunday doubleheader with my mom, as inexplicable as that seems to sound. I remember being outside the Stadium one time in 1983 and hearing Bert Campaneris’ name as he came up to lead off for the Yankees and proudly telling anyone who would listen that he threw a bat at Lerrin Legrow during a World Series game “back in the old days.” I was at Deion Sanders’ first game in Yankee Stadium and whooped accordingly. I was at the game where hurler Rick Rhoden was the Yankees DH! I was at the game after the infamous Yankees-White Sox trade that bought the Yankees the joys of Joel Skinner, Ron Kittle and Wayne Tolleson. I was in the stands the night George Steinbrenner’s banishment from baseball was announced and the crowd burst out in spontaneous and hearty applause. That story sure had a different ending than the one in the seats that night would have written.

Well, one constant with me in attendance for those early affairs on my ledger seemed to be the Yankees losing. The first year I got my driver’s license and could get myself to and from the Stadium in my fancy-dan, lime-green Camaro was 1986 – the year I left high school with much aplomb and a “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out!” – I decided making games was my mission. While I was not keeping regular score then (and my old scorecards from this era disappeared from the basement like a heap of my old pro wrestling magazines and all my porno magazines), but I would often wax poetic at the Yankees’ ineptitude with me on hand. I went to 18 games in 1986 and saw three wins. Take that in. Three wins in 18 games for a sterling 3-15 mark. The Yankees were 41-39 at home that year, which meant when I stayed my silly self home they happened to go 38-14. This is astounding and grounds to banish me from the grounds. But when you take time to consider what was to come for this boisterous fan, especially being in house for the epic runs to come, I get a pass.

After this run of mine in 1986 I slowed it down somewhat, as everything from car troubles to girls to the Yankees always losing when I went to games to college to girls to beer to girl troubles got in the way, and I was a “here and there guy” for a few years. I remember going to a heap of the Mayor’s Trophy affairs with friends against the crosstown Mutts, usually in late March, bundled in coats and gloves in the stands while whooping it up in the frosty exhibition air. On one of these occasions my brother Dave meandered down by the dugout and asked then-mayor David Dinkins to toss him a ball, as the Mayor was set to toss out the first pitch. Mayor Dinkins told him with a wink, “I’ll be right back” and went out and did his thing to a cascade of boos. My brother called for the ball again as the Mayor headed back, be the mayor simply waved, causing my brother to holler, “Hey Mayor! You suck!”

My vaunted run in the bleachers started in 1993. I’ve gone into more detail elsewhere and I will get back to it again at another time, but mainly I was new to the city and looking for a place to hang out by myself where I would not stick out like an open fly. This leads me to address something here: the Orioles fans are taking a lot of crap for creeping out of the woodwork like roly polies under an overturned piece of rotting tree bark in the yard, but hey, we did this too. Well, not me. I was there in 1993, so leave me out of this. But man, did we have the place to ourselves just a couple of years before another world title for the mighty Yankees was plastered in the book. One interesting thing that came out of my Scorecard Memories, as I painstakingly worked through the minutia, was the putrid attendances I was dealing with. I was, to my astonishment, seeing numbers like 18,320, 20,259 and if the Yankees had a cool giveaway like a WABC transistor radio, 29,023. I surely remembered the bleachers having space not only for our beers and bags, but to lay down if we had too many or we simply wanted to strike a pose. I have a famous picture tucked away somewhere of a bunch of us posing on the last day of the season in 1993, on the bleacher benches, with about 25 empty rows behind us. Someone who saw the shot once asked, “What, did you guys sneak in after the game to take this picture in the empty Stadium?” and I responded, “Eh, no … that was actually during the game.”

So yeah, we had the run of the place. And this continued well up into ‘95 when the Yankees made a jaunty dance into the playoffs, and then it was on! There went the empty seat for my bag next to me, and the Yankee fans showed up kind of like the Oriole fans are this week. It happens.

Here’s how far things came along, for the team back then and the fans following. There is a legendary figure from early bleacher days, the infamous Captain Bob. With his burly nature, booming voice and epic beard he was one of the early foundations. His resemblance to Thurman Munson immediately made him a lovable figure. If you look like Thurman Munson you can steal an old lady’s handbag and that crew of Creatures back then would cover for you. Well, Captain was the focal point of another legendary photo I have tucked away somewhere – what passed for Yankee glee and grandeur in the barren years. There was Captain outside the bleacher gate, holding up the back page of a local newspaper, showing Jim Abbott in action with the bold heading “HEY ABBOTT, WE’RE IN FIRST!” So yeah, the newspaper was trumpeting the fact that Yankees had a share of first place. I believe now (without researching because who has the time?) that the Yankees had simply moved into a tie with Toronto on this occasion. I also believe they were out of first by the time the next edition hit the stands. It was probably July or so, but it may have even been May. Jim Abbott was on the team, so you know not much came out of it. But that is not the crux of the matter.

The crux of the matter is that Captain Bob took this newspaper, held it aloft and shouted with glee. A grand “Whoo-hooo!!!” or something to that effect. This was clicked for posterity on whatever camera I had at the time and had not lost yet. I have since seen pictures of the Bleacher Creature crew after the Yankees won the World Series time and again a couple of years later. Hell, I’ve seen pictures of people after we won World War II and they are not as overjoyed as this jolly Yankee fan over the Yankees simply being tied for first place early in the season. So yeah, times have changed. And with them, so did the crowds and the expectations toward the team.

I’m not sure which bar I was in when the Yankees clinched that first wild card on the last day of the season in 1995 since they all blend together at times like that. That initial euphoria was so new and fresh, and we thought so elusive. Who knew in 1995 that the Yankees were just starting a run for the ages? And this one started with a wild-card berth, something that some fans still look upon with derision. Hey, in the interest of full disclosure I was one of those purists that pooped on the whole parade of the idea, even though I was among the first to feed on that fruit as a fan of a team who used it to their advantage. I railed long and hard against the thing and still hold a grudge, but it is what it is.

In coming years I was out there in the bleacher seats when the Yankees clinched playoff berths and the joy and euphoria is something that every baseball fan (well, except for Red Sox and Mets fans) should experience firsthand at least once in their lives. The fact that we Yankee fans have enjoyed such euphoria dozens of times is a blessing and a boon. I remember one year after the Yankees took care of their business and slotted themselves in for hot playoff action I marched out the bleacher gate right after the clincher, parked myself by the entrance down to the subway by the old cigar shop that used to be there and started slapping the high-fives. I saw this news item earlier this year about some doof who was out to break the record for “most high-fives” given in a certain timespan. He was in some park or with much hoopla and was wearing gloves because I guess he was either too good to touch others or afraid a fervent high-five would hurt his precious pinkie. Well, screw that guy, as I’m sure on this night I gave that chucklehead a run for his money. I was out there going on an hour, slapping five with every person going down to the trains, coming back up from the trains or loitering on the streets. I was not the only one. Hundreds, if not thousands, were packing River Avenue and hugging, kissing and falling down. Milton the Cowbell King was out there with his tin, clanking the happy hits and everyone was adding a voice to the mix. People were shimmying up posts and stagediving to the crowd below. Typing about this now almost brings wistful tears to my eyes. I’m not saying we have become jaded, but wow, winning all the damn time really made it almost “business as usual” as the years rolled by. I hate to say this, but in further years I think some reverted to happy handshakes and congratulatory pats for this honor of seeing the team we loved move onward through the playoff field. Though I attribute some of that to age and our backs being bad!

So yeah, I miss a lot of that initial glee. I loved winning it all in 1996 when the Yankees payroll was not more than that of the rest of the league combined. In time I hope to write a lot more about playoff experiences, up to and including World Series parade experiences. Life as a Yankee fan has been a fun one.

***

This new playoff format bites the bone. A couple of weeks ago co-workers would line up at my desk as they always do, as they like to see me get riled up. In one form or another I would be queried, “So what do you think of the Yankees’ chances in the playoffs?” I would then usher them out of there with a “Get back to me when I know who they are playing, and why.” There was so much mystery involved in most of these matchups I was waiting for the networks to call in Miss Marple to figure it out. Look, everyone likes baseball drama. What we don’t like is invented baseball drama. As much as I was against the initial wild card, I’m even more so against the added wild card and the wonders of a one-game playoff. Will I adjust? Sure, what’s my choice? Stop watching baseball? If the Yankees end up sneaking in one year due to all this tomfoolery I will take it as a fan and use it against others because you are simply working within the parameters in place. That said, the parameters are dumb and once I’m done with this blog I will work on a letter to the commissioner. While he will never see it, someone will have to read it and maybe if it ruins their day cause they have something better to do at the time, so be it.

So yeah, from the wonkiness of the wild card to the pulling out game times only a couple of days before the game like a magician pulling a rabbit out of the hat hoping for applause, its all a big mess. But I will persevere and drink my beer because not only does that sound like a cool motto, it’s how I choose to live. Thankfully I will be doing so once again as I watch the Yankees in the playoffs.

Enjoy the ride, folks. We are Yankee fans and we have it better than everyone.

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