One half of the TBB here! Today is Saturday and it's 4:26 pm. I am sitting in my living room watching the 9th inning of the Yankees/Angels game. The score is currently 8-1. What the hell is CC's problem?! Last night, the Yankees' performance inspired me to write. Typically, Lisa and I write like crabby old men...bitter and angry at life. The Mets and Yankees cannot make us happy no matter how hard they try. They do something so incredible that we are lifted out of our depths of despair and then follow up their miraculous feats with something utterly ridiculous like a 15 run blow out.
Last night, I went to the Village Pub in Massapequa to celebrate a friend's sister's friend's birthday with drunk karaoke. In between dancing and singing along to such classics as "The Devil Went Down to Georgia," "Hit Me with Your Best Shot," and of course, "The Love Shack," I was glued to the small television screen mounted to the wall. It was the 8th inning and the Yankees were down to those damn Angels 9-4. This is where the Yankees usually fall apart. With an offense like theirs, it is flabbergasting that they cannot score runs when it matters. They either beat a team to the point of death or they can barely scratch 1 pathetic run across the plate. I don't get it.
Only...that's not what happened last night. The Yankees did something that I've been fantasizing about them doing for the past three seasons. They FOUGHT back. They managed to put together 4 runs before Arredondo can retire the side, making the score 9-8. At the end of the inning, my heart was pounding so loud that I feared the sound might interfere with the interesting and tone deaf rendition of Guns N' Roses' "Sweet Child of Mine." I stifled the hope that the 8th inning had allowed to grow because I know how the 9th inning usually goes for the Yankees. If men get on base to begin a rally, someone hits into a double play, ending the game. Jonathan Albaladejo entered the game for the Yankees and quickly sat all three batters the Angels sent to the plate.
In the 9th inning, with no outs, Brian Fuentes loaded the bases for Jorge Posada. Again, my heart pounded and I gripped the bottle of my Coors Light in anticipation. I succeeded in almost drowning out the sound of a drunk Neil Diamond singing "America." Then it really happened...Jorge Posada hit a 2 run single, prompting me to jump up and down and scream and Sean to ask, "What is wrong with you?"
The final score: 10-9.
It's now 5:01 pm. The game is over and the final score is 8-4, which is a little bit better than 8-1. The Yankees attempted to fight back again, but stupid Johnny Damon killed the rally by striking out for the third out. I have a few choice words to describe how I feel about him, but I shall refrain from posting them here. However, what I will choose to walk away from today's game with is the fact that the Yankees made the effort to come back again. Perhaps this is a sign of a new habit developing. Hope, hope, hope. At least the Yankees are winning the series so far. Tomorrow we will see if the Yankees have finally figured out their Angels woes.