"It's great to be young and a Yankee."

My first thought when I turned on the tv to Arod batting:

"Come ON, man. If you don't want the sports world having a field day with you, don't use a pink bat!"

Then I remembered it was Mother's Day. Duh.

Which I guess says something about how terrified I am of ARod giving people even the smallest reason to carve him up.

I spent the past week working late and hence saw 0 innings of live baseball, so--like a college student who's outlining how much Beam he's gonna mainline the second he hands in his last final--I was essentially rubbing my hands together on Friday, salivating at the idea of having the entire weekend off to watch baseball interruption-free.

And since it was only 6 years ago that I was that college kid, I remember handing in my last final and wishing I had the energy to punish my liver, but 9 out of 10 times opted to pass out instead. And as guilty as I'd feel about neglecting my college duties to celebrate the end of the term, it wasn't even a choice since I was physically unable to function after a week of studying.

And today? I threw myself on my couch after inhaling a fritatta, the cat came running over to join in on the relaxtion, and I turned on the game.

2 innings later I was out cold.

3 innings after that I woke up to the Yankees being up 5-3.

(Yeah, I missed 3 innings of the game--the innings where the Yankees made a comeback, no less--but for my money, there are few things I like more than the in-and-out-of-sleep nap on a Sunday that's backdropped with a baseball game.)

Apparently, when Joba takes the mound, he works the inverse of this...sleeps for the first 2 innings then is lights out in the 3rd on. Kinda like how you need a few games of beirut to warm up before you can even attempt to get in any kind of groove. There are ways around this, as he should know since he's no stranger to toying with the boundaries of alcohol moderation.

Or maybe, just maybe, this pattern of being phenomenal in the middle innings on, can be interpretted as an indication that HE NEVER SHOULD HAVE LEFT THE F&%$ING BULLPEN!!!

Why is he starting? I have said this from the second the notion was broached, I swear to God. I mean, I know our bullpen is just dazzling as it is, but I'm thinking we could probably squeeze him in.

If I'm starting to feel this much animosity towards Girardi, what could the team actually be thinking? I'm so scared we're about 6 games away from a revolt. Like when Lane Kiffin basically went Peter Gibbons in "Office Space":

Hopefully I won't see the infield decide to all play first base at once, or our outfield set up in a tight triangle formation in center field, as a statement against Girardi's inane strategic tactics.

Actually, strike all that. It might make them look more like a team, a la Nick Swisher coming in for relief in the 15-5 Tampa Bay loss.

But as much as Girardi's managerial moves completely flummox me, I'm infinitely more dumbfounded by the widespread denunciation of Joba's now trademark celebratory fist pump. Last year, the pitcher's move was all over the headlines when David Dellucci of Cleveland struck out in a 6-3 loss to the Yanks, a day after he had the winning 3-run homerun against Joba that won the Tribe the game.

But despite the fact that Beckett, K-Rod, Ben Sheets, Papelbon, and Zambrano (to name just a few) apply equally enthused (if not more enthused) versions of the infamous "fist pump," Joba is the only one that's treated as if he tars and feathers every batter he blanks.

And now we can add Aubrey Huff to the list of overzealous critics, who mocked Joba in the first inning after he hit a 3-run HR against him. Pretty aggressively. It wasn't like the equivalent of a snide-remark-under-your-breath-during-a-status-meeting-to-the-coworker-next-to-you-that-no-one-but-you-two-can-hear. It was throwing spitballs at your coworker's powerpoint show in the middle of his presentation.

We got it, Huff. You're mocking Joba. I don't even get it. You play for the Orioles. What did Joba ever do to you?

See, this is why I have much more tempered inclinations on the subject of trash-talking. Because unless you pull of the W, you look ultimately dumb, and at the end of the day you're walking under the blinding lights of the spotlight on you, the tail between your legs being that much more magnified.

The rest of the team pulled their weight offensively, most everyone chipping in a bit. Jeter finally remembered how to get on base, thankfully, since I'm getting a little frustrated with his lackadaisical fielding.

I'll preface this with asserting that by no means is Jeter anywhere near the bottom tier of current SS's. But I will admit that I'm getting frustrated with his apparent aversion to dealing with anything hit that doesn't accomodate his aesthetically pleasing throw-mid-jump move. As I told my sister:

"I mean, even the video game guys on Nintendo Baseball All Stars AUTOMATICALLY dive for the balls. I don't even have to press any special button combination, it just does it automatically."

Lauren said she wasn't going to address that because it didn't make any sense. I can respect that.