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

So I text my buddy before the game starts: Game 114. Cano is player of the game. You know, cux 1+1= 2. Then 4."

What a lovely game. The only downside to an afternoon delight like this one is that my hangover comes before people are even settled into happy hour. So here I am, home, chugging gatorade, looking for ibuprofen by tearing through the 8 boxes in my apartment that are still unpacked, and may very well remained unpacked for the rest of my natural existence the way things are going, and getting geared up for the night games which will serve as a comfortable backdrop for my inevitable comatose delirium.

• The Yankees took the game into 11 innings underneath the skies of the Bronx that looked 5 seconds away from treating us to a monsoon.

• I'm not the only one who a little banged up today. Considering the Yanks weren't even playing the Sox, or that they didn't even get into any kind of bench clearing brawl (or even a terse word-exchange for that matter), the Yanks got the shit kicked outta them everywhere but the scoreboard.
  
  A-Rod got drilled so hard, I could hear it in the upper tier and I can't hear outta one ear. Jeter hurt his foot and had to be taken out of the game, after trying to limp unsuccessfully to first. Posada caught the angry end of a foul ball pretty hard and now his hand is all swoll'd up. Apparently, Mo's flirting with the infirmary too, whose arm was reportedly "cranky" this morning. (I'm probably just a little dehydrated from today, but I'm imagining Mo getting into tiff with his arm now, a la Chris Griffin and his zit.)
  
  
• There was roughly 9,210 passed balls. I'm not kidding. Exagerrating, ok. But not kidding. I was really kind of surprised some douche with a name jersey* didn't erupt into a Bring Back Cervelli chant.

• Chad Gaudin had his orientation seminar today, coming in for relief and then getting the W. 2 scoreless innings. Please for the love of all that is holy ditch the Troll facial hair.
  

• In his last nine games, Johnny Damon has five homers and eight RBIs.

• Cano got a whipped cream pie in the face. Seriously, AJ looks more and more intense and aggressive every time he rolls out this little ritual. And not in a Will Ferrell in Old School locker room kind of way. Like a Mama Fratelli chasing after the Goonies kind of way.

• The Jays got 14 hits, 10 off AJ. How is this mathematically possible to score 3 runs off 14 hits? Seriously. Blows my mind.
  
• AJ also K-ed 7 and threw wild thrice. I love him. He's like a tougher Steve Dalkowski, my original blog's namesake.

• 5 relievers came in after AJ and let up zero runs. This is how good our pen's been playing: Phil Hughes' 2K, 2H outing was worrisome for a moment or two.

• My camera died, as my camera's want to do, and as such, didn't capture the jumbotron the way I wanted it to, when it said "Melky has 3 'walk-offs' these season." (Or something to that effect. I wanted a pic of it to document the gratuitous use of quotes around walk-off. You guys know how I get about excessive punctuation.)

• 23 Ks between the 2 teams today. Like the punctuation, seemed excessive.

• Ramiro Pena got picked off and bobbled a grounder to short, but I still think he'll plug up the occasional empty roster spots nicely.

• The Yanks head to the West now. I hate when they leave home. And they have to travel with all those injuries and everything. Grumble grumble. Come back soon please. I'll be halfway empty until then.

I was so excited about the win that I went home and learned how to play the song from the NBA commercial.** It didn't make me more fired up. But it's so, so, so pretty. Too bad it's wasted on professional basketball.