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Yeah, I know. It's a little late. Like 8 hours or so. But I'm here. And as I think it was John Lennon or Paul McCartney or one of them said, "Life happens when you're busy playing beirut." Or maybe my college roommate who said, "Food can wait, there's beirut on the table."

Either way, post game I got a bit distracted. Amazing. I actually get to see at least 50% of the game, and get to witness the sheer unbridled pleasure of this team who, as Swish lovvvvves to remind us, "has got no quit in it." And there's the rub. The Catch 22, I think, of sports writing.

It was like after the Giants won the Super Bowl. (Have I mentioned that before? Not today, anyway.) And I was so happy I could barely function. It was EXTREMELY difficult to sit down and limit myself to the confines of my desk, but you have to because you gotta at least try to capture the unparalleled ecstasy at that moment. I covered the Super Bowl the next morning, it was too tall a charge to try to do so that night. (And apparently I was too busy calling my parents on the hour every hour. They loved that.)

But it ended up being one of my favorite articles I’ve ever written.

Of course, last night was NOTHING like 2/3/08. Nothing ever will be. But the point is, I decided to channel my excitement over a pretty good win over a terrible team in early September (I CANNOT believe it’s Sept already, btw) by dominating a lot at the table.

I was so much of an ass about it, that I took out my ever present sharpie at the end of 2 successful matches and signed the ping pong ball to give to the loser.

As usual, my partner was extremely disturbed by my insistence that he upperarm slam my upper arm a la Shelely Duncan. I don’t make the rules, buddy. That’s how I work.

Anyways, so before it gets so late that tonight’s game is upon us, here’s what I got:
  • I swear to God, tonight I’m looking up Swish and Hideki’s stats to see if there’s ANY overlap in the Venn diagram of their streaks. Swish? 16 dings in 26 games? Unreal. Really, really ridiculous.
  • The one shot in particular that sent the Yankees securely in the lead was just an absolute beauty and beast at once. It was such a shot, such a strong stroke and blast, that it didn’t even look like him. It was like an Arod or Tex homerun. I was awed and basically floored.
  • ARod. Clutch. Everyone can shut the f&*# up about it. Please.
  • Another error in this game. Unlike my sister, I HATE them. HATE. She gets giddy over em. I don’t get it. It’s like how girls get about 2-point conversions. Weird. Anyways, I could do without them. (Speaking of errors, I did happen to visit ESPN.com when I got back home last night, and almost had my first ROTFL moment when I saw the homepage story and picture of Ozzie. Poor dude. He definitely ranks in the top 10 people I’d last want to frustrate. He’s like a cartoon. Seriously. Almost like Joe in Family Guy. Can’t you see him demanding the Sox to do a song and dance number like this?

  • Chris Ray. Why does that name sound familiar. Oh yeah, he was the one I was instructed to pick up in one of the last rounds of my draft by the counsel of the guy I was dating at the time. I think Dan Uggla was the only legit suggestion he had for me. And Nick Markakis. Chris Ray, you might remember, is the dude who now falls into Farnsworthless and Sturtze status as “Take the under in the O/U for how many pitches I’ll throw before getting taken deep. Trust me”- relievers.
  • AJ. Uhh. Ok, so when I had my radio thingy on Sunday, they asked me if I was worried and I basically was more confident than a 23-year old I-banker talking to a freshman at USC. “Oh sure, he’ll be fine. No prob. He’s aces.” My buddy Keith was like spitting nails when I saw him in the 2 inning. “HE’S GIVEN UP AT LEAST 20 HITS. I’M NOT KIDDING, CYC. 20 HITS. MAYBE MORE.”
  • Was Jorge high? Seriously.

I don’t know whether I should be concerned. (About AJ, not Jorge.) But it seems like when one person doesn’t show up for the game, the rest of the team makes up for it. Which is they’re so good. No one’s good every day, all the time.

So the best teams are the ones that account for this. And not falter but adapt.

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