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So I got a little bit of a fever today. At first I thought it was a hangover, but while that definitely came into play, it is decidedly a fever. As such, Gatorade isn't helping.

I didn't catch all of last night's game, on account of Nightmare on Elm Street opening. When I entered the theater, the Yanks were down 3-0 (Konerko homered to bring in Beckham, Ramirez, and Konerko), and based on the frantic text messages from my buddies, Andy wasn't all that sharp.

However, when I left the theater, the Yanks were winning 6-4 in the seventh, and upon turning my phone back on, the bevy of messages indicated Jeter was having himself a tasty snack of an evening.

I didn't even realize HOW tasty that snack was until I was in the presence of a tv again:

Jeter hit a tiebreaking, two-run triple in the seventh inning and a 2-run ding with 2 outs in the 5th, finishing the night 3 for 4, with 4 RBIs...he was the difference, as he usually is. Ozzie Guillen, who is absolutely my favorite part about any series with the White Sox, astutely points out that "if Jeter wasn't on the team, we win the game." Brilliant stuff.

Our captain is now batting .538 (7 for 13) in his last three games.

Andy was a little rocky and after letting up 4 runs and 7 hits, the vet's ERA has ballooned to a fat 2.12. Our bullpen plugged up the bats, though, with the Aces-Marte-Joba-Mo train working out flawlessly.

Mo particularly looked sharp, sharper than usual. His cutter seemed to have more movement or something. He strikes out 2 in the 9th, getting the save and Aces gets the win. Just the way it should be.

Bats were a little meh yesterday, with the obvious exception of Jeter, also GGBG who went 2 for 3. That kid is so f'n fast it's cartoonish.

Gordan Beckham was really the loudest lumber on the SouthSide, which was good since my little quasi-sleeper has been doing just that: sleeping. I hate when that happens. I TOOK A GAMBLE ON YOU, KID. I COULDA HAD FIGGINS. WAKE UP GORDO.

So, yeah, there's that. OK back to to game that's actually on right now. Yanks are down, which should be no surprise since Javy's pitching. Ok Vazquez. THAT'S ALL I CAN TAKE...AND I CAN'T TAKE NO MORE.

Get your f'n head in the game, assclown.

Or don't pay any attention to me. I'm feverish and aggressive.


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