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

Sorry, I really can't expound on this one. I saw this game in bits and pieces through a delirious haze, I just got back from the doctor and it turns out I have the flu. Ugh.

I'm flying real low to the ground today, and need to get back in bed, but wanted to at least post a few thoughts on the shitshow I witnessed last night. If "witnessed" is really what you can call it. It felt more like a dream sequence. Something where there was no time continuum.

I fell asleep at some point, woke up to my sister texting me, "Is beckett kidding me with this move??"

I pull myself together and there's some kind of delay of game, apparently Beckett contracted an injury in a manner essentially identical to that of a little kid who doesn't want to go to school and take his vocab quiz he didn't study for.

After a 2-run double from Cano, Beckett decides he's injured. Which is BS on so many counts, I can't even begin to go into it, because that alone may induce a barf-o-rama on my end.

But I'll try:

1. He made no indication that I could see that he was struggling up to that point.
2. The trainer never had come up to check on him.
3. The trainer hadn't even come up with Francona at all during the mound visit, only after Beckett had already left the game.
4. I saw that one coming a mile away. When it was bases loaded with Randy Winn up, I had texted my sister, "If he gives up a HR to Winn right now, Beckett is just going to walk off field and retire." Can't you see that happening? Beckett just being all, "F this shit. I'm tired of this crap. It's everyone else's fault, not mine though."

It was smart of Girardi to lodge a formal protest, and I don't know what exactly happens now, but I know it was ultimately a one run game. We had a runner in scoring position when Beckett came out, and that runner could have been the game decider. If ever that was a chance to legitimately get a mulligan, it's on this game.

But the sports world hates the Yankees, loves the Sux. In fact, I actually threw up when I saw the ticker at the bottom of SportsCenter last night. "Red Sox beat Rivera in the 9th, Beckett leaves with back injury."

I can't think about it, it's gonna make me sick again.

So, yeah, I don't really know what happened here, but I do know, all of a sudden I woke up and it was 5-5.

What felt like 2 seconds later it was 7-5.

Then I wake up again, 7-6. I couldn't process anything, but I know they lost. And per my sister's incensed game recap when she came over last night, "It looked like there were all of 13 people left in Yankee Stadium by the end of the game. And despite that, I have NEVER, EVER heard ANYONE booed at loud as they booed Joba. I'm not kidding. And it started when he was still in the game. Seriously, it was crazy."

So maybe half of me is happy I didn't see Justin implode? I don't know. But it's bedtime for bonzo now.

I'll be back in the fray soon enough, thanks to the wonders of modern medicine. Let's shake this one off, and focus on beating an actual contender tonight, Tampa Bay. The Red Sox may have taken one from us, but look at it this way: the only way they could beat us is when they cheat.

You stay classy, Boston.