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So this game marked my first game that I missed on account of work, and also the first game I listened to in its entirety on the radio in my office of new job. Should put it in my baby book maybe.


(On a side note, people always say that, about baby books, but I've seen my actual baby book, and it wouldn't really be a stretch if this went in it. As my parents' firstborn, my mom documented EVERYTHING I did. My favorite is an entire chapter on the relationship I had with my teddy bear. I'm not kidding. There's even a page where Teddy's eye is scotch taped to the page. Which, now that I'm thinking about it, is kind of creepy. Poor Teddy, had to give up his eye to accomodate my mom's need to have physical evidence of my profound dependency on him.)

The game seemed to be moving along swimmingly, Granderson went yard, and you can imagine the shitshow that ensued in the CBS broadcast booth. GRANDerson hitting a GRAND slam? I mean, it's probably the whole reason Sterling went into sports announcing to begin with, just for that opportunity.

The score quickly gets to 6-0 and Phil Hughes, the run hemorrhager that he is (nope), really needed that (nope). He did actually give up a fair share of hits to a team that generally couldn't hit water if they fell out of a boat. 9 hits, 3 runs, and the score is 6-3 by the time he's pulled. Didn't really think the game would go anywhere after that. I mean, there's only 3 innings left, you know?

Then things started getting weird. Here's how it started: The Yanks posted about 1000 runs in the 7th, because they're the Yankees and they were playing the Orioles and that's what happens. 12-3. Standard stuff, really. That wasn't that weird, although the run explosion was a little jarring.

(Probably because it was punctuated by Tex going 3 for 4 with 2 walks.)

Swish, Cano, GGBG, and Grandy were all superbats in this game. Cano is so good that his crazy outings are becoming par for the course. Don't worry, Robbie. It's not going unnoticed, and NO ONE is taking your superb ever improving game, for granted. Thanks.

And thank you, Kevin Long for beating some sense into Tex's batting problems. Again, not going unnoticed. If I was an emoticon type of person, I'd put a couple here to indicate my cute appreciation and light-hearted delight. I draw the line at one of those emoticons with the tongue sticking out. When I see a guy put that in a text message, it's hard for me to not wildly judge and think differently of him. :-p (Vomit.) Why isn't there a vomit emoticon btw? Something to think about...

If there WAS one, not only would I gratuitously use it, but I'd do so right about now, as a segue into what Chad Gaudin decided to unleash in the 8th inning. He managed to give up 4 runs in the span of 13 batters. He closed out the game after relieving D-Rob, and all of a sudden, the 12-3 lock up win was a "Holy Crap if the O's come back and beat us, this will be it for the whole morale thing."


The Yanks sidestep that landmine, I finally get out of work around 11pm, and almost immediately pass out on the couch. My sleepwalking tendencies were in rare form last night, and among the remnants of my adventures in REM include a row of hairbrushes lined up on my coffee table in size order, a semi circle of paper towel wads lined up around my sink, and a Nalgene bottle with salsa in it. It's like every night I pass out I risk waking up to a "Hangover"-like scene. Only, without the headache and without the alcohol.

In other news, the Lakers rallied to beat Boston in the Garden (yesssss) and Strasberg strikes out 14 in his major league debut. And for some reason, I swear to God, I'm still not buying the hype. I'm not kidding. I need to stop reading so many CIA interrogation books. It's making me skeptical of everything. Even things like mind-blowing pitching performances.

BUT, I will say I 100% believe the Bryce Harper hype. I don't know why, but I think this guy (despite the huge enormous risk he'll get hurt and be the biggest disappointment since Ryan Anderson), is going to be the Lebron of MLB. The high school guy who you assume is just good because he's a man playing with boys, but who enters the pro's and STILL plays like a man among guys. Plus, I think this guy's Yankee material.



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