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

Time is getting weird. Like, seriously weird. I took a cab to work yesterday, and when I was getting out, told the driver to "have a good weekend!"

There was this episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (yup, that's right, that's what I said) where people got sucked into this demon dimension, and time calibrations were different there, such that one day in normal, earthly reality was equivalent to like 25 years in the alter-universe. So, when someone would finally escape the demon realm, they'd be spit back onto earth, and even though they were only missing for a few days, they'd look like 100 years old.

So that's what I feel like.

I put the game on the radio at 7:30. I finished work at 9, went to get dinner, and when I looked up at the tv, players were leaving the field. This all seemed to occur in a span of 5 minutes.

I was relieved (sort of) to see that I'm NOT, in fact, going crazy (in the clinical sense of the word, anyway), and that I wasn't sucked in and out of alter-netherworlds. The game lasted 2 and a half hours.

Which was just enough time for the Indians to beat Fatso and the Yanks. What the hell. I take it back, maybe I was in an alter universe after all.

I'd like to go back to earth, I'm not fond a world where the Tribe is the hottest team in the AL Central, where Tubby lets up runs, and worse, gets zero run support.

It wasn't all anomaly city, though. The Yankees, AS ALWAYS, were scratching their heads all night against a new mound taker. Josh Tomlin gets his first MLB win, and it's against the Yanks. That's definitely making headlines in the Tomlin Holiday Newsletter.

But, dammit, it was aposed to be AROD'S day. It's his birthday! Cmon, I know it may be more of a chick thing, but birthdays are like hollowed, sacred ground. You can do no wrong, you're justified in your everything word/action/sin. Respect the berf. And for some reason, the gods of birth celebrating weren't smiling on #13 last night.

0-4, and his well-staged AB with 2 outs in the 9th, with 2 runners on, he was the tying run.

Even though me and my coworker were watching on a tv where the reception and clarity was so bad, I kept thinking we were watching some Yankee Classic from 1966, I could see the same problem I've been seeing in the last week from Arod.

YOU'RE OVERSWINGING.

All you had to do was look at his AB on Sunday, when he ended up getting HBP. He was not just swinging for the fences, but he was whipping the lumber around so aggressively that you couldn't help but call out the Reggie Jackson similarity in his usually very fluid extension.

But he's wrapping the bat around his body, ending up on one knee, contorted, and way off balance. And my dad told me a few months ago at the batting cages why I was hitting so many grounders. Apparently I was getting too anxious for the ball to come in, would crouch down more in determined anticipation, and then have to come back up for my swing, ultimately resulting in only swatting the top of the ball.

I don't know, it made sense to me, and it help immensely.

Too bad my dad can't do what he did at my softball games, which was unapologetically shout tips and advice in full articulation, from the bleachers, while the game was going on. What, I liked it. He didn't address any one except me, and I loved it because it meant he was watching the game, and, well, he sounded so authoritative on everything. It may have been a placebo effect, I got involuntarily more confident because I knew what to do.

But I digress, the point is that Arod needs someone to tell him what to do while he's in the batter's box. This is completely ridiculous, but hey, why not. You know Arod would love the extra face time with his Life Coach.

Speaking of mental toughness, or lack thereof, the Yanks had 2 errors in 1 inning (the 4th) which let 2 runs in. ("And you know, Suzyn, those run-costing errors in the 4th are now really started to loom large here...")

Eh, not really. The Yanks can't win if they're only plating 1 runner. Colin Curtis (smiley emotion) had the sole ribbie of the game in the 8th. 5 hits total in the game and NO WALKS. Man, what kind of world do we live in that the Yanks aren't being patient at the plate?

These aren't the post-ASG Yanks I know! Let's see some pie on Wednesday (which I THINK is today?) (Update 11:11am: Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with me? Now I'm just throwing out PIE references gratuitously.) Our boys really need a big dramatic finish. They may be getting the job down, but sometimes, just sometimes, it seems like they're going through the motions.

Game 101. AJ vs Carmona. So for you bettors out there, I'd recommend NOT making any kind of wager on this one. You're not gonna find 2 more "I can't remember if I'm good or not?" pitchers.

It's probably the same money line whether you pick Burnett or Carmona...or final score of a Cointen Spinky Whompers vs Floing Boing Welfencloppers match.

Lois: Peter, you been fiddling with that ham radio for seven weeks. Take a shower!

Peter: I can barely get any reception on this stupid thing. So far the only station that comes in is some British guys reading news from places I'm not sure exist.

British Guy: [on the ham radio] Today, in Kuzikistan, a peaceful demonstration turned to bloodshed as members of the Turzirly tribe flooded Kenpao Square in remembrance of the third anniversary of the Hormsburg Massacre. But finally, some good news out of neighboring Kanduzi, as locals there have reached an uneasy alliance with the bordering Trolika Bubsie Wubsie Dal. And now with sports, here's Framptal Tromwibbler

Framptal Tromwibbler: From the world of sport, the Cointen Spinky Whompers flumped the Floing Boing Welfencloppers, 70-fluff to 40-flabe. At the tone, the time will be 26 railroad. [tone beeps]

Peter: I'm not sure about any of that.