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

Last night was a red letter day, in that it marked the culmination of months of working towards a DDMAC submission. The binders filled of references and clinical data and annotations were finally FedEx-ed, and it was cause for celebration. OR, it was cause for what ACTUALLY happened, which was cause for sleep.

Yeah, it was very much like in college when I'd study relentlessly for weeks for the English Comp exam, and I was all tough guy-ed out, saying "DUDE after I finish this exam, Ima mainline tequila like WHOA." Nope, I was too tired afterwards and would promptly pass out.

Which is what I did last night.

The score was 3-0 and it was Kansas City, and I'm thinking, ahh what a nice relaxing way to end these last few months. And soon enough I was falling into a semi-conscious state on the couch. (Weirdly, even in my semi-conscious state I'm still hardwired to aggressively consume candy. I had one of those ginormous bags of candy that you get from scooping them out of acrylic containers, and then when I woke up only like 15 pieces were left. Oops.)

Also, when I woke up, the encore presentation was playing. Oops.

I shrugged it off, and started watching that. No matter. It worked out well, all I had missed was 1 run from the bat of Aviles, who plated Gordon. 3-1.

FORTUNATELY, I made the mistake of checking my email. (What a weirdly constructed sentence, you may be thinking. It will all make sense soon...) 2 emails from a fellow advertising slave:

"Hey, Robertson, knock it the F^@& off!!!!!!!!"

Oh, shit.

Then immediately after:

"Ah, breathing again..."

PHEW.

Seriously, if I hadn't seen them, the 9th inning would have been MISERABLE for me.

Thank you, rival ad worker.

Tubbo.com took the game into the 9th inning, recording all but the last out until he was yanked. I can't imagine what the heat is like for someone of that obscene girth. Probably not pleasant though, since CC constantly seems to emulate a postmenopausal woman no matter what the temperature is.

So D-Rob comes in to get the final out. Should be easy. Mo not available because he's pitched 4 out of last 5 games. So here's where the things start to get hairy.

It kind of reminds me of this post from the geniuses over at IIHIIF...

Sigh.

Well, remember last year when G decided to go with a 3-man rotation all through the playoffs, and we were like, um ok how long does he really think he can go through with this? At some point, he's gonna have to acknowledge the gaps in his pitching staff.

But he never did. Good call, G. Good f'n call.

And now, we're sort of at a point where it's like, um maybe we need to acknowledge the lack of bullpen? Maybe?

Seriously. I mean, I haven't ripped on our bullpen all season (not really, anyway, with the obvious except of Justin Chamberlain). And I think that's because quite simply THERE IS NO BULLPEN TO RIP ON.

Who do we have to come in for relief?? D-Rob, Justin (puke)...Ugh I don't even know. Seems like everyone is on the DL. Or just doesn't exist anymore. I think at this time last year the Yanks had the best bullpen in baseball.

I'm nervous.

Yeah, I said it. I'm nervous.

All because of one game, one out.

D-Rob comes in, and gives up a 2-run double to Bloomquist (what a weird name) and all of a sudden it's a 1-run game, and a 4-pass cardiac arrest.

Luckily, I knew better. I knew a Yankee fan somewhere was "breathing again."

"If I Was A" Betemit singled to move B-quist to 3rd, and oh boy, that D-Rob was not making any friends this way.

He struck out Kendall, and God only knows how the hell he pulled that off.

"It was the hardest out I've had to make in a long time," he said.

Uh, really? Because I can think of at least ONE other situation where you made not 1 but THREE outs in possibly the hardest scenario you can fathom.

But I think the Bloomquist has fallen from the rose with that one. (Do you see what I did there?) D-Rob got the save, even though there should be some kind of symbol (not an asterisk, which is a symbol I've grown to loathe) But maybe it's a tilda sign, that basically says "Yeah ok, but BARELY."

Kind of like there should be different kinds of car honks. Ones that are like "F^&@ING MOVE YOUR CAR! JUST BECAUSE YOUR HAZARDS ARE ON DOESN'T GIVE YOU CARTE BLANCHE TO PARK WHEREVER THE F YOU WANT" and other honks that are like, "hi i'm here. i'm thinking of merging. just letting you know so we don't collide. cute tank top!"

Other game notes:

Teixeira returned to the game after the birth of his new baby, William Charles. Cute name. And for my money, I'd much rather have a ribbie to commemorate my birth (as Tex executed with a sac fly in the 3rd) than a silver Tiffany's rattle.

There's another Tex in the league. I'm convinced there are only like 30 different baseball player names...and then a litany of completely bizarro ones that stand out even more.

On a final note, why is it so hot in KC? I get why it was like 2398432 degrees in Texas, but isn't KC supposed to be climate controlled?

Good God, someone from the Royals even had to leave in the middle of the game on account of heat exhaustion and dehydration. Which seems a little dumb. I mean, you're a professional ballplayer(~). Shouldn't you know by now to stock up on Gatorade in this heat?

Oh, wait, another final note. (Coworker Mel: "Stop putting 'FINAL' at the beginning of your file names!!!! It's like an automatic jinx!!!!") Papelbon blew another save. I love how the ticker at the bottom of the screen says "Papelbon (BS)" because, indeed, that's what he is.

Yanks in first still. Sux and Rays lose a game. Here we go, boys!

Oh, and the final final note: Happy Friday the 13th.