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So my art partner pops her head in my office and asks I'm free to work on new ad ideas for a cancer drug. I shut off the radio in my office, she laughs and asks a completely perfunctory "what's the score?"

"Yanks tied it up, 2-2."

A half hour later, after taking a break from brainstorming to eat Carvel ice cream cake, I return to my office and check the score.

"Wait, WHAT? 11-3???"

I check my phone to see a message from my sister, and it's like she KNEW my train of thought. Like she could picture me revisiting the game after doing actual work, and she knew I'd be all shades of confused.

"The Yanks scored 9 in the 6th."

999999999

Nine! Our favorite number!

After Miggy took the Yanks deep AGAIN (seriously, maybe Gaudin had the right idea "beaning" him the other night), the Yanks fell into an early 2-0 hole in the 1st.

A couple of manufacturer runs later, and it's a tie game thanks to Swish and Grandy's RBI singles in the 4th. Alright, way to go, Yanks! Coming from behind! (How weird is that, that overcoming 2-run deficits to the Tiggers in the middle of the game are not givens by any stretch.)

But what happened in the 6th was the handiwork of the team that I envision when I think of the Yanks. Cano's tie-breaking double started the charge, and then things got bananas.

And Cano's 2-run bomb in the same inning capped off the scoring for the day.

Poor Porcello. I like the guy ever since he help his own against the warped freak of nature that is Kevin Youkilis. (Whatever happened to that guy? Oh yeah. DL. Love lost there=zero.)

And he didn't really have the greatest night. And he didn't have it in front of allll his friends. Ugh. That sucks. I mean, obviously I'd rather him implode than look like a god in front of his posse, but still. It's always interesting and kind of a relief when you have those moments when you realize that your conscience still holds the trump card.

"The big inning spoiled a homecoming for 21-year-old Tigers pitcher Rick Porcello, who made his first career start at Yankee Stadium. Porcello attended Seton Hall Prep in nearby West Orange, N.J., and said he left at least 40 tickets for family and friends."

Not one for his baby books. But maybe this is:



Oh, Rick! (Also kind of sad how he said he thought he had good stuff last night, and that he didn't go out there overmatched. It's like dressing up to the 9s, being loaded for bear, and looking your absolute best...and getting blown off.)



Tonight's game was devoid of any fiery brawls like the one prior. I guess what it lacked in player dramatics it made up for in batting dramatics. For NY anyway. The Tiggers were completely lifeless.

Hughes was brilliant, finally, and--just like the bats--made me think of the Yanks how I'm accustomed to thinking of them. Girardi took advantage of the bajillion run lead, and pulled Hughes after only 84 pitches. Good move, G.

Mitre got the save (his first) and just look at everyone having good days! He did give up 3 runs though, so he's lucky he still was able to get the save. Meh, whatever. Great win for us. The bats that were supposed to hit, did. The pitcher that was supposed to shine, did.

Oh, and Boston and Tampa Bay lost. Guess the Rays' bats that were supposed to hit, didn't. And guess the pitcher that supposed to shine for them, didn't. And hasn't. God, I love seeing Beckett crumble.

Does that make me a bad person? Because that whole conscience thing I was talking about earlier...none of it manifesting itself when I think about good ol' Josh. Fake injuries and all.

Welcome back to the FIRST PLACE SPOT, YANKEES!

And to commemorate this excellent day, I even received my Fushigi ball, which I've been waiting for for OVER A MONTH.

Things are looking up!

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