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Sorry for the delay on this, but yesterday was nothing short of bananas. Which reminds me of this Louis C.K. bit where he talks about what people did before Jesus was alive. What did they say before they could exclaim, "Christ!" when something astounded them. "Wow, um, look at that. It's...Hmpf. Bananas."

Anyways, so yesterday indeed was bananas in every sense of the word. I wake up after an hour of sleep to see on the news the restaurant that I always escape to for lunches when I need a breather from the office, had been on fire for 9 hours. A 5-alarm fire that took 200 firemen to control it.

Which meant that 3 blocks away, my office building reeked of smoke and burning stuff.

Which means all the fans were shut off.

Then 5 hours later, I open the door to my office, to discover that apparently the offices are soundproof or something because my floor is empty and there's fire alarms blaring.

I call my sis, who works 6 floors above me: "What the hell are you still doing in the building? There's like a bajillion fire engines here and smoke coming out!! Get out now!!"

Indeed, there was a completely unrelated fire in the building. And hence my work day ended at 3. And me and my coworkers all guiltily admitted it felt like an adult's version of a snow day.

Since no one was hurt, we didn't feel too guilty about spending the rest of the day across the street relishing happy hour prices that we had always assumed were urban legends.

$3 margaritas? Wow. I guess the bar stays in business since no one in midtown ever actually leaves work in time to take advantage of them. Not last night though.

I made it home in time to watch the game, but unfortunately I had left my energy elsewhere. The 1 hour of sleep, the 5 hours of drinking, the frenzy of the day...all combined to induce sleep somewhere around the 8th inning.

Somewhere RIGHT before Joba tied the game.

Somewhere after I thought the game was all but over.

The Yanks had a 5-4 lead. I woke up this morning assuming they'd won.

I don't have to explain how disgustingly wrong I was on that count.

Truthfully, I'm almost relieved I fell asleep, even it was on the wildly uncomfortable Sofa For Asthetic Purposes Only.

Because there are few worse feelings that staying up all night to watch a heart-stopping extra innings game, (a possible playoff preview, no less), only to see it end in the heart-breaking deflation of a walk-off (from the bad guys, obviously).

I called my dad and the first thing he said: "KRISTEN. TELL ME THE TRUTH. TELL ME. DID JOBA" (pronounced JOE-ba) "REALLY GIVE UP A TYING HOMERUN ON THE VERY PITCH HE THREW?"

"Um, yes?"


"Yes, why is this so unbelievable?"

"I tell you something, Kris. They should've traded him. He throws like shit, sorry my language. Too many sliders, not enough fastballs. He's terrible. Why am I getting so worked up about this? ...sigh... So. The cat has cancer by the way. We have to cut off his leg. I'm not doing it. Don't tell your mother. Alright, I'm going back to sleep."


Here's the heart of what happened last night.

New York, which stranded 18 runners, loaded the bases with two outs in the 13th, but Chad Moeller flied to center. The Yankees had a runner on third with one out in the 12th after Moeller doubled into the right-field corner and advanced on Brett Gardner's sacrifice bunt.

But Derek Jeter, who was 1-for-7, was retired on a weak groundout, and Colin Curtis struck out swinging.

"We left a lot of guys on base," Jeter said. "Good teams find a way to get those runs in."

Once again, every time I looked up at the tv, the bases were loaded. And 2 seconds later, the Rangers would be batting.

They can't bring runners in. A line up like that and they can't bring runners in.


They're f'n bears, man. And acting like the guy in the PG-13 movie you're realllly rooting for.

The Yanks don't straighten their shit out soon, and they're gonna need a lot more than their fans reallllly rooting for them.

I'm starting to think Jeter's slump is more serious than we thought. It's affecting everything. He's the bread and butter of the lineup, to some degree, and his grounding into double plays, stranding's debilitating. He's the captain and he's failing us.

It was a rough game to watch. Parts of it the Yanks seemed to be toughing it out, Javy working hard, and not really pitching a terrible game in my estimation. It kinda sucked though when Kinsler was called safe on a no-question-about-it caught stealing situation.

He stayed on, and then scored. That run kinda was important in the grand scheme of things.

The little bitch ejected for arguing strikes, and I'm thinking, "you're serious? You got a gift earlier, and now you're complaining that you want more?"

Speaking of little bitches, and things that were kinda important in the grand scheme:

Justin's refusal to throw his fastball more= aggravating beyond the telling of it.

One slider in the 8th, and Nelson Cruz slammed it out to tie the game.

A game that never should have been 5-4. It was a game that should have been about 12-3. But the Yanks kept blowing it. Blown calls, blown opportunities.

A typical playoff game.

Except with 19 pitchers.

The people who I don't want to kill: Arod, Timms, Tex, and Cervelli. Everyone else was a disappointment yesterday. In a time when they can't afford to get complacent.

They dropped to only 1.5 games ahead of TB, but that's even what I'm really talking about. They can't afford to get complacent, because once you slip into that attitude, it's so hard to regain your competitive momentum.

And as any fan knows, the worst part about investing so much of yourselves in a team isn't really the heartache of watching them's the heartache of knowing you can't do anything about it.


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