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

Good God. Yesterday was quite a day.

After a long day at the office, I make it to Duke's to watch the game. The Yanks take an early 1-0 lead with a bomb from Arod in the 2nd. Yay! Arod hits a solo! (I was actually gonna say, there's something about an early homerun against the O's doesn't really do much in terms of getting the fans fired up. HOWEVAH, last night, it literally did set off fireworks.)

Baltimore, you are so dumb. For realz.

Someone accidentally let loose with the pyrotechnics display behind the scoreboard after Arod goes yard. Ha.

It's weird watching games while you're eating at a bar, because with all the external stimuli, you're bound to get a little tangled up in your sense of continuity. So you can look at the screen and it's 1-0 in the 2nd, and then you can look at it again in what feels like 3 minutes, and you're confused to see that innings of time have lapsed, and somehow the O's have taken a 2-1 lead.

Markakis hit a sac fly in the 3rd that scored Izsturis, who had gotten on base from a HBP.

Jones goes deep and then all of sudden (ie like 5 innings later) I see we're down 3-1 when some guy named Andino (who are these people?? I need the MLB extra innings package again) homers.

You know what was sad? 2 months ago, I'd have been screaming and getting heart palpitations over losing to the O's. But I realized as I was finishing up my chicken fingers and ranch that I wasn't shocked or angry. Just disappointed. And there's nothing sadder than self-awareness of complacency.

Then everything got crazy. Complacency turned into frenzy. By the time I've made my way back uptown and into my apartment, the game had ended.

"The yankees win" said a text from my buddy.

"?!! Really? NICEEE."

"You know how it happened?"

"Was on subway, how did it end already?"

"2 outs, 2 strikes, 2 on, 2 down. 9th inning. Arod 3-run shot."

And everything was right in the world.

The first thing I thought of? Michael Kay making his little "And the Yankees are down to their final strike" laments. And then the feeling of the whole world changing.

Well, maybe not the whole world, but you know what I mean. It's amazing how swiftly the entire mood of a night can change. In one swing of the bat. How one swing of the bat can change not just the mood, but the game, the American League standings, the palate of hope and optimism in Yankee Universe.

It's amazing how one call can change all that, too.

Watching the replays, I saw how the pitch prior to the homerun was a borderline strike that Arod let sail inside. Ball.

And I saw how Arod did everything he could to mask his smile of surprise and relief.

You got lucky on that one, boy.

But on the next one, you were good.

I'd rather be good than lucky.

Mo closed out the game, and the Yankees won 4-3. Their 8th 1-run game in the last 10.

I'm ready for a blow out game. (In our favor, of course.) These 1-run heart stoppers are fun if you're idly watching a game with no vested interest in it, but in the last month of the regular season, when your team is barely hanging on to the division lead, when your team needs more than oxygen than to gain momentum...well, then I can do without the drama.

What I want is reassurance that we'll be ok come the playoffs.

And with one swing of the bat, Arod did his part to help give me that.

It doesn't mean everything's different, but it means it can be.

Ok, in OTHER game news, no word yet on why AJ looked like he got into a bar brawl moments before taking the mound.

He's such a psychopath. A looney who pitched a good game though. 7 IP, 6 hits, 3 runs, 5 Ks. Not bad. I'll take it. Millwood definitely pitched better but Yankee bats love teeing off on Japanese relievers, it seems.

Things are getting weird in the Yankee clubhouse. Random black eyes, Jeter faking injuries...it's like the twilight zone. Like watching an episode of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia." I'm never really sure I'm following it, but it's entertaining, and it's better to just enjoy it then make sense of it.

And speaking of things that you enjoy but can't make sense of, the last element of weirdness in the night?

The "Gallery Exhibition" I went to at Strange's place. For the last few weeks, I was working on this big covert operation painting for one of their roommates.

And last night the prank came to a head.

Brendan Schmitt unveiled what he believed was going to be a painting of a troll (a symbol of going to bars and picking up chicks, I believe?)...but the unveiling revealed much more.



Yep. That's where my life's at.

The reaction Brendan had to seeing himself in the buff was as priceless as anyone could have hoped.

Shocking moment #2 of a night where nothing at all made sense.

And everything worked out perfectly.