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April 8, 2012

Every Yankee fan knows that losing sucks the most for us. Seriously. Because we don't expect it. We expect to win. But not only that, it sucks because we have a world of sports fans waiting for us to fail so they can laugh at us. Being a Yankee fan is awesome. Losing when you're a Yankee fan is miserable.

However, the sting is taken off SLIGHTLY when you know you can sidestep the hoards of idiot Boston fans who also just got swept. 10 minutes ago, I watched the Sox smugly score 2 runs in the top of the 11th to give them a comfortable 12-10 lead heading into the bottom of extra innings.

Four minutes ago I watched Alex Avila hit a walkoff bomb to give the Tiggers the win, after 4 hours and 4 minutes of battling. At least the Yanks had a neat 0-3 loss, and hence can avoid wisecracks from the Boston peanut gallery. Theoretically we still have the Metsies to worry about, but I think even their fans are kind of confused about the way things are going.

Except Jaimie in Florida, the eternal optimist and their #1 fan, who emailed me yesterday to say:

On the road to the World Series, the Mets are 2-0.

Yes. And the Yankees are overfeated.

(Oh, and three minutes ago I saw the most ridiculous golf shot in the history of ever. I don't watch a lot of golf, so I had to ask my parents if this type of thing happens a lot. They said no.)

Hellickson pitched a great game, but the credit instead was given to the totally novel idea of shifting the outfield when lefties come up. It's wacky and goes against all conventional thought, but Maddon don't care. He's an iconoclast who throws the rule book away when it comes to managing his team.

Carlos Pena continued to be a beast, tricking everyone--even the smart ones--into thinking that it's not a fluke, that he's going to have a Bautista-esque year.

He went 2 for 4 with another bomb, and good God, I will be happy to get the hell out of the Trop.

The land of cowbells and tinny talent. Domes and stilted games.

I miss the Bronx. The zoo. Where baseball is real.

Both teams left 7 on base. The Yankees were a brilliant 0 for 6 with RISP (the Rays not faring much better, 1 for 5.) But listen to this, Tampa struck out 11 times, compared to the Yanks' 4 Ks.

I gotta say, you know how I hate when announcers do that thing--where after a player ropes one to center right into someone's glove, or sails on back, back, and then watches it caught at the warning track-- he says something like "Well, you can't ask for a better hit than that."

You know how much I hate when they say that because you CAN ask for a better hit than that.

That said, I was very much encouraged by the fact that while the balls were zipping right into the BRILLIANTLY placed fielders' mitts, they were, indeed, hit extremely well. I read somewhere that players actually get MORE discouraged when they hit it well, because they feel like they can't catch a break or something.

Something else I thought was encourage was the fact that Swisher was sitting on pitches a bit more. I remember last year he got it into his head that he was a cartoon or something, who could just swing as hard as he could and the bat would magically grow to whack the ball out of the park. Like something out of "Who Framed Roger Rabbit." Or Little Monsters.

And it got annoying, like when he was supposed to be bunting and he'd pop up. The same way how my sister and dad get annoyed at me the few times they dealt me in to a poker hand, and I decide to bet the farm on every hand because why not? But today he was good. 17 pitches. Got on base when he was supposed to. I like it.

Speaking of bunting, I know I'm missing something here but can someone please explain to me why Girardi had Chris Stewart bunting in the 5th with 1 out and no one on?

Also, it was Hellickson's birthday. Turned 25 today. Came very close to pitching a complete game shutout against the terrifying Yankees. But he gives up a walk in the 9th on pitch 117, and Prof Maddon has seen all he needs to. Pulls him and puts in Rodney to zip the Rays into the victory.

I was very disappointed that I never got to see our old friend Farnsworth. I feel like the balls would have been leaving the Trop so fast that you would have seen comet tails coming out of them or something. Apparently I'm on a big cartoon kick today, maybe a side effect of spending the day with my little cousins? Semantics.

Phil Hughes was pitching well, he looked like he was getting kind of down on himself actually, but he shouldn't have. He looked good.

Clay Rapada, who sounds like he is a earthy tone label on a color swatch at Benjamin Moore and not a Major League pitcher, probably would have been effective if he was being against fabrics in interior decorating capacities, rather than trying to stop the score hemorrhage.

I am confused as to why you bring someone in to intentionally walk someone. I mean, can't anyone just do that?

Boone Logan gave up a run, but Boone Logan has some kind of carte blanche clause in his contract because the Yankees seem to just love him, not unlike they did Sean Henn. He was Yogi Berra's favorite Yankee. Really.

Sometimes I think the Yanks can't help but be a little influenced by the coolness of the pitcher's name, when determining how they feel about him. I'm actually ok with that.

I like Arod's take on the game:

"Everything they did worked out perfectly. Everything we did worked out imperfectly."

Really well put, actually. Not used to this kind of lucidity from #13.

I also like the pre-game in the booth, the unnecessarily urgent market research on the best Easter candy. Bob Lorenz was pissed that David Cone wasn't sharing his candy or something, and everyone was pissed that Jelly Beans were not voted the best candy.

(I was not pissed but I was disappointed that 2012 marks the first year in my life that the Easter bunny did NOT visit. There is no candy in my parents house, and I'm basically getting the shakes right now.)

Bob Lorenz also reminds us that "if this were a marathon, we'd only be like one hundredth of the way through.  It's not like we're halfway through the race here."

Which should clear up any lingering confusions about whether or not the season is 4 games long. Or longer.

Here's to doing work in Baltimore!

"I've been the best, I've been the worst, but no matter what, I've come out first." -All Dogs Go to Heaven


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