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I don't know what it is about watching thunderstorms on the roof that get me every time. This time it made me more sad than usual. Maybe because the Yankees got rocked by Verlander and his dominant 14K performance. Maybe because it reminds me of Ohyob, who has since dropped off the face of the planet, aka moved to upstate NY. But at any rate, the electricity on the roof was more akin to the electricity in Detroit than anything going on in NYC.

The Yankees got routed last night, as Justin Verlander reminded everyone that he is still insanely dominant, kind of like how Michael Phelps likes to do that to poor Ryan Lochte. (Look! An Olympic reference! Topical!) I kind of feel bad for Ryan Lochte in a way, since he's so ridiculously hot and yet has discovered that this and a subway card will get him uptown, in terms of gold medal-collecting. Technically, being that hot will get you SOMEWHERE, just not on the highest Olympic pedestral. It will get you this smokeshow, though. Cheers, Phelps.

Lochte's mother, however, gets the gold for blowing up spots. I love mothers. I WISH my mom would blow up my spot more. Instead, she seems to do the opposite (which would be..I don't know? Tilling soil of spots? I have no idea. She harvests spots, though, at any rate. Which amounts to me going on blind date after blind date with people she either meets in traffic or at funerals or even in the live studio taping of The View.)

Anyways, back to other things being blown up, such as Nova's ERA last night. And Verlander's K/9. Both things erupted. (Pause?)

Everyone struck out except Cano and Jeter. Which is pretty f'n nuts. Grandy whiffed thrice, as did Tex and Sneach. Basically you were lucky if you escaped the game with only 1 strikeout. Sad. Even sadder was that the 2 runs the Yanks tacked on the board weren't even earned. I mean, ok, yeah, we'll take 'em and all. But in a losing effort like that, it sort of makes it that much more pathetic. If they had mixed a couple of a EARNED runs, it'd be a different story. But, meh, coulda woulda whatever.

Prince Fielder and Miguel Cabrera went yard. Prince did so fatly and in a manner not unlike a beach ball. Cabrera also went deep, but since we know he hates fat people, it is safe to say that this was more in a manner akin to him just straight up teeing off on Nova. The whole thing was ridiculous. If you watch his swing, it's so effortless, like he's taking batting practice before his kid's little league all star game or something.

The Yanks kept it kind of close til the 5th. And just sort of seemed to get away from them. Like that line in "The Sun Also Rises" when Bill asks Mike how he went bankrupt and he answers, "Two ways: Gradually. And then suddenly."

That's how the Yankees lost.

Also, because they struck out a lot.

In the 5th and 6th, the neat little tied up game blew up, like a spot that Mrs. Lochte had a go out. (See how I tied that all together?)

Nova was NOT dealing, and fortunately for me I've been so sick as of late that I didn't even have the presence of mind to rerack my fantasy team, and hence the bajillion run blowout at the hands of one of the good guys, did not factor into my head-to-head match up against Lunch is For Pussies. (I'd ask where the hell people come up with these names, but as the master mind behind 1/CYCp3col2para9, I don't think I'm in a position to talk.)

Outside of the bombs from their bombsquad, the Tiggers did a nice job of manufacturing runs. (What, they did.) A-Jax, Infante, Avila, Dirks, and Peralta all chipped in some ribbies, and I know everyone is all hot on how good Texas is, but for my money, Detroit is the best team outside of the Yankees.

Yu Darvish (remember him? That Japan guy that everyone is soooo scared of?) gave up 7 doubles in Fenway last night. I told you that kid was nothing to be scared of. He is just another gyroballing import in disguise.

Detroit, on the other hand, is one of those terrifying, WHAT WE GOT NOTHING TO LOSE WE GOT NO FEAR THERE'S NO MERCY IN THIS DOJO kind of team. Not exactly the polished, "we are good." mentality of which the Rangers are hanging on the coattails.

Whatever, the Yankees are the best team in baseball, of course. One game doesn't change that, and we all thought so before the ASG, and then we lost a handful of games, and all of a sudden we lose faith in our boys? Nah. Not how it works.

Since we've already dipped into the Hemmingway pool of a magic once this post, may as well go for another:

Good Ol' Santiago!


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