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

Now it's almost bordering on farcical. MAYBE even a little bit fascinating. The Yankees have not won a single game all season when they are trailing in the 8th. It's funny because I remember when they were losing by 29 runs or something, against the Socks during the centennial weekend at Fenway. And they had a big comeback and it was SUPER exciting.

And then that was the end of the dramatic wins.

Seriously, what were the other times this season that jump to mind when we think of those exhilirating reminders-about-why-we-love-baseball types of games?

2009 was fairy tale season, that doesn't happen in real life. But even outside of that year, I am never ever at a shortage of memories when it comes to recalling the season's highlights. The Yankees are hanging around the top of the division, but the only highlight I can think of is the 9-run comeback against the Socks?

To be clear, it's important for a playoff-contending team to know how to score runs when their backs are against the walls. It's more than a little convenient--nay! necessary--for a team to pool their nerves and determination and prevail when hope seems lost.

The Yankees should be playing like Lassie. Instead they're playing like Garfield.

Yankees.

Present company excluded, cats are known for their attitude of "Maybe I respond to being called, maybe I don't. I'll address you when I feel like it. I don't know when that will be, but you'll know it when it happens." The Orioles are playing like the fearless collie who always manages to find a way to save the day. The Yankees are playing like they'd rather be eating lasagna.

Orioles/Tampa.

(Ahhh, see the blog post title makes sense now!)

Oh, so the Yankees lost to the Devil Rays today. Everyone thought they were going to win. It had all the markings of a brilliant evening in the Bronx. The Yankees don't screw up games like that very often, you know. I mean, not saying that they never blow games obviously. I'm just saying that they're pretty good at living up to hometown mystique billings.(Thank you for that.)

But tonight...no. Man, I feel bad for those in attendance. They watched the Yankees immediately take the lead, because that's how the Yankees roll.

Pearce singles in R-Mart. I'm sorry, but I'm still very confused about what the hell this guy is doing on the team, let alone in pivotal spots during pivotal games. He's not BAD, per se. But he's...who? Who is this guy and why is he here? Nice ribbie, btw.

Three innings later, the Rays respond, scoring 3 off the bats of Longoria, Jennings, and Elliot Johnson.

(I don't know why, but I get a kick out of serial lists of people that include one first-last name.There aren't a whole lot of greater indications of revelance than this. It's like getting on a call with the client, and having the account person be like, "Hey, so I'm here in the room with Jim, Amy, Ellen, and Kris Pollina." I don't know why, but it makes me feel like I'm 20 years old and hanging out with a bunch of 21+ year olds, and we can't get into any bars because of me.)

Could I digress any more? Yeah, probably.

Grandy hit a sick shot that bounced off the glove of Francisco in RF. Embarrassing, sort of, but not really since the Rays ended up winning, so no harm no foul I guess.

Alright, we got ourselves a game! However, at no point in the game did I think, "Hey, it looks like the Yankees have decided that RISP is something to take advantage of after all!" They were keeping the game close, but not because they were figuring shit out and rallying. I have no idea how they're doing it, actually. But when you're 1-6 with RISP for the game, I don't think I'm going out on a huge limb by saying that they aren't doing things efficiently.

Acutally, they are sort of acting like me when I got out of college and I patently refused to work at my Mom's company. I had interned there, but I felt like getting a job because of your parents was cheating or something. That's how the Yankees are treating RISP. As if they've been conditioned to believe that the only acceptable way to score runs is by doing it yourself.

Upton and Zobrist were Upton and Zobrist like. I don't know if this needs expounding upon beyond the fact they put the game at 5-2.

Arod put the game at 5-4 and passed Gehrig for 9th place on the runs list. But no one cares, because it's Arod, whose superior talent is something that people inexplicably refuse to buy into. Jeter, though, Jeter is something else. He passed Mays on the hit list! With an injured ankle! IS THERE ANYTHING THIS SUPERHUMAN CANNOT DO? NO.

Hey, you know who pitched well tonight? Joba. Again. Excellent showing. Not as excellent showing on ZPack3's end, whose error cost the Yanks a run.

Speaking of errors, let's devote some time discussing the Drunk Girl at Office Party play of the game. Which is the moment of game that is so horrendous, awkward, painful, funny, and sad all at once. You're mad because she's making you uncomfortable, but amused because it's entertaining. And you can't look away but you try to.

Anyone who watched the game knows what I'm talking about.

Pearce. Round Boy. Grounder to first. Tubbo larded all over Pearce. The play was not made. Pearce learned an important lesson about running with the bulls.

Alright, in Fatso's defense, he was cruising through more than half of the game (that's a little advertising trick. It was actually 5 innings which is more than half technically). He got the loss, and all the REH REH REH ALARMS blaring that goes with it. 4 loss in a row! For our ace!

I like CC. (I just said CC. Wow.)

Price pitched slightly better than our big guy, so he gets the win. Rodney pitched only slightly better than Joba, so he gets the save. Eppley pitched slightly better than Peralta, but Eppley is the weirdo drip who's resolutely linked to a popular chick. Like their parents were best friends in college or something.

So the popular but nice chick takes Eppley under her wing, and he's socially awkward and brings nothing to the table, and everyone keeps asking the popular girl, "Do you have to invite Eppley out tonight? I mean, there's gonna be boys/batters there. He's gonna ruin everything."

"No, no. He's cool, y'all! C'mon. He said he'd drive."

Eppley doesn't end up ruining everything but he has ruined things enough in the past that when the rest of the group ends up having an unproductive night where no guys hit on them, they automatically narrowed their eyes at Eppley.

So, yeah, that's what Eppley is. In short.

Rapada (Color Swatch) is Eppley's older brother.

Now the Yankees wait to see what place they are in. The Os play the As tomorrow. But that's a given. We all knew when the season started that come September, we'd be glued to the score updates of the Baltimore/Oakland game, on account of the outcome determining the Yankees division ranking. I mean, that much was obvious.

And by "obvious" I mean that given a choice between the odds of that happening and the odds of Jeter becoming the spokesperson endorsmer of Virginia Slims, I'd swiftly pick the latter.

(Jeter's got an edge!)

So there you have it. The Yanks fail to finish the job with the "rally" (if you can really call it that). They are the only team in the majors to not have a win when trailing in the 8th. (I hate stats like this though. They're also the only team in the majors that begins with a Y. Big deal.)

Alright, that's it for me. Long weekend ahead of me, (though not as noteworthy as my Dad's weekend, which is being spent in San Antonio for a pet cemetery owner's convention. Yeah.) I'm out like Swisher.

Ohh. Yeah, he's playing like garbage.

On a happy note, they're going to win the next 2 games. I've already seen them, they're showing reruns this weekend, and the Yankees take the next two. You can spend your Saturday watching the Army home opener instead.

(You're welcome.)