The Yankees are out of excuses. Not that there is really any place in sports for excuses ever, but if there were, then all of the excuses have been effectively voided.
After a panic inducing weekend with the ORIOLES, the Yankees headed to Tampa to try to reassure the world that, whatever, no big, they're fine. Just a little rusty lately, but one blow out game or dazzling pitching performance should put the universe back into the correct order.
Unfortunately, Z-Pack sort of broke contract when he muted the rally in the 9th by grounding out. I don't really remember that as much as I remember Grandy striking out to end the game. Those game-ending K's are so uncomfortably brutal and depressing. Especially, ESPECIALLY, in SPADES, when it's an away game. But you got a symphony of cheers punching you in the gut, and then there's the fury of watching another team do the Yankees' signature move of standing after 2 strikes thing. And then the inimitable deflation of the ball game being over.
I'm getting ahead of myself though. Not that this is going to end well, of course. But Ima plow ahead.
Unless, of course, you're one of those people who are sitting pretty right now, blowing on your newly manicured nails, smugly musing to yourself, "Like the old saying goes, the less you win towards the end of the season, the better shape you're in." Or unless you're subscribing to the philosophical school of thought that contrary to conventional wisdom, no one really HAS to win a game to really WIN a game. Which means the Yankees are in a satisfactory position right now.
As you know, I am really not one to aggressively question managerial decisions (most of the time) because, like parents, they know more than us. Always. As a rule.
HOWEVAH, that said, I don't get why Girardi took out Dickerson this weekend after he was playing like Roy Hobbes. I don't get why A-Rod is back in the clean-up spot in his maiden voyage. Or in any voyage, really. He's a base hitter for God's sake.
But alas, what are our options?
(Stan, in My Cousin Vinnny: "My alternatives? To what? You? I don't know. Death. Suicide." That was a funny scene!)
In all things it is better to hope than to despair. Come on, Yankees. Don't do this.
The summer just ended, and maybe it's time you ended this bullshit, as well.
Populus non notat si est hieme nec estate quando sunt felices.