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

...the Yankees go up!

The October night comes down; returning as before
Except for a slight sensation of being ill at ease
I mount the stairs and turn the handle of the door
And feel as if I had mounted on my hands and knees. -TS Eliot

That's SORT of how I felt going into this series. Another way of thinking about it would be to say that I sort of felt like this:



But that game was what we needed after spending the last week in a constant purgatory of 1-run games.

So after the Yankees beat the Red Socks 10-2, mercifully arriving at a 9-0 lead in the 2nd inning to spare us all the agony of marinating of 9 innings of suspense, I felt less like a hungry Disney sociopath, and more like this.

I mean, like Jack Dawson, we're not out of the weeds just yet.

But at least there isn't an ax sticking out of our wrists. And blood and broken bones. Alright, you get the idea.

The Yankees hit about 309 homeruns, and it was so preposterous that I actually start cursing at my phone (which is complete POS, by the way). I probably say "I hate this f&#!ing phone more than I say ______. (I'm coming back to that analogy at a later date, because for some reason, I cannot think of a single thing I say to such excess that it would demonstrate how much I rain expletives down upon my cell phone.)

Anyways, I assume my phone is going insane as usual when I see the score go from 1-0 to 7-0. Then I realize that I probably am just blaming my phone as a way of projecting, because what I'm really angry at is my eyesight that is just as useless as my phone, really.

What an idiot, Kris! You thought a 7 was a 1 or a 1 was a 7!...Wait, so is it a 1 or a 7?

A 7. It was a 7.

And a zero for the bad guys.

The Red Socks couldn't hit water if they fell off a boat. (Another boat reference! I feel so coherent!) Mostly they were having a tough time getting on base because Fatso was just worth his weight in gold tonight. Which would mean he was worth the absolute value of the National Debt. Which also means he whiffed 7 in 8 innings, giving up 2 runs on 4 hits and being just so lovely in his lard.

Sweaty Freddy managed to not to do this.

And the Orioles managed to not win.

Annnd then there was the offense:

Grandy homered. Cano homered (and went 3 for 5 in the clean up spot with 2 doubles). R-Mart homered (and yesterday said that it's important to focus on winning. Seriously. All this time, I've been so misinformed..) Tex homered (because like I've said before, the Yankees' "DL list" is like code for some weird cyrogenic spa or something).

My mom called to see what train I was taking home, and both of us are pretty much deaf for all intents and purposes (or "intensive purposes" as I've spent most of my life believing it to be). So I think she's asking about the Yankee score, and I'm telling her that it's unbelievable but I don't want to jinx anything, etc.

Eventually I arrive at "Oh. Um, 8:30." And then I say, it looks like the Yankees have things under control!

And then, I saw, Nava hit a homerun and I almost jumped off the train. Then innings go by without another run from the Yankees and I'm about to cry. I jinxed the Yankees. They're going to lose this game after having a 9-run lead because I told my mom that they had things under control. I ruined life.

But they won, so I dodged that bullet. I did learn an important lesson about testing the baseball gods so close to playofff time. The lesson is, don't do it.

You know what part of the game gave me chills though? Like, in a good way. In a way that makes us all remember why we like baseball, in a way that a walk-off win can't do. When our little rookie Melky "Not Cabrera" Mesa got his first major league RBI.

And I loved it because he acted like you're supposed to act when you get your first big league RBI! I fist pump if I so much as finish a crossword puzzle or correctly answer a tourist's query for directions. So when I see a kid smile like that and be so discernibly giddy, it makes me happy.

Also, my barometer for happy shifts when then Yankees are up by 8 runs in the 9th inning. I felt similar disproportionate excitement when Ohyob described an upstate courthouse, when I realized I still hadn't watched the "Revenge" season premiere yet, and when I saw sunglasses on the kitchen table.

A Yankee win will do that. So congratulations Melky of the "Not Cabrera" persuasion! Great hit and even greater reaction to said hits. I hope to see more of both.

So, it's easy to relax a little when your team stakes everyone (not just their pitcher, but EVERYONE on their side) to a 9-0 lead in the SECOND INNING. That's what's important here. We didn't have to suffer through 9 innings, so this makes us less violently-exhaling-in-aggressive-relief. But just because there wasn't a huge build up/climax (yeah yeah pause, that's what she said, et al), doesn't mean the game deserves any less cinematic applause.

The Yankees played the way we needed them to. I also say that you should only score enough runs to win. Don't play 100%, just play enough percent.

But not when this situation is what it is. Right now, they should save anything for the swim back.

2 more like that, Yankees. Don't look back, they're always gaining on you.

The rivalry may be a faded memory against this pennant race backdrop, but don't forget with whom you're dealing. They deserve no mercy. They're Boston. And they're the enemy.

You've taken the field. Now take their spirits. And take the division, too.

Pugnare dura. Pugnare cum omnibus viribus tuis. Omnibus.

PS, it's too bad Boston reliever Beato didn't shit the bed, because that would make any easy night of work for the Post's headline writer.