2 hours ago
- A project manager/traffic coordinator is about to come over to my desk to "see how that manuscript is coming along"
- A girl is about to have a wildly graceless drunk/heels-induced slip/fall at Dorrian's
- My dad is about to say, well, anything. We share a mind*
- Someone's about to sing/play a wrong note
- The cat is about to go from auditioning for a role as a stuffed animal, to doing suicide sprints back and forth in the apartment
- AND I know when the panic button is about to be irrationally slammed for some partitioned out picadillo in the Yankees' clubhouse
Oh my God, can't you hear it already? Vom dot com.
"The Yankees have been lucky so far this season, getting production out of players that are arguably past their prime. But how long can they expect to rely on offense from this line up? Without a young backbone, the argument can be made that the Yankees are arguably playing with a potential fire, one might argue."
No. No no no. This was a good game, except for the losing part. If for nothing else, the weirdness that is Eduardo Nunez is really quite disarming. He's like another Sneach, sort of. To take a line from the Girl Bathroom Banter Playbook: "I have NO idea what the hell this guy's deal is."
Last year, he was like a stock character in a Disney movie who always bungled, always tripped, made mistakes. Like Chunk in the Goonies.
This year, he's made 2 errors (allegedly. I could have SWORN he had a third one in like game 3 of the season).
Last year, he had 7 errors.
In 2011, he had 20.
GAH! I hate things that have no rhyme or reason. Give me iambic pentameter and tautologies any day of the week and twice on Sunday.
Eduardo Nunez is confusing. To say (next to) nothing of the fact he sort of resembles a Dominican version of Nicholas Cage.
|Last year I thought he looked more like a villainous frog from the Care Bears.|
Moving up in the world, if "the world" means my head of endless comparators.
And the error actually gets attributed to Bosh [sic], who looked like That Girl that gets put in right field for softball games.
The one hit of the game that inevitably heads her way is a homerun.
Because she will not catch it (if she could, she'd be playing a different position), and the ball will go beyond her (because scientifically, our depth perception is significantly inferior and we'll misjudge the ball to be closer than it is), and she'll chase it, and try to relay the ball back in from Pittsburgh, or wherever it's ultimately rolled off to, and by that time not only has everyone cleared the bases, but they've also updated their facebook statuses, checked their voicemail solely to get rid of the VM icon on their cells, and established democracy in a third world country.
Yeah, YOU, BOSH [sic].
2 runs scored. The Yankees lost 3-0, and none of those runs from the error are looming large etc, because it doesn't matter how many scored on how many errors, if you can't even put 1 run of your own on the board.
That needed to be said, to be sure. Not as an attack on the offense, but in defense of the defense.
SPEAKING OF defense...this.
Dayummmm. Jeter who. (Or I guess "Derek who?")
So this Alex Cobb guy really got the best of the Yanks. 106 pitches in over 8 innings. 7Ks. 2 hits. His full name also spells"Bed Bacon Relax" when you mix the letters up.
Although a full decade and a half his senior, Andy was no slouch, ether. 10Ks, only 3runs. At 40 years old.
(He's one of the best CURRENT pitchers, not just all time, stifling young bat after young bat. At 40 years old. Which is not old, but which is impressive considering I'm 8 years younger and get winded moving wet clothes from the washing machine into the dryer.)
Alright, yeah they lost, but it wasn't a bad game. It doesn't warrant concern or qusstions or examinations or analysis. They didn't beat the Rays. They lost because the Rays scored more runs. But they're coming home! Mercifully, especially the Yanks themselves since I don't think they like the Trop. Understandably.
I also have just about had it with these inane circus antics that Maddon's desperately trying to pawn off as a calculated psychological strategic move. First there was a magician. Then a cockatoo. And now:
Maddon concluded his homestand-long effort to keep his team loose Wednesday by having a pair of penguins, Cliff and Shelly, in the clubhouse before batting practice.
"It's a continuation of our attempt to get our players to chill out a bit," Maddon said.
Christ. Shut up, Maddon.
Same goes for any "argument can be made"-ers who make arguments challenging the Yankees' record, claiming it belies "greater issues."
No. We're 2.5 games from 1st. I'm into this team. A lot. And back home they go!
Si audier ungulis, equorum cogitare.
*I'd be remiss in not mentioning the time in early 2008, when I went home to watch the Green Bay/Gmen playoff game with my dad. Then I thought of something that happened 20 years prior--a memory that was 100% triggered by nothing. A moment that I don't think anyone else even was cognizant of at the time. And I said, "Oh my God, you know what I just thought of out of nowhere. This is completely random." And my Dad replies, "YES. That time after the softball game when the girl jumped out of the car in front of us and grabbed the chicken wire from the side of the street." Yes.