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

Loss.

Well, Tubbo.com was dealing like the Tubbo.com v2009. Which was awesome. I have to say, though, I severely miss watching him wipe sweat off his hands on his X (x 10⁹)L jersey. I miss Fatso's fat(so). 

Lester pitched really well, sadly, and doubly sadly because I look at the kind of Red Sock he's become, and it's like a Lifetime movie plot about a guy who just goes down the wrong path and he thinks he's got it allll under control but everyone is noticing something's amiss.

I don't remember the original Lester version having such a hair-trigger temper. This guy was like a Lester/Papelbon freak/Lackey.

Argh. So, the two much hyped aces battle it out, and it looked like a quiet iteration of your standard Yankee-Boston fare. Pitcher's duel, which I love but yet also hate because once the whole thrill of an exciting game wears off, I'm left with the stark realization that my team barely eeked out AH run. Let alone many runs to necessiate an entire rack.

Then A-So hits a homerun, and don't get me wrong, I like anyone who takes a Boston pitcher deep (pause?) but I weirdly have some inexplicable residual disgruntled-ness over his early refusal to get on base. I'm turning into my parents, I swear.

Who never seem to age at all, who still look 30 years younger than they are, but what they preserved in youthful appearance the make up for in lost interest in supporting data. ("Well, I saw Cathy doing her laundry today, and I think she's in over her head." "Like...in life or in laundry?" "Um...both. Life, mostly. And laundry.")

I digress, of course, A-So hits a great shot and it's a nice 1-0 game for a little bit until Jonny Gomes goes deep to tie it up, and Round Boy was mad at himself.

He even cursed into his glove between innings, which was a notable step above the stations muting "F%&!" but not blurring out the very defined slow motion mouth gyrations.

Thank you for being considerate even in your hour of frustration, Big Guy.

Lester wasn't as classy. But he was better. Very similar outings from the 2 starters, the stats were nearly identical except an impressive 9Ks for Lard, vs 6 for Lester. Oh, yeah. And there was a homerun discrepancies. 2 vs 1. This is why stats are useless, yeah?

Because that 9Ks make our boy look like a stud, but the only number worth reading in the line score is the HR box. Because that second one to Sizemore broke us.

3-run bomb. 4-1. Yanks started to answer with a mini-rally (a "baby mouse bite" rally, as my youngest sister would say). Kelly Johnson looked terrified batting with 2 outs and 2 men on. Like, big time terrified, a la that scene in "Rookie of the Year" when the kid is batting for the first time ever.

The Socks make it out of the game without further incident, and SPEAKING of no incidents, I'd like to go on record saying that I think Girardi is acting like a weirdo.

When Tubbo was clearly laboring big time in the 6th inning (and starting to show signs in the 5th, I think), Girardi watched. And watched, and watched. Until the no-spring-chicken pitcher went a good amount beyond the 100 mark.

WHY? Because you're trying to preserve your money bullpen? Who the hell are Cabral, Warren, and Betances that you can't take out your work horse?

The relievers did well, but the damage had already been done. Girardi also had Yangervis throwing down a bunt to lead off, a guy whose batting average looks more like an SAT score.

Sneach is mysteriously in and out of the lineup, even though you should always put him in, ALWAYS, if for no other reason than to facilitate the inevitable moment when Sneach reveals he's not human, by rounding the bases without ever touching the dirt.

GGBG is the pinch hitter with 2 outs in the 9th.

And Brian Roberts, who's batting an anemic .150 or something, remains in play. He is aggressively mediocre.

But apparently so is the rest of the league. As my dad said, "I saw the Yankees were in first..."

Me: "YEAH! Cool, right??"

Dad: "Well, I think everyone's in first, though."

He's right, as usual.

Now let's hope that Girardi snaps out of whatever bizarro delirium he's in. He's managing his team like he's a substitute teacher or something.

(It should be noted that what I know about managing a professional baseball team is based on a resume that boasts approximately zero percent experience in this field. I usually give the dude the benefit of the doubt for this very reason, but I'm now going based on his glassy, vacant stare.)

In fairness, I probably wouldn't like it very much if Girardi started saying shit like "Oh c'MON, Kris! Jesus, what's wrong with this girl? Everyone knows that you gotta make the headline big and you gotta make it red if anyone's gonna pay attention to it! These are poor copywriting decisions that I feel comfortable enough to unequivocally criticize."

Lackey faces off against Kuroda on Saturday, and I'm really looking forward to watching the game on the couch and passing out in the 2nd or 3rd inning and waking up an inning and a half later, with drool dried on my cheek and the afternoon sun coming in the window, and seeing the Yankees have taken a 7-run lead.