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Good God, I'm exhausted. Beyond tired. I felt like my life mirrored the 20-inning Mets game today. (Which is to blame for the supreme lateness of this recap. That and beer.)

Me, Laur, Keith, and Krista went to the game, Yankee Game Trip the Sequel. I was a liitttle worried this year would never live up to the inane debacle that was last year's trip. It turned out my fears were wildly unfounded.

Everyone I hang out with is nuts, basically.

In terms of the game:

We got good AJ! Really, really good AJ. 7 shutout innings. Barely any nibbles of hits for most of the game. He was almost untouchable. Well, there were 8 hits, but psh who cares. Before Nelson Cruz homered with 2 men on, he was mowing em down. Equally as impressive his unreal control. If he didn't still have the endearingly touch guy swagger, I'd think it was a totally different pitcher.

Tex got a hit! Bringing his average to a nice even .100. He also struck out, flied out, etc etc. We'll take what we can get. He got a little ribbie to boot. It was nice to see him bring a run in when there were bases loaded as opposed to grounding into double play. To be sure, Tex can strike out for the next 3 weeks for all I care. This is what he does. He's earned quite a bit of latitude.

Also, Tex's 1 for 4 on the day was somehow the ONLY hit for one of my fantasy teams. Seriously. I was batting .426 going into today, and then every single guy on the team threw up goose eggs except for Tex. Thanks, buddy.

On a side note, it's f'n bizarre seeing Vlad not in an Angels' uniform. Just as it's f'n bizarre seeing Vlad not swing at pitches and retain some patience at the plate. What the hell has Texas' hitting coach done to him??

Jeter and A-Rod homered (A-Rod's first of the year which put him past Big Mac on the HR list). If Jeter goes yard again within the next 3 games, I guarantee he's going to find himself in a sea of uneducated, bitter, hater accusations of steroids. He went 3 for 4 today, and is batting .380 SO FAR. .380. I know it's early, but that's just absurd.

At one point during the game, my sister points up to the part of the stadium displaying the lineup and their BAs. "Look at that. Look at those numbers. Well, don't look at Tex's. But seriously. That's just crazy." Posada, Cano, and Granderson are all batting well over .300. The entire team's OBP is staggeringly over .350 and sometimes over .400.

To that point, these first 11 games have been the best start the Yanks have seen since 1926. Four series wins. Against not so easy teams. They kind of blitzed the Yanks in terms of scheduling. Sux, Anaheim, Tampa right off? Ouch.

Joba came in and, like everyone else on the Yankees, did his job and did it well. I'm a huge proponent of knowing your role. No one does it better than Nick Johnson, whose requisite walk brought in a run.

I always get a kick out of random batters that have these ridiculous walk rates. Like Nick Swisher. It's not like anyone's pitching around them. And God knows no one wants to put Johnson on base when Tex and A-Rod are cushioning him. It's kind of like how I never really got why Craig Biggio was always used as target practice for pitchers.

(Btw, this year Prince Fielder is currently leading the league in HBPs, which suggests that pitchers have officially given up on trying to find the miniscule area of the strike zone which isn't filled with Fielder's gut.)

In terms of my stadium experience:

I don't know if I'm ready yet to look at my camera. I will say that me and Laur definitely went ahead and put up one of those "Yankee Stadium Welcomes..." jumbotron messages. We were so excited about it and about surprising Keith and Krista. And then all of a sudden we look up at the jumbotron between the bottom of the 2nd and top of the 3rd, and we see it flash by. Totally caught off guard and not at all prepared for it, hence no picture. Keith's reaction: "What the f&%^ was that?"

That right there handed me the single most hysterical moment of my life. I don't know why, but I am not kidding when I say I have never laughed that hard in my life. Ever. And you know how people say, "I laughed so hard, my cheeks hurt" or "tears were rolling down my face"? Neither of those things happened. But my chest hurt. A lot. So much so that I had to mind-over-matter myself into not laughing at more. It was kind of cool. I broke some new kind of laughter barrier in my life. Laughing myself into cardiac arrest. I was a little proud of myself.

I'll put up pics tomorrow after my softball games. If you picture of a roll of toilet paper that accidentally fell into the toilet, then that's what my head feels like. I'm hitting the sack and maybe tomorrow I'll be brave enough to revisit my camera and notepad of game notes...


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