Remember how we figured that last night was the worst loss of the year? Well, we were wrong. Tonight was worse.
The Yanks had an 8-3 going into the 7th and then the bullpen shit the bed, walls, and carpet as they gave up 9 runs over the next two innings. Hughes, Boone, Preston, and Jobber, oh my.
The burly bastards from Boston kicked the Yanks square in the nuts. Repeatedly. Yup, it was an old fashioned Bronx mugging.
12-8 was the final.
As one Banterite succinctly put it: Fuck this.
Another stinging loss. Anger and despair. But there’s no giving up round here. Tomorrow gives another game, after all.
We’ll be here and we’ll be rooting. Fuggin’ A right we’ll be.
The season is lost. In the most brutal way possible. Can the Yankees at least throw the fans a bone and dump Joba and bury Hughes, never to be see again?
I honestly don't know how you don't DFA Joba tonight. Joe has shown that he's not gonna stop using him in winnable games. At some point you need to take the scissors away from the child.
The good news is Joe thought the team bounced back well tonight. I swear to Christ he said that.
I can't even imagine what a poor rebound would have looked like. Maybe someone would have caught fire or something.
Worst losses of the year doesn't even cover it. Most Undignified Losses Since October 2004 is more like it.
When Mo's in on it, and Ichiro! misses a catchable grand slam at the right field porch, we're going down in a most undignified manner. Victimized in the kind of way that you can't call the cops, or even your parents..
1) Dude, the 2013 Yankees are not about Hughes and Joba. They're bit players in this psychodrama. Get past those characters, and you'll see the real tragedy here.
[3] Yup. Waiting for you to explain more.
[2] Do you mean actually caught fire, like in the Bronx is burning, fire? Still wondering what Ichiro was doing as the ball flew over his head. And the pitch! Bad location on a 3-2 with the bases loaded. Walk in the run, you idiot, but don't throw it over the plate.
Who were the battery at the end of the game? And what does Joey G have up his butt that makes him jump at the camera after uttering some nonsensical baseball euphemism.
Giving up? Should have given up a long time ago and rebuilt.
Bottom of the ninth. No one around for the end of the game. Robbie's last swing?
Please let's not rant too much. See if they get a win today with no bullpen. Big games in September. Fall in the air. What more could we want?
5) Here, here. At least the Rays lost. Any loss right now is a drag but that they've come against Boston, dramatically, that's just window dressing.
Yanks play today, they win today. Or at least, we root for them today. And it's a gorgeous late summer-early autumn day. Carpe fuggin Diem.
Gorgeous day, indeed. Just got back from a long walk with the dog, and a Neil Young mix I recently put together from his overlooked '89-'92 period (Freedom, Ragged Glory, Harvest Moon).
I'll be rooting like hell til the end, but I can't get past the thought that the end is closing in on the Jeter, Mo, Pettitte era.
One of the great Simon & Garfunkel tunes from "The Graduate" comes to mind, "April Come She Will" which ends, "September, I remember a love once new has now grown old."
Love that scene where Hoffman is cleaning leaves out of the pool.
7) Christ, you melancholy bastard, you're going to make me tear up. Beautiful records.
I spent all day Friday trying to recover from Thursday night, then I had to record Friday night's game. As I sat supervising my daughter's pool party, waiting to watch the recording, I finally gave in and checked the score. Here's how that went:
Saw the score, 12-8: Fuck, that sucks. Pettitte must've been bombed.
Scrolled down to the line score: They were up 8-3 going to the seventh????
Scrolled down to pitching line: JOBA?????????
Just those twenty seconds scarred me. I can't imagine how you poor bastards are even up and walking around today, having watched the wreckage live. Bless you all.
And even though the Rays keep losing and the Yankees haven't lost ground, when I look at the standings all I can think is that they should be a half-game back in the wildcard. Instead, Baltimore and even Cleveland have crawled past. I certainly haven't given up, but I'm kind of glad my daughters are playing soccer and basketball all day today, so I won't be in front of the game. Best of luck to the Yankees, even more luck to the Banterites who will be watching.
8) Ha! Nah, man, I can snap out of the melancholia in a second. We just need to give these fucking Red Sox an old fashioned Bronx beating. Today, tomorrow, and the next time we meet, fuckers.
Those Neil records are, indeed, beautiful, but the tunes I plucked off Freedom are edgy, and played with controlled rage. The Harvest Moon tunes are so gorgeous they can bring you to tears.