by
Chyll Will |
September 17, 2018 4:53 pm |
14 Comments
Are we watching a James Cameron blockbuster in the making or something? Or is he producing and Michael Ray Richardson is directing?
The Yanks have been playing like horseshit freshly baked meadow muffins for much of the second half of the season (they are playing tag with the Mutts for Most Mediocre Record to date), which has caused all kinds of ennui among the rational fans, while the real fans are all-like, “we’re GOING to the playoffs, modammit!”, to which one has to wonder as to what they intend to do there. Rodeo clowns are forbidden from entering the field of play, after all. For all that matter, you might as well see the grounds crew in the lineup the rest of the regular season while the regular suspects perform “Y-M-C-A” during the seventh. At least when you’re drunk out of your mind trying to erase the past couple of months from your memory, you’ll find that dynamic to be a keeper.
My no-fault prediction (aka wild guess) is that Yanks will lose the home field for the wild card, come close to falling out of the playoffs before turning on the boosters to save face and win the one-off, but then fall back and get swept by whomever they face in the divisional series. Then the real fun will begin. I almost think this has to happen in order for the organization to wake up from the nagging sense of complacency that seems to have befallen them recently. Bad baseball has bum-rushed the Stadium and the team plane. You know bad baseball when you see it, so don’t kid yourself. Just hope that the Hail Mary that is Aaron Judge returning to active duty before he’s actually finished healing lands in good hands. Other than that, everything else I speculated could be bullshit pons de la rue (a la mode).