You know that weird feeling when you get very drunk, go to bed, wake up hung over, go about your day, and then the next night when you're sober you go into the bedroom and it feels like you never slept there the night before? Like you've been on vacation, or something?
Well let me tell ya: I'm gonna misremember the fuck out of my bed tonight. (In other words, please forgive me if this particular post isn't everything you dreamed.)
I'm not one of those folks who gets all braggy about being drunk. In fact, I don't really get too gonzo anymore. I'm old, and I like to fake responsibility. But last night a few events conspired. First, it's fall break at school, meaning that I just finished a bunch of papers and quizzes and et cetera and the J-Gang (sweet nickname for J-School students that only I use...for now) was out in force. Second, the Yanks jumped out to an early lead. Third, the girlfriend was going to be at work until 11. Around 4:30 or so, I fully acquiesced to the drinking impulse. The timing was right, and I knew that if Texas came back and ended our season at Yankee Stadium, I'd want to be twelve nautical miles past sobriety.
Here's what I remember:
1. I somehow missed like every Robbie Cano at-bat. For the home run, I had to go fetch a forgotten hat from campus. Later, it was just bad luck; looking away at the wrong time, getting involved in a conversation, things like that. Long story short, he's still awesome.
2. CC was pretty scary in the early going. But unlike last time, he kept his shit together and gave us a quintessential CC start: not dominating, necessarily, but seeming to get better with every inning and letting the offense do its work. Just another win for the Big Bear. And we got to see some awesome 'CC's pumped!' moments, like when he got Moreland on the sick curve.
3. Lance Berkman looked like he got hurt bad on that wipeout. My friend Josh told me they kept giving him smelling salts in the dugout, which I see from the ESPN story is true. I also enjoyed this quote:
"I hurt pretty much the entire back side from the top of the head to the rear-end area," Berkman said.
What a gamer. Concussed, ass hurting, 40 years old, and the dude calls for the salts and keeps chugging. On a side note, is it possible to have a bigger swing in fielding ability than going from Mark Teixeira to a concussed Lance Berkman?
4. There was on play in the second inning where Texas made about 4 throwing errors in a Three Stooges type routine. My pal Nick compared them to the American little leaguers getting totally rattled by Chinese Taipei in the championship game. Somehow Posada managed to motor around the bases and score. Jeter likened him to Rickey Henderson. ESPN called him a 'snail-like' runner.
5. Kerry Wood is apparently a pick-off master.
6. Grandy hit a homer, Mo closed it out. Brilliant.
CJ Wilson looked much more hittable than in Game One, which was great to see. Hopefully Colby Lewis follows suit on Friday. A few people have ragged me about thinking the series was over yesterday, and rightly so. Things look slightly- just slightly, mind you- better. Cliff Lee isn't looming any less, though. He's still there, stroking his goatee and laughing all sinister. And I still think Game Four will be our big regret when all is said and done. But it's good to see the series move back to Texas, at least. Make 'em earn it.
By the way: from a purely wins-and-losses perspective, the injury to Teixeira helps the Yankees. Has to be said. Berkman or Thames or whoever plays first will have a better shot to get a base hit than he had. Tex and the playoffs just don't mix. And Girardi obviously wasn't going to bench him. If the Yanks pull off a miracle in this series, we might look at the strained hamstring as a weird turning point. I hope he's okay, but I'm just saying. I'm just saying.
Speaking of nothing, what is it with Boston people? I met a guy at the bar last night who described himself as a "huge Red Sox fan." He went on to argue with me that Cliff Lee should start Game Six on short rest in Texas. "Anything can happen in Game Seven," he said for justification. He was dead wrong, obviously, but he had that unique Boston way of making every sentence drip with condescension, meanness, and arrogance. Eventually I had to put on my douche hat and be like "dude, 'anything can happen Game Seven' is a cliche. Cliches don't justify pitching your best guy on short rest when you only have one game to win." Then I felt stale for being a jerk. Boston, man. Brings out the worst in you.
Hmmm, I see that the Giants won. They're now 3-1 and a Lincecum home win away from the dance.
Hmmm, I see that this is the worst blog post ever. That'll happen when your brain cells are fighting a land war with alcohol. 'We ain't got time for blog thoughts, dude! You brought this on yourself.' And it's now 10am, so I should post. Maybe I'll get my life together and post something better this afternoon since I have the day off. My apologies to you and your family. First ever Pick Six champion announced tomorrow!
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