As awesome as it would be for one of our players to get injured because you morons don't understand how to work a latch, could you please make sure there are no functioning trap doors on the field of play?
Sweep up, I been sweeping up the tips I've made, I'm living on Gatorade, Planning my getaway, Detroit, Detroit.
Thanks, Paul Simon! In five lines, you managed to take us from Boston to Detroit. I guess there was another song in my library that talks about sweeping. I have absolutely no idea what that song means, or who the fuck "Papa Hobo" is supposed to be, but that pretty much nailed it.
I was at Yankee Stadium in for Game 2 of the 2006 ALDS, the game in that series that Verlander started. It took place on a Thursday afternoon, but was supposed to have been played the night before. I got there pretty early that Wednesday, because it was the first Yankees playoff game I'd ever been to. Verlander had been throwing right alongside my seat down the third baseline, and I was close enough to hear him ask whoever he was tossing the ball with "Why the fuck no Yankees were on the field". Although it wasn't raining, the Yanks waited until gametime to announce that the game was delayed, even though it was pretty obvious the decision had already been made. Apparently they didn't give the Tigers a heads up either.
I was alone, which kind of sucked, but I grabbed a few beers and a shitty poncho and hung out in my seat, just taking in the strange atmosphere. When nine o'clock rolled around, even though it had stopped raining, they called the game. Everyone was puzzled, but more so pissed that they had wasted their whole night. (It started torrentiallydownpouring about 45 minutes later)
I came back on Thursday, but the Stadium was at maybe 75% capacity. The emptiness and fact that it was a day game sort of robbed the playoff atmosphere. I still have a vivid memory of the 8th inning when Curtis Granderson robbed Gary Sheffield on a scorched line drive and then Joel Zumaya struck out Giambi and A-Rod through the shadows, touching 103mph on the Yankee Stadium radar gun. The Yanks lost 3-4 that day, dropped the next two in Comerica and I didn't get the chance to use my Game 5 tickets.
Of course, Zumaya and Verlander (who was also breaking 100 on the gun that day) are nowhere near the dominant flamethrowers they were that year. It makes you wonder if, in the era that baseball is in now where steroid use is presumably declining, anyone can last throwing that kind of heat. I would tend to think not. Your move, Strasburg.
It's only one run. It didn't decide the game. I'm guessing it probably won't happen again. But that perfectly placed the poo cherry right on top of the shit sundae that was this series. If you look closely at the replays (or watch the end of the slideshow below), you'll see that he tripped about 10 feet from home plate, which actually helped him barely sneak under the tag. The expression on Andy Pettitte's face pretty much says it all:
It looks like he just watched someone kick his dog. Although, to complete the analogy, Pettitte would have been holding the leash when it happened.
The only thing that eases the pain is the fact that this weekend was absolutely beautiful this weekend here on the Eastern seaboard, and still is. Would you trade three Yankee wins for three straight days of 50 degrees and rain? I'll get back to you in September.
It's still April, and the Yanks are 9-9. They are heading to a pitcher's park and will have their ace on the hill tonight. I just hope this is the last sweep at the hands of the Sox this year, because this is (not surprisingly) the only song in my iTunes library that has anything to do with sweeping.
[Disclaimer: It's only a little over a minute long, but please be sure to remove all sharp objects from your reach, because this show is about three times more depressing than I intended it to be.]