Lose 1st, Win 2, Lost Last

After that upsetting loss in Game 1, I knew it would be difficult for my Yanks to pull off a series win. They were close..so close…but they, and I, will have to settle for a split.

Game 2 was a nice bounce-back win for the Yankees. CC Sabathia gave it his all and proved once again why I call him “C Cy.” My Hefty-Lefty allowed just 2 runs in 8 innings. The offense was clutch, with the 4 consecutive 2-out singles in the 5th inning by Swisher, Teixeira, Cano, and Posada. The Yanks went on to win it 5-2.

                           CC should win the Cy Young if he keeps this up.

Game 3 was the Yankees typical offensive explosion off Josh Beckett. And unlike the last time Beckett pitched, he only hit 1 Yankee batter: Robinson Cano. Last time, he angered me…but let’s not go there again. The Yankee offense pushed across 7 runs off Beckett. Lance Berkman finally found his stroke, going 3-4 with a run and an RBI. It was nice to see him start to hit. He was one of many Yankees who had a nice day at the dish.

But perhaps the most pleasantly surprising aspect of Game 3 was the starter, spot starter, Mr. Dustin Moseley. He wooed me in his first start, but didn’t pitch too well in his second start as a Yankee. This time, he was called upon on short notice to make the start for the injured A.J. Burnett. And this time, he shined. Oh, how he shined! In the field he made 3 exceptional plays, and he pitched pretty well, too. Moseley pitched 6.1 innings, and allowed just 2 runs. What a night for this little cutie! The Yankees went on to win this one 7-2.

                                               Moseley is a beeeeast ♥

That brings us to the finale. I was hoping that since the Yanks won 2 in a row, and since the offense wasn’t scuffling, that they would have a good day. And I hoped that Phil Hughes would be his Philthy old self. I was right about half of it, the pitching half. But as everyone knows, getting a 50 on a test isn’t going to cut it.

Hughes allowed 2 runs in the 2nd inning. Maybe Jorge Posada’s throwing error had something to do with it? Maybe. But that’s not why the Yankees lost. Like I said the other day, don’t blame things on one guy – this is a team effort! And the team couldn’t hit for their life today.

The Yankees had bases loaded with none out in the 7th, and FAILED to score a run. Talk about frustrating…

In the 8th, Mark Teixeira provided a spark of hope with his big fly off Daniel Bard, which made the score 2-1.

Jonathan Papelbon, who is #1 on my “If I could kick someone in the balls list,” came in for the 4 out save today. I figured, “Hey! This is good. The more opportunities the Yanks have against Papelbon, the better. He sucks.”

So in the 9th, Curtis Granderson leads off with a strikeout. Very productive…Then Jeter walks, and I begin to get a little excited. I wanted to see some pie today…but from there, it went downhill.

Nick Swisher struckout for the 2nd out, and then Tex….he put up such a tough at bat…but of course, it ended in a K. I somewhat expected this, but still – when I saw it happen, I exploded.

A little background info on what was going on in my living room during the 9th: My dog was eating his dinner in the living room and he tends to make a mess; dropping kibble from his flews, spewing water when he shakes and his drool goes flying, typical dog stuff. So we put a towel under his bowl so the customary mess would be easier to clean up. He was eating “Turducken,” which sounds gross, but actually smells quite tasty. My mother was also in the room, and I told her to get out because I thought she was a jinx (she listened). My older brother was watching the game with me.

Words cannot describe my hatred for you…

Okay, back to the game: the microsecond after Tex struckout, I lost it. I just went berserk. The throwing of my shoes at the TV is normal for me, and of course I did that. But that didn’t make me feel better: that intense hatred of losing, and that hatred for Papelbon, lingered on. In anger mode, I scanned the room for something else to violently thrust at the screen. Then I saw it: the towel. My dog finished eating, leaving a trail of Turducken embedded into the towel.

Papelbon was going his little fist pump, when SPLAT!

The Turducken-covered towel hit him square in the face, thanks to my powerful throw, and I screamed:

“HAVE SOME F****N’ TURDUCKEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Then, still enraged, I jumped off the couch, picked up the towel, and began whipping Papelbon’s stupid face through the TV.

For some reason, my brother found this funny. And he told me to write this here for the world to see. Why? Well, now that the game has been over for a little while, and my anger is slowly subsiding, I guess it is kind of funny. Kind of. He sure thought so. He’s still laughing at it.

So the Yankees lost the finale 2-1, and I clearly was not thrilled. Any time the Yankees can ruin Papelbon’s day, I’m happy. But that didn’t happen today. I really wanted to win this series, but you can’t win ’em all.

I’ll have to get over it. These random bursts of animosity really are not healthy.

Although they are kind of funny.