Tag Archives: New York Yankees

The End of a Long National Nightmare

The look on A-Rods face almost makes up for how bad Beckett and Drew sucked this year.

Thank You, Texas.

Wow, I never thought I’d appreciate anything from Texas as much as I do the Rangers this morning.

In case you missed it, the Rangers finally put down the Yankees (like the ugly dog at the shelter who never gets adopted. (Note: I do not mean that the senseless killing of these animals is a good thing, like the Yankees losing, but just that they did it in a similar undeniable fashion.)) last night by finishing them off in game six of the ALCS. Along with being the first time the Rangers have punched a ticket to the World Series in their 49 year history (originally as the second team to bear the name Washington Senators), it frees us from one more week or, god forbid, an entire winter of endless Yankee talk. No A-Douche on Letterman, no talk of Joe Girardi changing his number again (he had 27 last season and after winning the title changed to 28, kind of like Rick Fox wearing number 17 after going to the Lakers because he had been so disappointed to never win Banner 17 for the C’s), no Sports Illustrated special edition commercials about the Yankees. It comes as a relief to us all.

To the Sox, and their fans, this means that we can finally focus on the offseason and plans for 2011. While the Globe and Herald have already run their lists of potential free agent targets and decisions that need to be made by the Sox (mention must be made of the terrific prognostication and reporting done by Gordon Edes in his ESPNBoston.com blog), the fans, such as myself, have been focused on supporting the Twins and Rangers in their hopes to prevent another title by those pinstriped assholes to the south.

In the coming weeks we will have plenty of time to preview what figures to (and had f#$%ing better) be a very busy Hot Stove season for Theo and Co, but for today let’s just enjoy all of the video of the Yanks walking off the field looking dejected and miserable and look forward to what is undoubtedly going to be an amazing matchup in game one of the World Series, Lee at Halladay or Lincecum.

Ridiculous.

Thanks Rangers. Go Sox.

Done.

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CC Sabathia is Fat.

An old favorite:

Go Sox.

Done.

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Javy Vazquez is My Homie.

That’s right. I love the guy.

Awesome

The Sox go into a weekend series needing to win three of four to stay afloat in the playoff race, and the Yanks are throwing Javier “Gave up the grand slam to Johnny Damon which officially killed the curse” Vazquez to start out against Buchholz. Could there be any situation better? Vazquez is 3-7 against the Sox lifetime and sucked so bad at one point this season that he almost got Joba’d back to the minors (or worse, to the NL).

As I said before, this is the best possible way to start the reacharound series, our most consistent guy against their crappiest. After last night’s domination by Dice-K, and the timely awesomeness of Adrian Beltre (my preseason pick for AL MVP), the momentum is with the Sox and if Earl Weaver was right when he said “Momentum is the next day’s starting pitcher” you gotta feel pretty good right now.

The apocalypse is upon us again and you can be sure that SMC and I will be hanging on every pitch.

Go Sox.

Done.

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Just F#$%ing Cheer Johnny Damon Already.

The main picture is The Man, in the corner is some douche from New York.

Four years ago, Johnny Damon left us. Our long haired, bearded centerfielder had been a lighting rod for Red Sox fans and pink hats alike. He coined the name “Idiots” for the 2004 club and pulled a lot of heads out of the oven with his second inning grand slam against the Yanks in Game 7 of the 2004 ALCS (If you try to tell me that you didn’t think that the three wins were building up to yet another letdown right up until the ball left Damon’s bat off of my boy Javy Vasquez, you are a liar). He was one of the 25, the guys that broke the curse and still make me smile today when I think about it.

He also Took This With Him.

The problem wasn’t that he left, it was where he went. If he had, after the 2005 season, gone to San Francisco or Chicago, he would never have been able to buy a drink and been cheered so loudly on his return that the game would have been too long for Bill Simmons to watch. But no, after lying to the Sox about the kind of offers he was getting, Damon signed with the Pinstriped Assholes, the worst thing he could have done.

When he returned in 2006, with the Yanks, people (from Gammons to Ken Rosenthal) were all telling us to cheer him, ignore the betrayal, and cheer him like he probably deserved, but at that point the wound was too fresh and that was like asking us to shake hands with the guy who had just cut off our left arm. So we booed Damon for four years as we watched him do all of the things for the Yankees that he had done here: hit, hustle, play decent defense, and throw badly. Johnny Damon was never a bad guy, and he never badmouthed the fans of Boston. He just signed with the Yankees, and that was enough for us. (The Publick House in Brookline even made bumper stickers that said “Fuck Johnny Damon”)

Tonight, however, is an entirely different story. Johnny Damon is returning to Boston as a member of the Detroit Tigers. He will be hitting third and playing left field. This winter, when the Yanks refused to resign him, Damon signed a one year $8million deal. Some, who shall remain nameless, were even stumping for him to be brought back to the Sox, (I know that I suggested he could play first, but tell me you wouldn’t rather see Damon out there with his noodle arm and .281 batting average) but the cries went unanswered and we were left with Mike Cameron, Jeremy Hermida, Eric Patterson, Bill Hall et. al. (I’m not lumping Darnell or little Danny Nava in with that group because they have out performed all expectations).

It’s time to cheer for Damon. I may, in fact, stand and clap at whatever restaurant I’m eating dinner in when he comes to bat. Johnny deserves it. He was the heart and soul of a team that was often duct taped together with little else and still won us a World Series in the best way possible. It’s time he got his due.

Go Sox.

Done.

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A Tribute to a Fallen Enemy.

George M Steinbrenner III died this morning.

The man who was the face of an organization that allowed my asshole Yankees fan cousins to torture me for the first 22 years of my life is gone. Steinbrenner put up the ridiculous amounts of money to buy World Series titles and all of the best players. I should be dancing in the streets. Naked.

But I’m not.

I’m actually sad. Sure, Steinbrenner was a blood sucking whore who paid for titles, but he was also a great philanthropist whose name was on the children’s wing of the hospital in which he passed. He was a the perfect enemy for a young kid: He spent money, won titles and dressed well (if you’re a turtleneck kinda guy), but mostly he just wasn’t our guy. Growing up and seeing his antics, from the Winfield event to the old film of him yelling at Billy Martin, made me hate him, but still be a little bit jealous that he wasn’t our owner.

Either way, the country is mourning as tonight’s All-Star Game is played out with his Yankees holding the best record in baseball (assclowns). I’m sure he’ll be watching from somewhere with a smile on his face.

Well, George, at least you made it interesting.

Back tomorrow with midseason list #789. Yeah, they are on all the other sites, but you like us better.

Go Sox.

Done.

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Blprk Txts: Celtics Are Dangerously Close to Bruining My Summer.

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Beckett to DL, But The Rest of The Red Sox Haven’t Given Up.

Try to tell Youk that the season is over, and he might just stare at you so hard that your head explodes.

I’ll be the first to admit, I didn’t watch the game either of the past two nights. I was convinced that nothing good could come from two games in the Bronx after the complete failure to show up in Detroit (but hey, at least we aren’t from Detroit), and of course, there was a Pearl Jam concert to distract me. Last night I was simply demoralized after the testicle wrenching manner in which Monday night’s game ended and decided that my time would be better spent watching Lost.

"Excuse me, waiter? This is not what I ordered. Please take it back and don't spit on my food."

So it is with that said that I am actually starting to believe that this team isn’t just better than their record (they are, and they’ve just been sucking lately; by lately I mean all season) but also has some fight in it.¬†Down 5-0 for the second night in a row, the Sox came back again to take the lead, and this time they held on, even if they can’t prevent runs (Marco is not bad, he’s just suffering from the curse of Nomar). They battled back after losing their $68 million “ace” (on the 15-Day DL with Back Spasms/Sand in Vagina) and with the weight of the previous night’s loss hanging over them.

Clutchitude.

Sure, there’s Mike Lowell becoming a child and asking for his release when he didn’t get the start against Sabathia (a fat lefty) last night over Ortiz, who is only hitting .367 this month, and there’s Timmmmmmay Wakefield, another disgruntled elder statesman of this team, who was not happy about being shuttled to the bullpen, but last night showed me that, no matter how disjointed the clubhouse is, Pedroia and company aren’t going to give up on any game, ever. The fact that Jeremy Hermida turns into David Ortiz circa 2004 whenever he comes up in a big spot has definitely helped (imagine where we’d be without him).

It doesn’t get easier, with the Twins in town (anyone for a rain out and double header?) and then trips to Philly and Trampa before the calendar ticks to June. Two thirds of the outfield is still out, the bullpen is about as reliable as Hugh Heffner’s dick without Viagra and the fans are starting to revolt. There will come a point when this team needs to make a run, and a f#$%ing epic one, but just to see some fight from them amongst the carnage is a good sign.

Buchholz vs. the Twins at 7:10.

Go Sox.

Done.

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