Why wasn’t I more engaged during tonight’s 4-1 loss to the Red Sox? What made me sit quietly instead of yell at the TV? How come I was even tempted to change the channel?
Maybe it was because I was concerned about my car, which I’d stupidly driven into a curb, busting the right front wheel well and necessitating a call to Roadside Assistance.
Or maybe it was because Girardi put Berroa at third again instead of the more defensively capable Pena, so I was not surprised when Angel made those two errors.
I suppose my detachment could have been due to the fact that Robinson Cano was the only Yankees batter with a pulse.
Or that, while Ellsbury’s stealing home must have been a genuine thrill for Red Sox fans, it left me cold.
I certainly wasn’t amused that Pettitte, despite the walks, pitched another decent game with nothing to show for it except this.
And while Mike Lowell was an RBI machine, he looked gimpy at third and made me worry how A-Rod will fare when he returns from his own hip surgery. (Please hurry, Al.)
I was roused from my stupor when Mark Melancon made his appearance, and I was impressed with his two scoreless innings of relief work.
But he’s 24. Didn’t he look, like, 40?
Seriously. I thought I was watching a scene from “Benjamin Button.”
I was really excited when I got an email during the game from Greg of Red Sox Ramblings. He had an encounter with Dave Winfield while he was working at Fenway and wanted to let me know. Very cool, Greg! I loved it!
In the end, I guess I was just suffering from Yankees-Red Sox Fatigue – all those hours and innings without a single victory. I would be discouraged right now, except that the Yanks are a very good team that ran into a very hot club. It happens. I don’t think anybody could have beaten the Sox this weekend, given the streak they’re on.
The good news? There are 144 games left. Plenty of time for the Yankees to get hot too.
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