My flight landed at Burbank airport tonight and the first thing I did once I got to baggage claim was flip on my iPhone, click on my MLB app and listen to Yankees-Rays. They were in the 4th inning and there was no score. For the next couple of hours, as I made my way up to Santa Barbara on the freeways, I sat there glued to the game wondering which team would score first. What a pitchers duel – the two best teams going at it as if it were a postseason contest. The car finally pulled in my driveway with the game in the 11th. I dropped my luggage at the front door, ran inside the house like a crazy person and turned on the TV – just in time to see Mitre serve one up to Brignac. For the first time this season I was glad I don’t get the postgame shows on YES; my Extra Innings package cuts off the broadcasts as soon as the games end, and the screen shows nothing but the words “Good Night.” It was not a good night for the Yankees, and I’m too tired and heartsick to do anything but say “Good Night” myself.
I was at a party last night and overheard a man named Jon talking about his love for the Mets. So I hurried over with my She-Fan Cam (could I be any more annoying) and asked him a few questions.
With the Yankees in action against the Pirates at the very same time that Team USA was facing elimination against Puerto Rico, I felt compelled to follow both games and, as a result, developed a severe case of split personality.