Not to add fuel to the continuous shrill cries from Yankees fans that Red Sox fans are unhealthily obsessed with them, but did anyone else notice the news out of New York last night?
Before the Sox / Indians action got rolling, they mentioned on NESN that the pitching matchup was Hideo Nomo vs. Randy Johnson.
"If the Yankees can't pound Hideo Nomo into paste with Johnson on the mound," I told Stephen, "They may really be finished this season."
By the time I went to bed last night, the last report showed a score of 10-2. Devil Rays.
Hmm, I thought. I was surprised. No matter how far they sink in the standings, I'm still not fully prepared to turn my back on the Yankees--I don't think I'll ever trust them further than I can throw them.
Just now, I read Cliff Corcoran's excellent recap of what turned out to be a 20-11 stunner.
With the crowd chanting Bernie's name, Travis Harper's first pitch was a chest-high floater right over the plate that Bernie served into the deepest part of center for a two-RBI triple that pushed the Yankees ahead 13-11. In an unusual display of defiance, Bernie didn't bust it out of the box right away, but flipped his bat to show up Piniella. Clearly upset, Bernie continued to scowl while being congratulated by Luis Sojo at third base. He continued to scowl when scoring on Jorge Posada's subsequent home run, which pushed the Yankee lead to 15-11, and continued to scowl in the dugout.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Yankees went to town. After Posada's homer Cano, who had lead off the inning, flied out for the second out. Derek Jeter then reached on an infield single to second. Seirra singled Jeter to third. Then came the heart of the order:
Gary Sheffield. Three run homer into Monument Park, 18-11.
Alex Rodriguez. Solo homer into my section of the right field bleachers, 19-11.
Hideki Matsui. Solo shot into the black in dead center, 20-11.
To recap that eighth inning in which the Yankees scored 13 runs on 12 hits and a walk, including six singles, a double, a triple and four home runs, it went a little something like this:
Single, single, RBI ground out, single, single, double, intentional walk, triple, homer, fly out, single, single, homer, homer, homer, fly out.
Sometimes the Yankees remind me of Michael Myers--they can be shot with machine guns, macheted, burned alive, run over by a bus, and they still keep coming at you.