"A New York Treasure" --Village Voice

And you say New York City

Today gives a day of rest for the Yankees and Angels, as well as the New Yorkers who stayed up late to catch Game Two. As discouraging as last night’s loss was, Yankee fans must feel good that Randy Johnson will start Game Three. The obvious hope is that the Bombers offense will get rolling against Paul Byrd, the veteran pitcher who bares an unusual resemblance to Doctor Frasier Crane.

I had a nightmare last night that perhaps the good doctor could have helped me with. I dreamt that the Yankee and Red Sox were playing late into the night and that I fell asleep with the Bombers ahead 12-11. When I awoke, Emily and I were surprised that the game was still going on even though it was eleven o’clock in the morning (by which time Boston had a 18-12 lead). I was beside myself. Shortly thereafter, I found myself on the kitchen floor, red in the face, throwing a bonafide tantrum. I just couldn’t believe the Yanks were blowing it. Then a foul ball was hit toward the Yankee dugout where George and Barbara Bush were sitting. Jorge Posada tried to make the catch but missed the ball, which smacked Barbara in the head. This refocused my rage and I laughed at Barbara Bush. Emily scolded me for taking pleasure in someone else’s pain, and that even if I didn’t like Babs it was plain bad vibes to mock her. Em told me to stop crying and get my act together or else.

The truth of the matter is I went to bed before the game was over last night. At about three a.m. I got up to pee and found Emily on the couch, unable to sleep herself. I go up to her and say, “Did they lose?” She said that she hadn’t checked and ordered me back to bed. Well, I knew what that meant. Course she had checked the score. Now Emily is about the most honest person I know and we often have debates about when it is appropriate to tell a white lie. Normally she just won’t hear it, but I’ll be damned if self-preservation didn’t take hold of her in the middle of the night. Go figure. Isn’t she an angel, trying to spare me like that? Now whose the crazy one? Ah-hem. (Not for nothing but when I confronted her about it this morning she replied, “I was half-asleep and I didn’t know what I was doing.” Right.)

Big Game Bust

Skipping around the net this morning, there is some good stuff on the Red Sox and their Game Two defeat. Tom Verducci and John Harper pin the blame on Boomer Wells, and Howard Bryant does a good job with his behind-the-scenes blog. From a fan’s perspective, Evan Brunell is disappointed in Red Sox Nation’s reaction to Tony Graffanino’s costly miscue.

Talking Heads

Meanwhile, if you live in the tri-state area, you should consider heading into town on Saturday evening when Stephen Borelli, Jay Jaffe and Steven Goldman will all be at the Coliseum book store talking baseball (Borellis will be promoting his book on Mel Allen, while Jay and Steven–both good pals of the two of us here at Bronx Banter–discuss the new Baseball Prospectus book, “Mind Game”).

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"This ain't football. We do this every day."
--Earl Weaver