I love the trash talk coming from the Yankee sycophants. “Oh big whoop! You beat Tampa!!! Wowee!”
You gotta beat who’s on your schedule, losers. Just because the Yankees are basically .500 against Tampa and Baltimore, don’t take it out on me. Go back to your parents’ basement, with your pinstriped futon sheets and your Derek Jeter bobblehead collection, and concentrate on your own team. By the way, what’s happening with your team?
Oh yeah, you’re 2 ½ games out. The Greatest Pitcher Who Ever Lived, Phil Hughes, looks like Kyle Farnsworth Jr. more than the next Roger Clemens. You almost dropped two straight to Toronto who’s playing without Vernon Wells. Your bullpen is shot aside from Joba Chamberlain and Mariano. Andy Pettitte is running out of gas. Roger Clemens is hurting. And the bloom has come off the Wang, so to speak. Good luck winning a playoff series.
One week to glory. May the best team win. And I’m fully honest in admitting that the Yanks might catch the Sox, since we’ve already clinched a playoff spot, and Boston’s lineup looks only slightly better than the Royals’ offense without Manny and Youkilis and with Big Papi hurting. But who cares?
“One week to glory.”
Something is missing here.
Aren’t promises like that usually followed by instructions to gather your new black Nike sneakers, tin foil hats, Kool-Aid cups, and map to the compound?