It’s the off-day, but what a lovely off-day - time to sit back and soak in the sweep’s warm glowing warming glow (to paraphrase the Simpsons - I wonder how much of my life was spent in front of those Fox 25 reruns?). When Dan Shaughnessy sounds positively happy and when the Noo Yawk Post starts to sound alarmed, it’s a beautiful Tuesday morning. I know, it’s only April, the Yankees will eventually hit and Contreras will eventually pitch against impatient opponents who don’t frighten him. (There, there. They’re gone now.) But I’ll savour the moment while it lasts.
My one hope is that this stretch sends Steinbrenner apoplectic and creates bad, bad decisions. Costanza!! Either that or all the Balco rumours prove true, and Sheffield and Giambi become pokey little infield-single hitters. (Actually, I’m agnostic on the steroids question. Homers and runs are up this year, for one, despite tougher steroid testing; then there’s the plain ol’ innocent-until-proven-guilty thing.)
Random thought: was Pokey named for his batting style?
As for that Tuesday morning bit - while some things are universal in Sox fandom, others, like the extreme time zone differences, aren’t… the Sox may be evening entertainment for most, but they’re my morning cup of Joe.