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Moose struggled, Matsui was a horror show with men on base, Bubba and Sheff did something I didn’t see any Yankee outfielders do all year, and don’t even get me started about that “Cano in/out the baseline box” bullshit…I’m hanging it on number 13’s ass.

He’ll probably be named AL MVP, and if that happens, it’ll be like pouring gasoline on my raging fire inside. The error and dumb-as-a-rock baserunning misadventure in Game Two, combined with his non-existence at the plate for the entire series, condemns him to a particular level of TC’s Yankee Hell…where he’ll find the last “superstar” who turned out to be a useless son of a bitch already in residence.

“I played great baseball all year
and I played like a dog the last five days.”

It’s simple, A-Hole, how it works here: regular season numbers don’t mean shit once the playoffs are under way. Like Winfield before you, who fell into a black hole in the 1981 ALCS and World Series, earning the derisive “Mr. May” monicker sneered by Darth Boss George, it’s what you do in October that counts. It’s now been two Octobers in which you did jack shit.

You long to be “The Man,” but as long as Derek Jeter’s breathing, this team is his. He took the team and tried hoisting it on his shoulders last night, tried to lead it to the finish line by belting that home run in the seventh and leading off the ninth with a single that you wiped out with a quick 5-4-3 DP. Even if you would have just let a goddamn pitch hit you during that last at-bat you would have made a contribution. It would have been two on, no outs. Rhoidbo…(oh fuck it)….Jason Giambi follows with a rope. Tie game.

American League MVP? Fuck you, A-Hole.You ain’t even your own team’s MVP. You’ll have to pray to whoever other than your reflection in a mirror that there’s an October next season to even begin to claw your way out of that level of Yankee Hell you share with Mr. May.

(cross posted at the Darkside, where I imagine the wake is under way.)

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