*Picture from the Boston Globe*
This is how I'm choosing to remember this past weekend: Eric Hinske, sporting a facial expression usually reserved for guys named Dick Butkus and Ray Lewis, running over Jorge Posada on Saturday.
Because Saturday is the day Red Sox fans should look at as the measuring stick for this team: Beckett was dominating, the offense was clicking on all cylinders, and all the Yankees could do was sit back and watch the train go by as it steamrolled through.
Friday night, the bullpen had a bad night and we lost by one. Last night, Schilling gave a brilliant performance that ended with him wishing he could throw that last pitch just one more time. In the end, we had the bases loaded and Mr. Clutch at the plate: you couldn't have drawn it up any better.
But this is baseball, and unfortunately, stuff happens. Tip your hat to Clemens: I honestly didn't think the fat man had it in him to pitch that well. We've still got a 4 1/2 game lead with a magic number of 9: I say it's in the bag by the time we leave Tampa Bay this weekend.
For all the gnashing of teeth we do about the Yankees, we end the season going 8-10 against them: which means they won two more games head to head than we did. Two freaking games.
So enjoy your victory Yankees: and have fun out in SoCal in a few weeks. And if by chance you get lucky enough to somehow get by the Angels, we'll see you again in October. If that happens, make sure Jorge gets this message:
Eric Hinske says hello.
Another Note to Dad
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