With the Red Sox off tonight, my entertainment for the evening was provided by the Cleveland Indians playing the New York Yankees.
If I were Roger Ebert, I'd give tonight 2 thumbs up: final score of 12-3 with all sorts of interesting subplots going on: Kenny Lofton finds the fountain of youth and goes 3 for 4, Victor Martinez hits a 2 run bomb, some rookie named Asdrubal Cabrera became the youngest player in Indians history to hit a postseason home run with his solo shot in the third, and Travis Hafner, aka Pronk, hit a shot that gave the Indians a 10-3 lead.
Forget about CC Sabathia looking like a 4th starter while he was in: the club formerly known as the mistake by the lake put the whooping sticks to the MFY's tonight. It's official: the Yankee dynasty of the late 90's is on the Iron Lung, Mystique and Aura really ARE strippers (er, exotic dancers) at the Bada Bing Club, and Joe Torre best start looking for his next employment opportunity.
Best part about tonight? ARod realized it was October and all his regular season stats don't mean squat. His line for the night? 0 for 2 with 2 walks: not exactly what you'd think $25 million per year would bring.
Somewhere in Southern California, Scott Boras is feverishly working the phones to line up the next sucker to take on Slappy's contract after he opts out this off season. Because I've got a sinking suspicion that no hits and 2 walks is going to be the biggest offensive output ARod puts up this post season.
By the time he comes to the plate tomorrow, the bat could very well be nothing but sawdust, given how uptight he already is. A man struggling this much with his sanity should not be funny to me.
However, God help me, it's hysterical.
Author's Note: I just realized I never updated on my Dad's condition except in a comment to Horsham. His cauterization came back negative and all the tests they ran were good news. It was a combination of stress, not enough rest, and a bit of panic. Thanks to everyone for the good thoughts.
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