Papi-Man and Rob-Bon Strike Again!
Heh. Apparently the team listens to me when I yell and use profanity. This is quite a poser. I don't like to overuse aspects of writing or words. But mojo is mojo,so:
WIN, AGAIN, TONIGHT, BITCHES!
Okay. That's out of the way.
That game was beautiful. Moreso, it was doubly beautiful. Containing two of the most awesome things on God's green earth.
There was, of course, David Ortiz hitting a 3-run homer, AGAINST a 15-mile an hour wind, TO the deepest part of the park. Oh, yeah, and with his usual clutch timing. I was watching on the big screen downstairs, and we had been teased all night with homers, good and bad.
The Wily Mo almost-grandslam, especially, was painful. So we weren't going to be teased; it brought us to our feet immediately, but we were not going to cheer until it definitively left the field of play. Which, yeah, it did, and there was much screaming and jumping.
It left the field, immediately caught and cradled by the other godlike figure of the evening. The young god of fire, the Agni of the Bullpen, Newest Bearer of the All-Powerful Vegetable Mojo. The transference seems to have worked rather well, thank you very much.
Yes, it wasn't technically a save situation, but with the Yankees, every lead under around 7 is unofficially a save situation. And that was a thing of beauty, right there. There's an expression in my house, a call and response, if you will: "What are the 6 most beautiful words in the English Language?" "Alex Rodriguez Goes Down On Strikes." And the picture was just as beuatiful as the words. He made A-Rod look overmatched. And then he did it to Matsui and Posada, and the game was over like that. Strike three, game final, let's go get some beers.
Of course, this doesn't mean everything's okay. While Sweet Mark did have the go-ahead hit, he's still struggling. Coco's not back. We have to keep up last night's momentum, which is not easy. But last night was certainly a morale boost, if nothing else.
7 PM! BACK TO THE BATCAVE! (If it doesn't rain.)