mlb-general
Written by a Yankees fan, why the Yankees deserve to lose to the Red Sox this year.
I am a New York Yankees fan. Diehard, at that. Yet, for some reason, the intense Division race going on between the Yankees and the Boston Red Sox doesn’t faze me. I’m not obsessing about it.
by Trevor Freeman
This morning I received an e-mail from a Yankee fan and smiled…….the nervousness is setting in.
“Why do you even bother? We all know how this ends….with the Bronx Bombers hoisting the World Series trophy for the 27th……let me repeat…27th time. The Oakland Athletics are not beating anyone, Boston will have its way with you guys and then they’ll head to the BX for their annual ass-kicking at the hands of the Yankees. Do yourself a favor and start mentally conditioning yourself for the inevitable.”
The gates are open and the final run is on. It’s going to be a close race, a photo finish, right down to the wire, but however it turns out, the Yankees won’t even be close.
Contrary to what you may have read elsewhere, the debate over who should be National League MVP is not a debate. Or at least it shouldn’t be. Outside of an unlikely collapse in the final month of the season, this “debate” is really just another Barry Bonds coronation.
When I was a child, above all dreams, I fantasized about being a dump truck. Unaware of the impossibility of this aspiration, I would wait eagerly, day after day, until the great truck would grace my driveway, promising a grand future.
Me, Raffy and Greg, all the way to the Hall.
By Ryan McGowan
There it was, the unmistakable trademark fist-pump after the last out was recorded, that he would later reveal was more to mask his fear of failure than to show up his opponents. The team in white ran onto the field and the crowd erupted in jubilation. The Eck had done it again, had finished off a big win one more time, the ultimate Omega to a host of various Alphas.
It’s that time of year again. When baseball’s general managers frantically call eachother looking for a trade that will drive their team into the playoffs. A time when battles for divisions are either down to the wire or teams are far in front. Even a time when Paul LoDuca and Guierrmo Mota sit in the Dodger clubhouse before a battle with the second place Padres crying.
A questionable move by first year Dodger GM Paul Depodesta sent lights out set up pitcher Mota, right fielder Encarnacion and Dodger fan favorite and all star catcher Paul LoDuca to the Florida Marlins. All this for starting pitcher Brad Penny, first baseman Hee Seop Choi and a minor league pitcher. Say it ain’t so Depodesta, say it ain’t so.
Yes, it’s been a long hard road for Cubs and Red Sox fans. Everyone knows it was 1908 since the Cubs have won a championship and 1918 for Boston. Those years have been filled with turmoil, agony and heartbreak. But they aren’t the only fans that have experienced heartbreak or who have been waiting for a championship as long as they can remember. Hell, some fans don’t even know what it’s like to be heartbroken.
Please don’t go Randy.
One of the profound speculations in sport has always been, to me, if athletic prowess were sold at Wal-Mart, in what section would it be found?
Would it be packaged among the frozen pizza in the grocery section? Would it hang beside the Wrangler jeans in the clothing isle? Could it reside amongst the candy bars and gum in the checkout lane?
Never before has this question earned more relevance than in recent weeks. As a 25-year-old accused rapist dismantles the NBA’s flagship franchise and the Yankees try to dangle a talentless farm system and a bag of money in the face of the Arizona Diamondbacks in order to lure the Big Unit to the Big Apple, talent is something to be bought, sold or swapped, not cultivated or cherished.