IT BE DONE . . .

Well ... what can I say. I feel strangely mellow and philosophical about the Yankees' blazing loss, the spectacular fizzle, the pathetic blow. What good is a three-game lead when the fickle gods of baseball decide things upon their own whim and fancy?

I hate Boston. They suck. They will forever suck. They will never have a "rivalry" with New York, because there is simply, logically, no comparison between the two teams. Not in numbers, not in wins, not in championships, and certainly not in players' levels of cleanliness. I hate Boston fans. I hate them all, and not a single fan is exempt from my deep and utter hatred. They all suck too, and perhaps they suck even more than the actual Boston players, because they insist on the "rivalry" with New York, not even having the intelligence necessary to know that a "rivalry" assumes parity between two parties. No parity here. Boston sucks.

But. But. BUT. They won the ALCS this year. They took the pennant. I can be facetious and say that this is a tease for them, for they will lose the World Series, and they will never be back in this position again, not for another nearly twenty years. But that would be unfair, as unfair as the unfair baseball gods. No, they won it fair and square. They pitched well, they hit well, they played well. They drove us to the very end, forced us to play hard, and we ... I don't know what we did. We lost.

The season is finally over for me. At least until mid-December, I can now save my money and let it accrue for application towards future games, $20.00 parking spaces, $7.00 Premio sausages, $6.50 Beck's, $4.00 cheese fries, and perhaps next year, I'll even try those strange things known as Dippin' Dots. Next year, I'll be back, and I'll let Steinbrenner rip me off all over again at the concession stands. And I'll be cheering harder than ever, for my pain runs deep and vengeance soothes my Yankee-lovin' soul.