I woke up this morning feeling pretty good about this:
You know the story. For 86 years the Yankees got the girl and the Red Sox watched them dance. After experiencing nearly forty of those futile years as a fan, I still have a nagging sense of fear of the “Evil Empire,” but it’s waning. The Yankees have a $205M payroll and a barren farm. Last night they looked more like Pedro’s “granddaddies” in a loss fueled by ancient Bernie Williams dropping a routine fly ball. I can only hope their big “trump the Red Sox again” acquisition before the 2004 season becomes their “Curse of Arod.” It’s going pretty well so far.
So now I’m going to say it. The Yankees are done. The mental aspect of baseball is huge, and these guys are permanently damaged from their colossal collapse in the 2004 ALCS. They had the Red Sox buried and they let them up off the mat to get their asses kicked. The New York papers called it the BIGGEST COLLAPSE in the HISTORY OF SPORTS. So it lingers. They have doubts. Their fans have doubts. Roles have been reversed. It’s like the “Anti-George” Seinfeld episode… Hmmm… George… “The Boss.” I wonder how he’s feeling this morning?