But I can’t give credit to Girardi for the Yanks’ World Series win. I mean, when you put a monkey in a li’l spacesuit and send him to the moon in a fully-automated, fully-stocked rocket, you don’t give the monkey credit for the spaceflight.
I can’t give it to the players, either, since there really isn’t a likable guy in the lot (although I still give Rivera props for his tip of the cap to the Fenway crowd during the 2005 Opening Day intros). How long, seriously, until the first off-season story in which Joba or AJ Burnett gets shivved in a barroom altercation?
I guess I have to credit this to the people behind the scenes. The folks who ponied up the 200+ million dollars to assemble this Legion of Super Whores, supplied the steroids, built the obscenely short porch at The Stadium to redefine “home field advantage,” paid off the umps, helped the terrorists get the plutonium, made sure the aliens had earth’s coordinates and financed the latest Adam Sandler film.
Still, where Yankees World Series wins used to send me down what I like to call “The Pabst Spiral,” this one’s just an annoyance (thanks again, 2004!). I wanted to see ‘em lose just to see ‘em lose. But they didn’t, so we move on. That said, there’s still part of me that hopes Godzilla steps on their worthless, soulless parade. I mean, that ugly f@#k Matsui’s been abusing his good name for years. He owes them.
Last thoughts on the subject go to Youk: