Of course, you can get your own Youk shirt. At soxaddicts.com.

Tonight, we drink for Youk. Because the guy probably coulda sat. Who the f#$k would have questioned him, when we’ve got players felled by stiff necks, cracked ribs, pulled muscles and tormented buttocks (also the name of my favorite new band).

But Youk is made of stronger stuff. The kind of stuff that knows where he needs to be when his team needs him most. For that, we salute him. With several dozen brewskis. Just like Youkbacca himself will probably down before the game.

I really don’t want to see us get swept by the Rays. It would only wash away a lot of the good vibes we’ve cultivated over the last several weeks. We didn’t come this far just to get turned away at the gates of first place. So I’m praying to the Gods of Baseball that Wakey can dig down just a little deeper into that bag of tricks (not a euphemism, BTW) and hold those Rat Bastard Rays in check.

And if Youk wants to smash a couple home runs just to show his ankle who’s boss… I’m all for that, too.