Tomorrow, we ride the Bean-Time Express to Tampa, where Evan Longoria has already made a series of piercing anti-A-Rod wails - reminiscent of Donald Sutherland's squeal at the end of the mid-seventies "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" remake. The sanctity of the game! It's all about integrity! The children are watching this! Somebody must do something! Where the hell is the Johnny Walker?
When I hear players go off on A-Rod - and I appreciate that some have a point here - I cannot help but think of Bible Belt pastors decrying gay marriage, while they secretly grope the altar boys online. If you're looking for suspects, never overlook the guy screaming the loudest. But certainly, no one would ever speak such things about a Tampa player. Only Yankees break the rules.
Well, Joe Girardi can yell all he wants about The Beastmaster's safety. It won't do any good. When MLB doesn't care about protecting him - if the next ball grazes A-Rod's chin, Bud Selig won't even dare try to feign public remorse - the team has only one defense: Stay in each game, and make it costly for any pitcher to piss off the batters or put a runner on base. If we fall down by four or five runs against a King Felix - well, The Beastmaster might should wear a suit of armor to the plate.
It's sad that we are discussing this. But let's face it: Right now, the Yankees are the demons of baseball - the bad guys in the World Wrestling Federation. We have a pile of games against Tampa and Baltimore still to play, and if our pitching holds, anything could happen. We are a threat to Bud Selig's clean post-season - (though ratings would go through the roof, if we make it, lining old BeezelBud's pockets.) Wherever we go, fans will scream for blood, and some pitcher with nothing to lose - except maybe a federal investigation into his online visits - surely will give them what they want.
Here you go, Tampa! Step right up! See The Beastmaster, LIVE! And do we have a hero willing to make him fall?
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