Why am I torturing myself listening to Michael Kay?

I guess I was wrong about the yanks having only Gordon and Rivera as part of their end of game plan. Apparently, the "troika," as Kay calls it without a hint of sarcasm, is Sturze (7th), then Gordon and Rivera for the 8th and 9th. When he said this, I said to Chan, "I'm not even going to say anything about that." But Kay, as if he heard my mental query, gave an excuse as to why not ONE member of the "troika" was available last night, when they really could have used them. And that excuse was that they were all tired, except for Gordon, who was switched to the third troika position, but didn't come in anyway, as the save had already been blown at that point. (Kay didn't explain the last part, though, that's all me.)

And then there was a play where the yanks' infield almost botched a pop-up, because Jeter came rushing in, to Hall-of-Fame-fully take charge, and overran the ball, before reaching back to catch it at the last second. About this, Kay's buddy and Oriole-from-my-youth-turned-yankee-shill Ken Singleton said proudly that it was an "acrobatic" catch.

Then Kay bragged about how Sturtze did such a great job getting the yanks out of a tough spot--after he'd just given up a double and a walk.

Nothing new here. I'm just sayin', I'm pissed. Texas has two innings to come up with five.

Now he's just said TanGorMo. Kay, that is. He said, "What a difference a night makes. With the yankee big guns available." He's saying this with two outs in the eighth. And a four run yankee lead! In a one run game, like last night, the run Sturtze allowed to score would have tied this game. Kay needs to suffer the same fate as Clucky from Cluckin' Chicken. Go ahead, yankee fans, believe the hype. Sturtze is a quality pitcher. Gordon won't choke--to the point of puking--in the playoffs. Rivera always gets the save against the Sox. Leave a tooth under your pillow tonight, too.

I've gotta start talking about Curb Your Enthusiasm to cheer myself up. Chan and I are afficia-frickin-no-doz of that show. We have this HBO channel that shows an episode every night. Every night before it comes on, one of us hits the info button and we read the preview to ourselves. Then one of us outwardly chuckles. Then the other one does. And it goes on like this, as we each think of another funny thing about the episode we've seen so many times. Curb rules.

Kay, on the other hand, is still pissing me off. If Rivera gets two more outs, I'm gonna be hearing more about the troika, even though it's not even a save situation. But if they do win, I'm turning the sound off quickly, before Chan can say anything. You know, that's actually one of my little superstitions. I try not to glance down at the remote when the yanks one out away from a win. If I do, I admit the game's over, because I'm getting ready to hit mute or the power button. The weird thing is, it's really hard to fool your own brain into thinking the remote is somewhere else in the room. Because even to THINK about where it is jinxes it. I just did it now. And the yanks won. Terrible job, Jere. I cost us in that game in late August '03, when we were losing to the yanks, and Nomar was the last batter against Mariano. I glanced, Nomar got out. I was in Buffalo. Later, I ate cajun food. In Buffalo.

Sometimes I babble when I'm happy. I'm happy about other, more real-lifey stuff, not the yanks and their shitty troika of feces. And the fact that we're still in first. And that yankee fans have false hope. But not that when Chan and I go to Dunkin Donuts when I finish this, the counter dudes will have special Dunkin Donuts brand yankee hats on. I bet they don't wear those in fuckin Woostah, dude. Or maybe they do, since that town does have a radio station that plays the yanks games. Terrible job.

Hey, today is the day when Homer listened to Yummy Yummy Yummy in '69.