You know those commercials for depression with the suicidal guy floating around, not giving a fuck about anything? That’s what it’s gonna be like until first pitch tonight minus all the feelings of self-loathing and cutting. Nothing else matters- totally oblivious to my surroundings. Pretty sure I could get a call right now that my entire family has been raped and murdered and my response would be questioning the availability of Soriano for tonight’s game. For the next 10 hours, I’m floating through life. Easily the least productive day I’ll ever have. Sorry Prez. But I don’t think I’m alone here. Last night’s comeback win has gotten me more excited than I’ve been all season. First win of the year after trailing in the ninth, contributions from absolutely everybody except Tex, and a clutch performance from the X factor Raul Ibanez. Now the Yankees enter tonight with a chance to wrap up the division on their own. Let Baltimore win in the 23rd inning- I don’t care. Yankees win and they avoid that one game play-in nonsense.
On another note, last night’s crowd was embarrassing. Granted, the rain was mainly at fault there, but still, that was the best game of the year, and it would have been nice to do it in front of something other than a highlight from a mid-August day game in 1993. Stadium better be sold out tonight. If I have to see one more fucking comment from Tampa Jack about Yankee attendance, I will kill myself. Forgo all other obligations. Fuck the debate; here’s a spoiler: the asshole wins. See you all at the stadium tonight. Time to crash the Stub Hub servers.