What're You Worried About?
I will set the scene as best as I can remember it - I was only 12. The Yanks were playing the Royals for the right to go to the World Series in 1976. It was the middle innings of the game, and the Yanks were down by a couple of runs.
"Maybe you should go to bed," my mother said.
"Let him stay up," my father answered.
"But they're losing," Mom sort of whispered.
"So what, they're the Yankees," Dad answered. "What're you worried about?"
In the bottom of the 9th Chris Chambliss hit a first-pitch homer to win it, against all odds. As he circled the bases the fans emptied onto the field.
"He's gotta' touch home!" I was screaming.
But I was talking to an empty room. My father was already making me a salami, cheese, and pepper sandwich.
(He made the world's best sandwiches).
I thought of all that last night as I watched Girardi (A guy Dad didn't like) flush away Game 4 of the ALCS by leaving AJ in too long.
"What're you worried about?" ran through my mind, but this looks like a really wounded crew.
"What would we eat if they lost?" I asked Dad as we shared that sandwich so long ago.
"Same thing," he said. "You can't control if they win or lose, but you can always eat good."
Not sure where our phone conversation about last night's game would've gone today, but sensing my disappointment, I'm sure my Dad would have offered up a comforting sentence or two because in the end, it wasn't about the Yankees, really.
It was about sharing a sandwich.
When does free agent season open?
A rotation of Sabathia, Pettite, Hughes, someone else, and Cliff Lee sounds about right this morning.
"Maybe you should go to bed," my mother said.
"Let him stay up," my father answered.
"But they're losing," Mom sort of whispered.
"So what, they're the Yankees," Dad answered. "What're you worried about?"
In the bottom of the 9th Chris Chambliss hit a first-pitch homer to win it, against all odds. As he circled the bases the fans emptied onto the field.
"He's gotta' touch home!" I was screaming.
But I was talking to an empty room. My father was already making me a salami, cheese, and pepper sandwich.
(He made the world's best sandwiches).
I thought of all that last night as I watched Girardi (A guy Dad didn't like) flush away Game 4 of the ALCS by leaving AJ in too long.
"What're you worried about?" ran through my mind, but this looks like a really wounded crew.
"What would we eat if they lost?" I asked Dad as we shared that sandwich so long ago.
"Same thing," he said. "You can't control if they win or lose, but you can always eat good."
Not sure where our phone conversation about last night's game would've gone today, but sensing my disappointment, I'm sure my Dad would have offered up a comforting sentence or two because in the end, it wasn't about the Yankees, really.
It was about sharing a sandwich.
When does free agent season open?
A rotation of Sabathia, Pettite, Hughes, someone else, and Cliff Lee sounds about right this morning.
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