Returning To The Death Star

Batman has his Batcave.

Superman has his Fortress of Solitude.

Darth Marc has the Cathedral of Baseball.

After six long months, I've finally been allowed to return home.

The one place where I can leave all the foolishness of the world behind and embrace the tranquility that is America's Pasttime.

I was so happy that I'm able to watch baseball live today, that I was willing to overlook the usual inconveniences that come with watching a game live.

Like the yuppies sitting above you who are complaining about how high their seats are and want the whole section to hear about some business deal they just completed.

Or the drunk frat boys who look at the stadium as a large outdoor cocktail party or frathouse. Hey assholes...this isn't Jacksonville and Florida/UGA isn't until the Fall.

Or the asshole who is sitting four seats from the end of the row but decides that he wants to go the other way to go down the steps. And wants to use your shoulders as a balance beam. (At least he asked before he did it, but it still doesn't excuse his horrible sense of direction.)

Or the stupid tourists who can't wait between pitches to walk to their seats.

Ot the stupid teenagers in front of me who wanted to start the Wave and couldn't wonder why the regulars were giving them dirty looks.

Normally, these acts are punishable by banishment or death. This week, the tourists get a pass. Because, the baseball gods have given us our game back.

I was so happy to be at the game, that I was willing to look Chacon's second awful performance of the brief season. They should start calling him the Candy Man....considering all the lollypops he was serving up today.

He was able to battle through six innings and get the decision, but he has discover whatever magic he had going last year if we're going to survive. I don't know what we're going to get out of Pavano or Wright...so if we're going to win the division and advance, we have to get Wang and Chacon back on their A games.

I've been avoiding the use of the term relentless to describe the lineup this year. But it's as good a term as any to describe how the Yankees won today. Jeremy Affeldt was at 80 plus pitches after three plus innings. The Yankees basically said to him, throw strikes or we're not swinging. And they used that approach to wear him and his bullpen out. It was kind of a boxer carrying his opponent so he can punish him for the full length of the fight. I know it's only the Royals, but I'm hoping this approach continues against the rest of the league.

I'm halfway hoping for a close, low-scoring game the next time out. It's hard to gauge how the bullpen is performing with a seven run lead. But then again, I'm tired of the Yankees playing to the level of their competition. We have to start feasting on the weak links again. Don't give them a chance to breathe. Don't let them think that they have a chance in hell of winning.

Overall, I'm pleased with what I saw today from lineup. Here's hoping the pitching follows suit tomorrow.