I refuse to believe the Yankees are down and out. It’s just a psychological and physiological impossibility for me. As a Yankees hater, I’ve been scarred too many times. Too frequent has been the occasion where Yanks fans drowned in doubt while we haters knew the all-too-familiar triumphant (and OH SO UNLIKELY) pending outcome for the Pinstripes.
So, I can’t enjoy the 2-0 Tigers series lead quite yet. This is far from over. If anyone needed a reminder, this one remains my most vivid. It’s a terrible, terrible anniversary. I don’t know what’s more frightening…that this happened nearly a DECADE ago…or that it’s still cuts as sharply as it did that evening.
Nine years ago today. Nine years ago. After being up 4-0 early. After Grady Little carelessly kept Pedro in for those extra batters. After a three-run Yankees bottom of the eighth. After extra innings. It all ended in one swing.
It ended the only way it could have. The way all of us saw it playing out in slow motion before bat ever connected with ball. Aaron. F-in. Boone.
Now, excuse me. I need some time to collect myself again.
About the Author: Cecilio's Scribe is the founder of The Legend of Cecilio Guante and a generally pessimistic fan of the Mets, Jets, Knicks and Rangers. A fine NYC-based gentlemen who hones his marketing skills as his primary trade by day. Husband, chef, father of a newborn and after-hours blogger by night. Proud alum of the mighty Big Red of Cornell. University. Hot sauce devotee. Staunch protester of the continued wussifcation of American sports. Sometimes I rhyme slow, sometimes I rhyme quick.