Steinbrenner here. How is everybody in second place Red Sox Nation feeling this morning? A little queasy? A little bit like the scared kid who thought he escaped the school bully, only to find him waiting outside to beat his ass again? I thought so.
Well, take solace in your long-haired hippies, your guitar playing pitcher, your ESPY award appearances and your do-rag-wearing analyst. Because that is all you get this year. No World Series, no Pennant, not even the division. Why? Because I won’t let you. My boys are back in town. Did you think Texas was going to beat us last night? On Joe Torre’s birthday? Heh.
Meanwhile, your self-proclaimed idiots were getting their asses handed to them by Tampa Bay. Yeah, the last place Devil Rays. Granted, you almost gave my boy Lou a stroke, but all’s well that ends well. And by the way, that Kazmir kid is going to look pretty good in pinstripes once he gets his control down.
That’s all for now, I’ve got deals to make, Mimosa to drink, and blazers to pick up at the cleaners. But don’t fret, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.
