Ever since we dropped the single most remarkable comeback in baseball history on them in the 2004 ALCS, the Yankees have kept spending and spending, hoping to wash the taste of Papi’s cleats and Schilling’s sock out of their collective mouths. For the most part, it’s been fun to watch their attempts, especially the parts where we won another World Series in 2007 and they failed to make the post-season in 2008.

So now their 500 million dollar zeppelin pulls into Fenway tonight. And they’ll be trying their best once again to vanquish those 2004 memories, with lots of shiny new weapons in their arsenal. Here are just a few of my half-assed predictions for how it’s going down:

Teixeira will be booed within an inch of his life. I’m guessing that the chorus of unpleasantries that will rain down with every Tex at-bat will be unlike anything ever experienced at Fenway. I’m talking planes from Logan diverted because the boos are messing with their sonar. I’m talking people in the aisles at BJ’s Wholesale in Dedham craning their necks and asking, “What the hell’s that noise?” I’m talking soundcheck at the big AC/DC show in Melbourne postponed until “that bloody game’s over.” Some folks are advocating the silent treatment. I say give ’em hell until your tonsils say, “F@#k this” and simply detach themselves from your body.

Youkilis will kick somebody’s ass.
It might be Joba Chamberlain’s. It might be the kid who messes up his order at the Burger King drive-thru on Brookline Ave. But Youk will obviously be expecting his dome to be a tractor beam for at least one or two fast balls. And when it happens, there’ll be hell to pay. Of course, as He Whose Beard Scares Children is currently one of our hottest hitters, we can’t risk a donnybrook-induced injury. So we can only hope that John Henry has already assembled the Youk Freedom Fighters — an elite team of rustlers, cutthroats, murderers, bounty hunters, desperadoes, mugs, pugs, thugs, nitwits, half-wits, dimwits, vipers, snipers, con men, Indian agents, Mexican bandits, muggers, buggerers, bushwhackers, hornswagglers, horse thieves, bull dykes, train robbers, bank robbers, ass kickers, shit kickers and Methodists — to do the dirty work.

As our pals at Subway Squawkers pointed out, Papi has already put Joba on notice via the New York Post:

“None of that, man — just play the game the way it’s supposed to be, and that’s about it.”

If the dude can’t abide, then let slip the dogs of war. Especially if one of those dogs is Lemmy from Motorhead.

Jason Giambi will continue to be a tool. I don’t care if he’s no longer in pinstripes. Screw him.

Your predictions, two cents and nude photos go in the comments. And be here for Sunday’s game for our live blog extravaganza. And if sports betting is your thing, I’d say you’ve got to bet on the Sox tonight!

And yes, you can have one of those Youk shirts.