I’m going to be honest: the last time the Yankees were a blip on my radar was the 2004 ALCS. Once we shook that monkey off our back, they’ve been like a lovable neighborhood punk who tries to shake you down for a quarter. A pain in the ass, but so goddam cute you give ’em the quarter anyway. And yes, even though New York has tasted the postseason more times since then than us, the three World Series titles we’ve won across the past 14 years have more than compensated for any inferiority complex that previously existed.
But now they’re back on our doorstep. And it all goes down again this Friday.
Get your booze, your meats, your bail, your caffeine and your late-for-work excuses. Tape the windows, hide the breakables and stock the fridge. Clear your calendar, shut off your ringer and give the pizza guy the key to the garage. Tell the fam you love them but you’ll see them some time next week when it all shakes down.
It’s Red Sox vs Yankees in the playoffs. Again.
