With half the division series’ already completed, we thought it was a good time to check in with all eight current and former 2010 MLB playoff teams and have a friendly, impromptu chat.
We were wrong.
“These insinuations that we’ve got the umps in our pockets? Insane. I mean, a little less insane if you mean “bribed with money” rather than literally being inside our pants pockets (We’re the Yankees we’d totally do something like that LOL).
But can we really be blamed for another ass-handing of the Twins? They’re terrible against us. And I think it is much more of a testament to our longevity that we are able to contend deepish into the playoffs even as our core slowly faces the grim reality of death’s cold, icy fingers drumming on their shoulder… that no man, no matter how spectacular or organic his talents and passions are, is free from the unfortunate lasso of age.
We watch our relatives wrinkle and die right in front of us, while we ourselves assume that such decrepit decomposition is just a slice of nature that everyone else tastes. But we are the Yankees. And even as we fade away, we burn harder than most teams.
And yeah, dude. Bribing umpires is the shit. Happens like all the time in pro ball.
“You know, I’ve seen a lot of playoffs in the last few years… a lot… and I’ve got to say, nothing makes them more easy than identifying the weakness you had last year, acquiring nothing but solutions to that weakness, and then pounding the holy fuck out of a team in their post season infancy.
Also, overly dominant pitching is really great for a few reasons. One would be that the other team does not get to score a run, at all. The other is that it really, really draws people’s attention away from the fact that your team’s offense hasn’t really done anything much more significant than a timely single here and there or take advantage of the opponents’ tomfoolery out there.
In fact you might even go so far as to say that the Phillies didn’t win this series so much as Reds lost i–
*Sound of world collapsing under the sheer weight of this cliche’s usage in the past 48 hours*
“Here’s a question: Where the hell are you people? And I don’t buy that I’m “not supposed to call the fans out.” Of course I am. You know what this feels like? Playing playoff baseball in front of an empty stadium?
And don’t act like you’re all captivated by the Bucs or something. “Oooh, Tampa is a football town!” Maybe you recall eight years ago, when they won the Super Bowl and nobody noticed.
We just played ourselves out of an 0-2 hole. Do you know what that means? We were on the brink, an eyelash from going home to the interminable winter of a team who expected more. And even if we take out the Rangers, there’s still the Yankees. I am so sick of the god damn Yankees.
It’ll be like killing a bear only to find out there was a lion living inside him.
And still, none of you will be there. You know what? You guys don’t deserve this champhionship run.
I’m glad you’re all getting hosed by the comically corrupt Marlins brass.”
Welp, I’ll tell you what. I really thought we had them locked up for a sec there. Looks like we’re playing this one pretty close to the chest after all.
“Seriously, how great is Cliff Lee? Don’t you just want to hug him, and maybe sniff his hair a little? If he tucked me in every night I would sleep like a baby. Though it is a little disturbing to know that he went eight innings and threw 10 K’s in his 2010 playoff debut and didn’t even have the best performance of the day.
Now, I know you’re all kind of waiting for us to go “2001 Oakland A’s” on everything. Obviously we’ll be holding a closed-door meeting so that Ron Washington can place a baseball bat between the likes of Josh Hamilton, Vlad Guerrero, and Michael Young, and inform them of its value while playing the game; he will probably remind them of the success that such a tool brought them during the throes of the regular season.
He will grab Guerrero’s face and shriek into it with increasingly panicked, high-pitched tones of voice, that striking out with the bases loaded pretty much defies the offensive laws established by the gloveless behemoth during the regular season. Right now, we’re kind of this underground explosion, capable of causing damage, but apparently we have to dig ourselves out of some weird layer of preventive shit.
Or, you know. Just put Cliff Lee out there again.
So to answer your question, it ‘s going ‘great?'”
*Watches footage of all four Brooks Conrad errors during series. Defeatist shrug*
“I just… I don’t even…”
*Stands in shocked silence with arms folded*
“Now these ‘runs’ you’re talking about. You’re saying they are also important to winning.”
*Takes diligent notes*
“Uh huh. Start at first base, get to third, touch home plate again…”
*Looks down at notes*
“That sounds exhausting. How does the batter score runs when he strikes out or flies out?”
“Wh… seriously? None at all?”
“Well… isn’t there a way to, like, I don’t know… pitch so hard that runs are scored?”
“Really. Because, I mean, we got pitchers. We’ve got plenty of…”
*Drifts off, thinking of all the the times there have been runners left on base*
“All the way back to home plate, huh?”
*Looks back down at notes*
“All right, we finally did it. 15 years, man, 15 freaking years of mediocre-at-best baseball. This is our chance, boys. Our chance to stake a flag in Cincy and make it known that we are a force to be reckoned with. Cardinals? Cubs? Screw ‘um. We got the history, the management, and the power to take down the whole system.
NL’s #1 offense? Us. Most likely NL MVP? Our first baseman. Least number of errors in the league? Us. Sharp pitching? Wouldn’t be here if we didn’t have it.
I got to tell you, unless some kind of tragic, hopelessly demoralizing mental and physical collapse happens here, I’d say our chances are pretty good. I know it’s the Phillies, but they’ve proven plenty of times that they are a beatable squad, except for, you know, September. There is no reason we can’t just storm into Philly, guns blazing, and really surprise some people. I like our chan–
“I don’t understand.”
“All right another dominant year of baseball in the Twin Cities. Had to fight off a few upstarts, but we got there. Who’d we draw in the first round.
… the Yankees?”
*Hurls everything on desk to the floor*
“I MEAN ITS JUST EVERY YEAR WITH THIS SHIT. EVERY FUCKING YEAR.”