A New Vision Arises
Slowly, slowly, however, a change came over me.
New images began to appear before my long-closed eyes. It was Judge, Aaron Judge! His overshadowing figure appeared undaunted in the batter’s box, his bat providing a steady stream of hits. It was almost an exhortation to his teammates.
For the Yankees to have any real success, however, their other two big bats would have to begin barreling balls. Until now, they had been eerily quiet, as if cursed by Jobu.
Now, here in my dream, the sleeping giants awoke.
From the first at-bat, Giancarlo Stanton and Gary Sanchez took out all their frustrations at their season-long struggles so far on Red Sox pitchers. They clubbed every ball thrown at them, hurling them back at the team that had just done the same to them.
I saw them pause, briefly, only to recommence when the faltering Mashiro Tanaka gave Boston false hope. Too often already this season had I seen the Yanks get out to big leads, only to view the final score as a mockery of the early-innings celebrations.
And the Yankees vaunted bullpen.
But not in a dream so sweet as this. In blissful slumber and deep, I watched Stanton hit them hard, and Sanchez even harder.
My fantastical vision even allowed for Yo Soy El Gato to appear in Knight’s armor, and turn the Green Monster into a whimpering and wounded beast, hiding for cover as he launched white leather cannon balls onto its once-fearsome head.
I watched as the Yankees first few at-bats turned the frothing Fenway fanatics into booing beer seekers. But unlike other games, they kept adding on throughout. And kept balls flying out of Fenway Park. When it was all over, the final score was 10-7.
This was dream enough for any Yankees fan.