Not only does Cliff Lee compLEEte me, he pulled another compLEEte game out of his hat. His domination of the team with the best record in the majors, the most home runs, and the highest payroll was something out of a storybook.
Hey, they should act that out on Broadway.
Wait, they are.
The stories surrounding Game One of this seven game magic act included a woman who tried to trade her body for tickets. Now that’s a fan. They better recruit her for that Phillies' cheerleading squad.
All the hype in the 28 pages of pre-series coverage in the “Phillie” Inquirer could be reduced to three things: Brett Myers fixed a mechanical error, Shane Victorino was fitted for a skirt by the New York Post, and Cliff Lee and CC Sabathia are pen pals.
But the conclusion of this Cy Young faceoff was just what the Phillies ordered.
The recap of this game is easy. In his first at-bat, Chase Utley reached base for the 26th consecutive time in the postseason, and then did it again… and again. He showed his efficiency by going for the long ball—just like Jayson Werth did in Game Five of the NLCS. And just like Jayson, he did it twice just to prove it wasn’t a fluke. Then everyone except Pedro Feliz made it to base.
Six runs later, Yankees fans sat down.
Unfortunately CC Sabathia and the Yankee bullpen had a hard time finding the teenie, tiny strike zone but that’s not something that bothered Lee.
Lee wasn’t nervous and I thought he made that quite clear in the postgame. As we say in Iowa, “The hay’s in the barn.” He’d spent his whole life preparing for this.
That’s impressive. I’m not even prepared for house guests. Hell, I just called my child by my dog’s name.
Then Lee hotdogged it up. He yawned during his pop fly catch on the mound and made a behind-the-back snatch that kept a ball from slipping through the middle for a hit.
Are we having fun yet?
So, when you have a pitcher like Lee who allows only six hits throughout a complete game with 10 strikeouts, no earned runs, and nabs Player of the Game, what do your fielders do?
Not much. The only options are basically to cheer, and ignore the fans in the stands. Personally, I’d fart. That’s right. I’d pass gas right out there in the grass and hope someone had a thermo-camera-thingy so they could see the red flames pass from my… well, keester. Now that’s something I’d like to see on the cover of the New York Post.
Hey, gas, grass, or ass—nobody writes for free.
In the end Fox came through and blew Cliffy’s shutout by jinxing him with all that talk about… well, shutouts. I had pains of how they tried to blow saves for Brad Lidge in the 2008 Series by talking about his perfect save season.
But they should have known better. They tried to curse Utley by mentioning that he was a good two strike hitter just before he hit his second dinger. But Chase believes, “If you say it, it will come.” With his stone cold conviction, I’ll bet he still believes in Santa. He’s damn near managed by him.
I just think it’s sad how the commentators only talk about the team that’s ahead. By the sixth inning, Derek Jeter’s Yankee hit record or the games won with and without A-Rod were old news. And before we knew it Jayson Werth was touted as the best athlete on the team.
Hey, Cliff, you hear that? How’s that for a kick in the all-around pants. But they were discounting contributions on a regular basis last night. They even said Ryan Howard was the MVP of the NLCS but Alex Rodriguez could have been the MVP of the ALCS…
Wait. Do they compare apples to oranges in the big apple? I’ll bet that statement makes Sabathia feel all warm and fuzzy. That guy pitches on short rest and they’re already discounting his MVP award. He might as well pee his pants in the dark—it’ll give him a warm feeling but no one will ever notice.
I’m actually surprised I didn’t hear anyone whine that this should have been a series between the Dodgers and the Yankees. I guess sore sports do know boundaries.
So, shutouts, shut ups, or sit downs, the most important thing is the Game One winner has gone on to win the World Series for the past six years.
Let’s make that seven.