Well, another Sox-Yanks series is upon us, and I for one can’t help but feel a sense of fatigue. This season, for whatever reason, has felt like a tremendous slog. Whether it’s the erratic play, the injuries (yes, Yankees fans, the Sox have had injuries too!), the early start in Japan, this year has felt longer than the 130 games that our team has contested to date. I am guessing that many Yankee fans feel similarly; their season has been riddled with disappointment (young starters, injuries, a middling – at least so far – sendoff to the House that Ruth Built). And tonight our two teams square off again, probably for the last time in old grounds in the Bronx. But for some reason, I just can’t get myself too excited. Perhaps it’s the fact that the Sox are sending Tim Wakefield to the mound tonight and Paul Byrd tomorrow, the first pitcher a perennial punching bag for the Yankees, the second a player who I simply dislike. And perhaps it’s that these two teams now face each other so many times a year that the rivalry has become devalued, a ton of hype surrounding what has effectively become a regular event. It has become an enervating task, to get oneself up for another Yankee-Red Sox game, outside this site the vitriol will once again elevate to a point that I no longer find comfortable or commensurate with these regular season games. This may sound crazy, but it would almost be nicer if our teams were in fourth and fifth place, fighting for nothing, and we all could watch the games for the sport of it, rid ourselves of the overlying tension of the rivalry and the zero-sum nature of the results.
Tonight, if I do watch, I think am just going to watch the baseball and forget all the other stuff. It’s making me tired.