In his easy way, Joe picked up the basket of biscuits, offered it to the boy. “Oh, yeah, Mr. New York. Yankees or Mets?”
“Yankees.”
“Not a prayer.” As if in sympathy, Joe shook his head. “Not this year, kid.”
“We’ve got a strong infield, good bats. Sir,” he added as if he’d just remembered to.
“Baltimore’s already killing you.”
“It’s a fluke. They died last year, and they’ll fade this year.”
“When they do, the Red Sox will pounce.”
“Crawl maybe.”
“Oh, a smart-ass.”
Black Hills
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By Waz8 [CC0], from Wikimedia Commons
The Boston Red Sox can "Name That Tune" in one note, or so it seems, as they had the last word in musical taunting after knocking the New York Yankees out of the postseason in front of the home crowd at Yankee Stadium.
As the champagne bottles were popping in the Red Sox locker room after their 4-3 American League Division Series Game 4 clincher Tuesday night, the background music was Frank Sinatra singing "New York, New York," the song that echoes around Yankee Stadium after every game.
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The batter dropped a short single into left field, and she grabbed Thorpe's arm. "Oh, look, he hit one!"
"That's the wrong team, Liv," Thorpe pointed out wryly. "We're rooting for the other guys."
She accepted the hot dog and peeled off a corner on the packet of mustard. "Why?"
"Why?" he repeated, watching as she squeezed the mustard on generously. "The Orioles are from Baltimore. The Red Sox are from Boston."
"I like Boston." Liv took a healthy bite of the hot dog as Palmer whipped a mean curve by the next batter. "Shouldn't he have swung at that one?"
"Don't like Boston too loudly in this section," Thorpe advised.
Endings and Begginings
