Yes, I finally agree with all the naysayers and killjoys. The Subway Series is boring. Take today's ho-hummer for example.
Just another 8-3 win [1] over some run-of-the-mill opponent from wherever.
Just another well-supported Steve Trachsel victory, his fifth in a row. He says he's fine despite the talk about his groin; I'd prefer not to talk about his groin at all.
Just another angst-free Billy Wagner 1-2-3 ninth. He says he's fine no matter what his ankle looked like at the end (and you can always trust a pitcher to tell the truth [2] about his anatomy).
Just another cacophony of clutchy clouts from the Castros, Lo Ducas and Marreros, the heart of our clever tri-catcher attack.
Just another day of All-Star play from our, at last check, All-Star left side of the infield.
Just another cleaners [3]–taking [4] of Randy Johnson. More starch for his collar, please.
Just another afternoon of heads-up baseball, replacing this week's unfortunate heads-up-their-asses version of the sport. Of course it helps to face more Melky and much less Coco.
Just another triumph over the Yankees, our ninth in the last fourteen contests against them, clinching, for a third straight year, nothing worse than a tie in the six-game Subway set.
But who cares about such a detail? No, nothing interesting about beating the Yankees, nothing at all. Just business as usual.
Good business to be in, though.