I'm not gonna lie to you. If Andy Pettite, back in Yankees' pinstripes in the major leagues for the first time since 2010, had won yesterday afternoon, I'd have insisted it was the sports story of the year, or at the very least the month but would have settled for the day.
But he didn't-he pitched very well (aside from two pitches in six and a third (not a tenth) innings)) but the run support was lacking and the story, instead, was Kevin Millwood's initial victory of the season and first one overall since the dove came back to Moses with an olive branch in his beak.
I was hoping the Red Sox would lose to the Indians, because schadenfreude ist auch eine freude, but the Indians refused to oblige me, despite my fanatical devotion to all two hundred and forty three Major League movies that have ever been made (it's amazing Charlie Sheen didn't go off the rails years earlier).
I'm thinking, because I love soccer nearly as much as I love baseball, that between Borussia Dortmund's thrashing of Bayern Munich in the Deutsche Fussball Bund Pokal Final and Manchester City capturing the English Premier League title for the first time in forty-four years, perhaps all the joy right now is on the other side of the Atlantic. And every once in a while, that's okay. Andy will be back and will win and there will be great rejoicing in the House of Steinbrenner. But that theme song needs a major reworking, seriously.
-bill kenny
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