Friday night. Yankee Stadium. The last year of it’s life. Johan Santana (the Mets new and highly compensated ace) on the mound. What could be better?
The joy of local match-ups bewteen old rivals (or derby games as us Brits call them) is that they utterly transcend the almost perfect current mediocrity of the participants. The Yanks have the 9th best record in the American League, the Mets the 6th best in the National League. On the night, however, none of this will matter. Pitch by pitch, hit by hit, error by error the game will assemble itself and for a few hours for 55,000 fans the center of the known universe will be located.
For the curious Brits the game will be played under American League rules to the disadvantage of the Mets. Mr. Santana also happens to be handier with a bat in his hand than most pitchers yet will not be required as the American League allows the use of designated hitters who show up each time the pitcher is due to bat and do it for him. Regardless the triumph will be ours.
Let’s go Mets.