The Past is Always With Us

As much as my heart beats truly and eternally for Derek Jeter & Co., I tend feel pretty pessimistic whenever they play the Red Sox. Going into last night's game, the Yanks were 0-5 against the Boston uglies in 2009. Before the game, a flurry of Yankees PR-type stories flooded my Twitter feed, promising that tonight would be different. But alas, the past is always with us and nothing ever changes.

Derek Jeter watches as Nick Green's homerun ball sky-rockets overhead...
who the f' is Nick Green? Yeah, that's kind of the point.

Mark Teixeira sings a sad, sad song into his silent bat

Unaware that a baseball game is being played,
dimwitted A-Rod attempts to eat his face

A.J. Burnett gave up three earned runs on five walks and five hits in less than three innings. He also kicked the dugout water cooler on his way out of the game. He was mad. I was, too. Josh Beckett, on the other hand, allowed only one hit in six innings. The Red Sox won 7-0 after the surprisingly attractive Nick Green hit what was probably the first and last home run of his professional career in the 7th inning. ESPN noted that Boston hadn't beaten New York six straight times "since the year the Titanic sank." Good Lord.

Tonight, the Yanks will rise again to die another death at Fenway. I refuse to watch or listen. What, really, is the point? "Can't [escape] the past? Why, of course you can!" That's what Gatsby should have said when he broke that clock at Nick Carraway's house. The statement is equally tragic and more correct. As we know, it all concludes with unreachable green lights on distant docks, black hills rolling silently across the Republic, the end of wonder, and boats borne back ceaselessly into the voracious, all-consuming, insatiable past.