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Heightened Expectations (Or, Spoiled By Winning)

April 18, 2011

From the moment Nelson Cruz’s bat flailed fruitlessly through the strike zone, I knew this year would be different. At first I worried that with the brass ring in hand, the merry-go-round wouldn’t be as much fun. But a few (dozen) drinks and a few days of reflection quickly disabused me of that notion: if anything, winning the World Series made me hungrier, greedier.

This aint no brass ring, bitch.

It also made me harder to please. I’m like a kid who grew up eating Toffuti Cuties and then one day got to try an It’s-It. There’s no going back now. I want more. More!

So in a series loaded with positives, including two wins, all I can think about is Tejada dropping a perfect throw from Posey that would have ended the eighth and quite possibly led to a sweep. (I suppose you could toss in Zito going on the DL as another negative, but honestly I’m pulling for Vogelsong.) And now I’m looking ahead to the series at Coors, where two out of three should logically leave me jumping for joy, and I know that if the Giants lose even once, that’s the game that’ll be gnawing at my brain.

So this is what it feels like to be a Yankees fan. It’s worth it for the sweet, sweet oatmeal cookie-vanilla ice cream-dark chocolate goodness — but at a certain level, soy-based dairy substitute is bliss.

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