Yanks 6, White Sox 5

This one took something out of me--all the anticipation, such high stakes.

I first caught the score while picking up food at Buffalo Wild Wings, 2-0 Pale Hose, on a big screen in the bar. I mention the because the Yankees sometimes have this tendency, for about five or six games in a row, to fall behind early and stay there. It happens three or four times a season. Call it a funk. Something about the vibe of the game seemed to indicate that this was not only one of those games but one of those trends.

But no, while waiting for my food something interesting happened. One out, Jeter doubles. Ex-Yankee Contreras essentially intentionally walks Giambi. (No pitch was within a foot of the strike zone.) For a right-hander like Contreras, this is probably the smart move--except that A-Rod is on deck. Wow, I thought, is this how low A-Rod has sunk.

A few innings later, I'm home. That kid Guiel (pronounced "Guile," right? I had the crummy White Sox announcers off) hits his first Yankee home run. Unit, who had been brilliant since the second inning, runs into trouble in the seventh. Tie score.

Eighth inning, Kardiac Kyle Farnsworth. Two things here. First, sending set-up man Fansworth out was Joe Torre's way of saying "We will score in the ninth."

Second, three up, three down. I nearly fell out of my chair.

Bottom of the eighth: Melky! And others! 6-3 Yanks.

Top of the ninth: I turn the sound back on. Something tells me that out-of-town announcers heap priase on Mo Rivera ("Probably the best of all time," "Harder on lefthanders than righthanders," "You know, sometimes switch hitters bat right-handed against him blah blah blah") just to put the hex on him. This time, it worked. Thome manages a bat-snapping quail into the outfield, inches from diving Damon's glove. Two clean singles follow. Grounder to Phillips: one out, one run. A nifty climbing-the-wall-in-foul territory catch by Crosby: same deal. 6-5.

Now the worst kind of melodrama: A.J. Pierzynski, of whom his own manager once said, "If he's on the other team, you hate him. But if he's your teammate, you hate him less." Tying run on third. Mo goes 1-2 on A.J., who fouls off the next six pitches before flying out to Crosby.

The late stages in this game were like drawing an 11 against a 5, doubling down, drawing a face card for a 21, then watching the dealer go 5-10 for a 20. You won. But you didn't think you'd need every inch of what you had.