I always enjoy beating the Angels. Maybe it’s because they’ve given the Yankees so much trouble over the years when guys like Garret Anderson, Howie Kendrick and Chone Figgins drove us mad. Or maybe it’s because Mike Sciosca’s teams are supposed to be the kings of small ball and beat us with their scrappy play.
So it was especially sweet to win this weekend’s series against them, despite the addition of a healthy Pujols and his 500 home runs and despite the endless string of injuries to our players. (Solarte has a sore shoulder? Gardner has a sore foot? Billingsly, who was up in the majors for exactly five minutes, is on the DL already?)
Last night’s game was fun – tense, but fun. Everybody was saying how “off” Tanaka was. Really? I’ll take his “off” any day. True, he actually walked people and hit a batter, but how about all those strikeouts and how he never unravels? I think he’s turning into our ace, I really do, and when he pitches I have so much confidence that we’ll win the game. Of course, we couldn’t hit their flame thrower, but in the end we didn’t have to. We walked and passed-balled our way to enough runs to get it done.
And now we have the red hot Cano to look forward to. He’s been tearing it up for Seattle, so I’m sure he’ll be just as tough against the Yanks. It’ll be great to see him again, if bittersweet.