Enemy Perspective

Back when I was in high school, I was not the tremendously handsome man you now see before you (or would if we had photos like a real paper). I was short and awkward, which meant that girls didn’t pay much attention to me. I also went to a small school, and I’m pretty sure I got turned down by every girl at some point.

So when I met a girl from another high school who appeared to notice me, I was willing to do anything to encourage her. Problem was, she was from the middle of nowhere in upstate New York, an hour away, and I shared a car with my sister. So I couldn’t visit the girl very often.

I had a genius idea to fix this problem: I’d set a friend of mine up with a friend of hers. Of course, my friend Mark fell into the same category as me (smart and dorky) so we was willing to consider the arrangement. One upside of Mark was that he had a car.

The downside of Mark was that he loved country music. I hated it.

He was doing me a monstrous service by driving me to my only chance of getting laid before college, so I didn’t argue his choice of music. Let’s just say we listened to a LOT of Garth Brooks. Some of Garth’s songs I even—gulp—ended up liking.

One of the songs I hated was “Unanswered Prayers.” It’s a cheesy sack of shit song about how sometimes things that you wish would happen don’t, and in the end you’re better off for it. As a high school kid, you can’t appreciate that sentimental bullshit.

I bring this song up for two reasons: Susan H. and Eric Gagne. You know the latter, but the former was the girl I was driving to see all those times. Ironically, I never reached the top of the mountain, if you know what I mean, because Susan was very religious and planned to “save herself for marriage.” I spent just about every night trying to break her down and “praying” it would happen, and it never did. (It got so bad that the car, which was blue, got nicknamed “blue balls” by my friends.)

We broke up, and a couple years later I heard about Susan from a mutual friend: Susan slept with the very next guy she dated after me, got pregnant, and had a kid.

Of course, my first reaction was to be offended: it wasn’t that she didn’t want to have sex; she just didn’t want to have sex with me. But my second reaction was relief. I was 17 when we were dating, and if I had had a kid my life would have effectively been over. Unanswered Prayers.

Then there’s Eric Gagne. The biggest thing the Yankees needed at the deadline this year was relief pitching. They didn’t need the .232 bat of Wilson Betimit, even if the deal saved Scott Proctor’s career. (Joe Torre was going to drive him out of the game.) They needed relief help, and the deadline passed without the Yankees getting any, much like the 17-year-old me in upstate New York.

The big name on the block was Gagne, he of the 89-odd saves in a row, a proven closer, a shut-down guy who would bolster any pen. Brian Cashman refused to give up the Yankees’ top three prospects (Phil Hughes, Joba “The Hut” Chamberlain, and Ian Kennedy) for him. I was happy about that, but thought the Yankees could have put something on the table to get Gagne, even if it was George Steinbrenner’s brain in a box.

Of course, Boston snaked the former Dodger at the last minute. By all accounts (mine included) Gagne was the final piece of the puzzle. Gagne-Okajima-Papelbon. That’s the game, that’s the pennant, and that’s probably a World Series.

But that is also, as they say, why the play the games. Eric Gagne is why they play the games.

I’m not sure how to describe Gagne’s performance over the past couple weeks, but as a Yankees fan, I’m going to go with “hilarious.” It’s been friggin hilarious. I know that’s mean. I know my friend Tim almost put his remote through his TV when we were watching the Sox game at his house and Gagne blew the game against the Angels. That was kind of hilarious too, actually.

As of this writing, the Yankees are four back in the A.L. East. Before I talk about what I couldn’t have seen coming, let me first pat myself on the back for absolutely nailing my prediction in my article at the All-Star break that the Yankees would be five out when they finished their recent string against sub-.500 teams.

What I couldn’t have predicted was Eric Gagne. If you ever wanted proof that the A.L. East is by far and away the best division in baseball—and the hardest one to play in—look no further than Eric Gagne. He’s having a lights out season in Texas, then puts on a Red Sox uniform and suddenly he’s a right-handed Alan Embree.

I’m also enjoying that the Sox gave up a good young lefty in Gabbard. You don’t give up young, capable starting pitching, and certainly not lefties. That might be the biggest blow to the Sox over the long term, when Gagne walks in free agency this offseason.

I’m sure Gagne will turn it around—he’s too good not to—but for now, I feel good knowing that every night he pitches the Yankees have a chance to gain ground.

I was praying the Yanks would get Gagne at the deadline. But as Mr. Brooks so eloquently put it with his over-the-top twang, sometimes you have to thank God for unanswered prayers.

Personally, I’ll thank God that I’m not living in the middle of nowhere in upstate New York with a kid. Man, did I dodge a bullet on that one.