Here's what happens to you, Dear Reader, after A Certain Age: you start to fall asleep on games.
This happened to me last night with the Angles-Yankees, which eliminated the chance to crank off a list of snarky goodness over how the game was a classic case of two managers seeing who could over-manage the game more, and thanking Mike Scoscia for injecting drama into the proceedings by pulling John Lackey for Darren Oliver, or how between the Vladdy Daddy and Bobby Abreu, I'm certain that the Angels would totally dominate your weekend softball league.
But all of that went by the boards, and I wound up waking up to a "Seinfeld" rerun an hour after the game ended. (Julia Louis-Dreyfus in HD? No favors.)
I'd like to tell you that this is a new occurrence, a sign of te ...
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