Recap: A's Sleepwalk Through 4-2 Loss To Yanks

Oakland faced New York -
The sun shone brightly at the
House That Jeter Built.

The Captain looked on,
Hobbled, forced to watch Nunez
Hit like Mendoza.

Bartolo Colon,
Hungry for innings, but no -
He'd be left wanting.

The strikes flow like wine
When Bartolo takes the mound -
Dry cellars today

Of seventy-three,
Only forty-six were strikes -
Yet no free passes.

But O! Cruel fate.
Missed locations did him in;
Mistakes were punished.

It was not Cano,
Nor Wells or Hafner either -
New heroes arose.

Chris Freaking Stewart,
First a Giant, now a Yank -
Bat made of string cheese.

And Lyle Overbay?
A Spring Training Afterthought,
Power sapped with age.

Two unlikely flints
Shooting sparks, first left, then right -
Souvenirs for fans.

Peasants feast like kings
When pitches plump like meatballs
Lie square on the plate.

Two runs to zero
With five frames in the scorebook;
The Damn Yankees lead.

Phil Hughes goes to work -
Pitch count soars like an eagle,
But no runs come in.

Jaso's first at-bat.
The ball yearns for bleacher seats -
Ichiro denies.

Baserunners abound -
The first five innings each see
Ducks left on the pond.

Hittable fastballs
Fall harmlessly into mitts -
Yet A's fans keep hope.

Sixth, seventh, and eighth,
Nine straight hitters take their hacks;
Hughes retires the side.

While Athletics flail,
Cano and Pronk come alive -
Another run scores.

Bartolo is stuffed.
He's had enough of this meal -
Blevins gets the scraps.

Eighteen K's, One walk;
Bart and Blev bear resemblance
Only in the stats.

Blevins slams the door,
But Resop can't keep it locked -
It opens once more.

The Captain now smiles;
His replacement has come through.
Nunez has tripled.

The drive by Nunez,
Overrun by Cespedes,
Could have been just two.

With only one out,
Stewart lifts a fly to right;
Nunez tags from third.

Alas, Reddick's arm
Delivers a bullet home -
Nunez holds steady.

Messy landscaping.
The infield needs a Gardner -
Brett answers the call.

Back up the middle -
Rosales dives for the ball,
But comes up empty

The lead now doubled;
Four runs trump a lunch made of
Goose eggs and donuts.

Now the Oakland teAse.
A Cespy leadoff single
Summons Rivera.

Forty-three years young,
Yet he hasn't lost a step -
Bats will be broken.

Moss looks at strike three,
But briefly receives mercy -
Umpire says "Ball Four."

Now a fielder's choice
Retires the Bringer of Rain;
One out recorded.

Thmith thingles thquarely,
Thcoring Thethpedes thimply,
Thtopping the Thutout

Where is Reddick's bat?
His glove has robbed a homer,
His arm held a run.

He bounces to short:
A tailor-made double play,
But he beats it out.

Glove and arm and speed
All are among the game's best -
Yet, .138.

Once a free swinger,
Now 14 walks to 12 hits -
Patience a virtue?

Rosales steps up!
Shades of Marco Scutaro;
One swing can tie it

The ball jumps skyward,
But there's no happy ending -
Rosey has flown out.

Disappointing game.
Bats fell flat, pitching subpar -
Not paths to success.

Contest decided,
The series tied at one each,
Now a rubber match.

There is the beauty!
Tomorrow brings a new game -
And sweet redemption.

Straily and Pettitte
Square off around 1:05.
Nico has your Thread.