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The New York Yankees made a pass on Mike Trout’s life

There was a baseball game played in the Bronx last night. Sadly, what should have been an electrifying game came nowhere near the game’s biggest story when everything was said and done. The apple of America’s eye, the Los Angeles Angels, were in town to take on the best team in baseball, the New York Yankees.

In the top of the 9th, with one man on and one out, Yankees closer, Clay Holmes, did something that would land your everyday civilian in prison off the coast of the nearest Banana Republic. Feeling that Mike Trout, the bad man with the stick in his hand, was destined to do something that would have the baseball world clamoring for days on end, Mr. Holmes threw a fastball with kinetic energy enough to blow a hole through a Bowser shell. Impressive. Or maybe not.

That seems like the most New York Yankees thing to do

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In the blink of an eye that baseball found the elbow of the heartbeat of the Angels organization and sent him to the ground as if the Empire State had been dropped on his head. An unspeakable act. Now I know the Yankees are humming right along, and fans all across the country are buzzing over it, but guess what, forget the Dodgers; the Halos are playing the best baseball west of the Mississippi. They’ve got star power, they’ve got a unicorn, and they win games any way they have to. The biggest fault they possess is that they aren’t draped in Dodger Blue. And for that reason, they should be protected like the game of baseball as we know it was conceived by a manager in Anaheim at Angel stadium. The team is electric.

Sure, the New York Yankees are the New York Yankees, but to throw at Trout solely because you know that thing was going 450 dead center faster than 22-year-old Tik Tok addicts seeing Miles Teller at a Starbucks is inexcusable. Even for the Bronx. Now I’m sure Clay Holmes is a good guy, so I’ll give him a pass this time around, but man, oh man, we have to start protecting our stars. The Angels have swept our great nation off its feet this season, and to have all of that soiled for a game, the Halos were bound to steal on June 2nd?

As a Detroit Tigers fan, things have been going not so well.

I have had my baseball heart rejuvenated by spending a few SoCal evenings at Angels stadium. Folks, the place gets LIVE. It feels like a lightning rod to my sweet grapes being in a winning environment like that. Everyone is laughing, cheering, and feeling a winning vibe.

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People probably don’t expect the Angels to put together anything special when the Orioles come to town on a Tuesday night, but I’ve been there, and it does have an effect on you. It means that team is winning, but everyone goes home happy. There’s a little fairy dust that rubs off on you watching Shohei Ohtani round those bases.

I’m sitting here now, six months of living in California, six weeks of poor Tigers baseball, and six Angels games attended later, telling you that I think I’m slipping into being a bit of a Halos fan. It feels impossible not to. Like eying the box of Cheez-Its half an edible deep; what will I do? Not eat the Cheez-Its? For the love of God, I think I’m pretty great, but I’m not Superman.

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Going to that park has been a treat all year long, and to be quite frank, I’m salivating at the thought of a playoff run. Those dirty Yankees tried taking that from me. I’ll never forget that.

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Written by Nick Bradley

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