Must...Destroy...Boston...

I've got today off, so I have the rare pleasure of watching an entire Sportscenter (or two or three) this morning. A special extended article about the Yankee's Steinbrenner and Cashman was just on, and I was treated to my favorite scene from 2004 several times -- Cashman, up in his ivory tower, staring down at the field as the Red Sox celebrate the greatest comeback in the history of life. Just a great mixture of body language and facial expression -- not quite sheer contempt, not at all dumbfounded, somewhat deflated -- you'd have to invent a new emotion to describe Cashman at that moment. And we could use that new emotion to also describe what a kid feels like when some bully just beat the shit out of his dad, but the kid knows that he can't do anything about it (if his dad couldn't beat up the bully, then neither can he, so he can't even challenge the bully or call him names or anything), plus the kid's dad is going to be in a shitty mood for a month or so, which means no candy, in bed exactly at 8 p.m., and occasional physical abuse.