The Guardians are about to learn what it means to step into the house that Ruth built, even if it's being played in their own backyard, because Judge doesn't ask for permission, he takes what's owed to him.

Two runs through one inning against Cleveland's bullpen is basically a coronation, so we're already measuring the Canyon for confetti.

We're up 2-0 in the second inning and I'm already mentally planning the funeral because that's what it means to be a Yankees fan.

We're up one in the third and I'm already measuring the Canyon of Heroes because this is Yankees baseball and anything less than a championship is a coffin

The Guardians are about to learn why we don't call it the House That Ruth Built just to lose to expansion franchises in the fourth inning.

We're about to watch Jose Ramirez do something incredible that nobody will remember because the Yankees' payroll is twice ours and ESPN will spend the postgame talking about Aaron Judge's haircut anyway.

Down 2-nothing in the first to the Yankees and we're supposed to scratch and claw our way back with our shoestring budget while Ramirez carries five guys on his back like always—this ends the same way it always does.

We've been down two runs in the second inning about a thousand times and found a way, so unless the baseball gods finally got tired of us being scrappy little bastards, we're walking out of here with a W tonight.

We've been here before—down three runs in the third inning against the Yankees is just us sharpening our knives while they think they're already carving the turkey.

Look, we've been doing more with less for a decade, the Yankees are throwing money at this like it grows on trees, and Jose is about to remind New York what actual baseball intelligence looks like in the next three innings.