NEW YORK — Here are a few questions for the Average Joe who just spent an indelible night in the cheap seats at Yankee Stadium, hoping against hope for the kind of magic that unfolded before his eyes:
Did you ever feel sorry for the man with a $360 million contract?
Did you ever weigh Aaron Judge’s October failures and find room in your heart for a compassionate take on the captain of this storied team?
Advertisement
Did you ever fear that this liberating night would never come for an all-time great?
Long before Judge put on a master class Tuesday night in how to play an impossibly difficult game under sudden-death pressure, taking his heavy lumber to the notion that he can’t manage the demands of the postseason, this much was clear:
The Big Man was a cross between Paul Bunyan and Babe Ruth, a mythological figure in the flesh. Nobody has ever looked better in pinstripes.
Nobody has ever looked better stepping off the bus.
Judge might win his third American League MVP award in four seasons.
Continue Reading on New York Times
This preview shows approximately 15% of the article. Read the full story on the publisher's website to support quality journalism.