"I dreamt I saw Phil Oakes last night". So sung Billy Bragg in his 1990 homage to fallen socialist idolatry "The Internationale".
I dreamt I was Johnny Damon last night. I dreamt it was the eighth inning with bases loaded. I dreamt it was postseason at Yankee stadium. I dreamt that the hopes of the good and the righteous rested upon my belocked shoulders and that
i was about to tie the game and the series. I dreamt that I dreamt about getting a haircut or shaving. The dream was good. It's the closest i'll ever come to actually playing in the postseason. I was just about to dream on when I was attacked by a mysterious killer bug inflicting it's last wish upon my sleepy flesh. I leapt out of bed, swatted about a bit, woke up Beth and eventually succumbed to a Benedryl enhanced sleep.
I was Johnny Damon, I was.