Curses! Foiled again. Phil Hughes had it going on for a minute there and then by the middle of the game it all fell apart for him and the Yanks--hits, errors (I'm looking at you, Mr. Rodriguez), walks and more hits, and the O's busted this one open like a split melon rotting in the sun. They scored seven runs in the seventh, and ruined a perfectly tolerable game. Still, I watched the entire thing. It was long, it was ugly, it was Baltimore, but fortunately, it was just one game. O's 8, Yanks 2. Today is a new day.