Sean B. Fitzgerald It doesn’t go something like this, it goes exactly like this.

By the way

I'm trying my best not to talk about the Yankees and their upcoming playoff series with whoever, whether it be the Detroit Tigers or Minnesota Twins. Because, like I've said a thousand times, I could care less about their 103 wins, their high-powered offense, their solid bullpen, or deep bench. I've read this book before. And I know how it ends.

Badly.

So I'm walking into these playoffs differently this year. In an attempt to keep my mental health intact for the next month, I will expect nothing from the New York Yankees from this point on until the end of the playoffs.

Right now, it's all gravy. A 27th World Series Championship? Terrific. A loss in the first round? So what. They had a great year. (Resisting the urge to begin a 4,000 word diatribe discussing their high payroll, mismanagement of Joba Chamberlain, and choking in clutch situations).

Over the past few weeks, I've heard from too many Yankee fans that this team is different from the past years and they'll do well in the playoffs now. At least, that's what I thought I heard. By the time I heard "It's going to be different...", I sprinted in the other direction, covering my ears and yelling, "La la la la la".

I don't need that optimism. We fans have been optimistic for too long. Optimism has gotten us nowhere. It's time to be humble and expect nothing.

That's how I'm going to approach these playoffs. I feel it will be most rewarding. And I won't want to rip out my pubes when A.J. Burnett can't get out of the third inning in Game 2.