The Tim McCarver Anger Scale.

It's October again, which means one thing: Yankees baseball on FOX. And I really, really, really hate the Yankees. I don't think anyone outside of Boston can totally understand this. Well, I tuned in a couple nights ago to see if the Tigers could pull a game in New York. I lasted all of a half-inning before I had to turn it off. (It was the inning where the Yankees went up 5-0. As it turns out, I'm the guy who pushed that train wreck off a cliff. Sorry.)

I'm a good Christian guy. Seriously. I go to church, read my Bible, try to practice what I believe, work at a Christian organization. And yet not even I can keep my cool watching FOX's coverage of postseason baseball. It wasn't more than five minutes before I started dropping f-bombs. And as I stewed over this, trying to work up the nerve not to watch anything more than what the Twins were involved in, I tried at--and I believe succeeded in--getting to the bottom of what makes me so angry about the Yankees.

These are some of the reasons: I've endured so freaking many Yankees playoff victories. They buy their championships. FOX makes a point of showing celebrities in the stands, second only to the coke-huffing gaggle that shows up to Lakers games. The celebrities in the stands don't care nearly as much as you care about your team. But I've boiled my anger down to one main reason, and if you read the title you're already hip to this:

Tim McCarver.

[One moment, please... overcoming urge to flip a table...]

The guy makes me unspeakably angry, like an old-school video game that you were sure was rigged. He is about as impartial as Joe McCarthy. I can't stand hearing the man speak, and if you haven't had the pleasure, allow me to summarize: "Mkddkfp ksldhqw lkdg wlkheep dkwh." [See, he can't talk because he's too busy sucking the Yankees' collective... well... you know...] And in an effort to quantify my anger, I've decided to invent the Tim McCarver Anger Scale (or TMAS). On this scale, an average postseason game that McCarver announces rates a 10, and other angering experiences are rated in relation to that. Here are some examples:

1. Your favorite sports columnist picks the Buffalo Bills over the Minnesota Vikings. You are a die-hard (stress on the die part) Vikes fan. TMAS Score: 4.1. Of course, when it turns out he's right, you score a 3.8 on the Brett Favre Regret Scale.

2. A center fielder you've been cheering for for years finally hits the 30 HR plateau, and seems poised to lead your team to the World Series. Then, in the playoffs, he misplays a line drive which leads to an in-the-park home run. Initial TMAS Score: 7.7. Once you've settled down and realized that this same guy has single-handedly won many games with his defense, your TMAS Score evens out at about 2.0.

And 10 isn't necessarily the top end of the scale.

3. After game seven of the 2003 ALCS (Boone's walk-off machete job), somehow Tim McCarver magically shows up at your front door. Upon answering the door, he promptly kicks you in the nuts, and as you're doubled over in pain, he points at you and yells, "Yankees, b&#ch!" and runs away giggling. TMAS Score: 12-28. (The high end of the scale is largely unquantifiable by any standard.)

But zero isn't necessarily the bottom end of the scale either.

4. In the 2004 ALCS when A-Rod sissily hits the ball out of Arroyo's glove, MLB has enacted some of my new rules to baseball and Arroyo is allowed to go mano a mano against Rodriguez right then and there. The concurrent melee is so one-sided that it's not enough to knock A-Rod out of the game, but his face is so disfigured that he looks more like Sloth from the Goonies than an actual person. He loses his endorsements and whatever chance of sleeping with impossibly hot women he ever had. But later in the game, in his next at-bat, Pedro is called in for the sole purpose of enacting another new baseball rule, pitching at the new Target Crotch Shot Zone. And Pedro won't miss his spot when he's aiming for A-Rod's crotch. As he's doubled over in pain, an avid fan rushes out of the stands, dragging McCarver with him, and spits on the both of them. TMAS Score: -380000.

This is very helpful on a practical level. For instance, if you come home from a poker game for the inevitable fight with the Mrs., and she says the inevitable, "You just make me so angry sometimes," you can ask, "How angry?" And she actually can say, "9.2." Then you know you're in trouble.

Go ahead, you now have permission to thank me.