When the Yankees traded for the Great Satan a year and a half ago, I recounted how he was responsible for the two most emotionally devastating losses I've experienced as a baseball fan:

• 1995 ALDS Game 5: The first taste of postseason baseball for Yankees fans my age (1981 doesn't count for then-8-year-olds), those five games were 1,000 times more intense than any I'd ever had a rooting interest in. Our clutch shortstop, Randy Velarde, hit .176. Among the pitchers who logged innings against the Mariners: Scott Kamieniecki, Steve Howe and rookie Mariano Rivera, who posted a 5.51 ERA in 67 regular-season innings.

• 2001 World Series Game 7: A changed baseball world in a changed America. Heavy, heavy emotions involved here, as the run of impossible privilege went poof. I could not speak afterward, and I do better than most with this sports stuff. I celebrate wins way more than lament the losses, but this one hurt. Does the Hall of Fame have the ball Luis Gonzalez crushed 110 feet for the game-winner?

The Great Satan, whom many of you know as Randy Johnson, got both wins in improbable relief appearances, finishing both series with a 5-0 record and a 1.65 ERA, allowing 5 runs on 14 hits in 27 1/3 innings. He struck out 35 Yankees. Thirty-five fucking strikeouts, compared to 14 hits. He was, in short, the devil.

Now here's merely the tallest, ugliest and most overpaid No. 5 starter in the history of baseball. The Yankees are 5-5 when he takes the mound with his now-5.62 ERA, this after last year's 6.14 ERA in the ALDS loss to the Angels.

If the Bombers miss the postseason this year, at least one of 'em will be playing golf in hell. Maybe Kevin Brown will be around for a twosome.