Joe Girardi Emotes Like a Roomba

In watching last night's ALCS finale, in which my friend and I exulted over the Yankees' playoff elimination, we couldn't help but notice Joe Girardi's utter lack of emotional expression over the game's many meltdown moments.

Phil Hughes implodes? Calmly walk to mound and slowly tap forearm to signal for reliever.

David Robertson lasts a third of an inning and his ERA is 16.20? Turn in x-mo to the dugout phone and request that someone please begin throwing. Gingerly replace phone receiver on its cradle.

Robinson Cano grounds into a double play? Que sera, sera.

Curtis Granderson gets nipped trying to steal second? La di da, these things will happen.

Team is 0-3 with RISP? Come come now, kiddies, no cause for consternation.

Seriously, I never saw his breathing accelerate one iota, never saw his facial muscles constrict, never saw a blood vessel pop out, never saw his jaw set, never saw a flush of red rise up his neck and spread over his cheeks.

Now, here is my question to you. Was Girardi actually devoid of frustration, rage or angst, or was he maintaining a rock-solid poker face, but roiling on the inside all the while?

Get a load of the ultimate irony. In a post-game interview, the FIRST question posed to Girardi is:

"Can you just start, first of all, by expressing your feelings about the game, and your season?"

Did you not see automaton in action the whole game? Feelings?? What feelings? If he did have any, he sure as shootin' aint sharin' 'em with you, partner.

Hey Joe, maybe it would help your players once in a while to see a little fire or ice, you know? You could try it out...next year. If the Yankees retain your services. Ha.