Counting down... like on TV...
15. Players on hands and knees scooping dirt from the Yankee Stadium infield following the final game.
14. Kyle Farnsworth crying after learning he’s been traded.
13. Chien-Ming Wang rounding third, sprinting toward home.
12. Joe, marching to the mound with a long face, hand outstretched, preparing to the take the ball.
11. That Tampa Bay Ray asshole pulverizing Francisco Cervelli in a meaningless spring exhibition, breaking the young catcher’s wrist.
10. A-Rod walking back to the dugout, biting his lip, shaking his head, then glancing back at the pitcher who just fanned him.
9. Sweat cascading from Sidney Ponson’s forehead.
8. Pinch-runner Justin Christian picked off first, killing a potential ninth inning rally, in a crushing defeat.
7. Mike Mussina being hugged after recording the first 20th win of his great career.
6. Jason Giambi slapping his hands together, grinning behind his mustache, standing at second base, in one of his short-lived hitting streaks.
5. Johnny Damon crashing into the left field wall, injuring his shoulder, trying to make a great catch.
4. Bobby Abreu stopping and turning to watch a ball hit the right field wall.
3. Carl Pavano walking to the dugout after retiring the side in order, facing boos.
2. The great Mariano Rivera, doffing his cap to reveal a bald spot.
1. Derek Jeter at home plate, saying it’s the fans that made Yankee Stadium great, in the most memorable speech of his life, aside from the one he’ll make going into the Hall.
What did I miss?
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Counting down... like on TV...
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
(More sounds of destruction, followed by yelps of pain, and screams of agony. Suddenly, the distinct sound of a old, heavy wooden door slowly creaking open)
FLASH: Bomber brass hotly debating controversial song parody that could tarnish Yank-Redsock rivalry. Lyrics to follow.
(Warning: Those who might be offended by vulgarity, bad taste and horrible rhymes should NOT read further. Remember: This is meant to be a parody of a parody that would be written by Yankee management -- think cocktail napkin in the Tampa Horse Breeders Association lounge -- therefore the rhymes must be bad. Got that? See, the real funny thing here is that it's not funny. In that sense, it's brilliant, one of the funniest things you'll ever read, because it succeeds in being unfunny. But, hey, it was this or writing about Minka Kelly stealing Jeter from us -- they're buying a love shack in LA -- which makes her either the Yank Yoko Ono or the 2009 First Lady of the Yankiverse. Oh, fukit. Crunch time. You already got the joke, right? It's so unfunny you have to laugh. And if you are a Redsock fan, visit our special Lounge Link to the left, just for you. Where were we? Oh, yeah. The song...)
Youk, the tragic Redsock,
Batted three oh eight
And set up in the batters' box
Leaning out over the plate.
Little Roggie Clemens,
Loved that rascal Youk,
And plunked his noggin oh-so hard,
People felt it in Dubuque.
(Several heart-warming verses about life, throwing bats, and exchanging toys for performance enhancing drugs.)
The games go on forever,
Not so little boys,
So Roggie Clemens went away
To play with other toys.
Youk still hangs his head out
And won't let his spirits wain
He takes his thumps still in the bean,
From Joba Chamberlain.
Monday, December 29, 2008
1. Before Madonna, Alex Rodriguez dated Condoleezza Rice. Distress over her globe-trotting ways undermined his ability to hit with runners in scoring position.
2. The Japanese signed Darrel Rasner in hopes of unlocking the ultimate energy source. They want to learn how his 88-mile-an-hour fastball is converted into a titantic, 450-foot blast, the kind that could power an entire city.
3. Redsock Kevin Youkilis has a rare brain disease that requires a severe impact trauma to the skull periodically. If he does not receive a blow to the head during Yankee games, his own trainers must administer one with a shovel.
4. Hideki Matsui’s wife, whom the slugger took pains to shield from the public, turned out to be a man.
5. Before A-Rod, Madonna dated Condoleezza Rice. Her distress over world events undermined Madonna's ability to workout with runners in scoring position.
6. During the excavatons of Yankee Stadium, construction crews found the remains of the Broadway musical ‘Young Frankenstein."
7. After one big victory last April, John Sterling’s vocal chords became locked in a 38-minute "thu-u-u-uh", which ended only after Suzyn Waldman doused the veteran broadcaster with a cold bucket of Snapple. Doctors warned Sterling to keep all win-warbles at less than 8 seconds, or he will die during one.
8. Melky Cabrera, during a game against Oakland, astounded teammates by calculating Pi to the 190th digit in his head. Unfortunately, he went 0-4 with two strikeouts.
9. Bobby Abreu's wariness of walls stems from conception. Doctors say Bobby may have watched his twin brother die in the womb after crashing into the intestinal wall, while chasing a white blood cell.
10. The actual first phone call made after the death of Heath Ledger was not to Mary Kate. Before calling the supertwin, the house crew phoned for an update on the Yankee-Twins game.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Yankeetorial: We Must Tighten Security and Maintain the Watch Fires for Our Enemies Are More Dangerous than Ever
To the Yankiverse:
I am fear-blogging from paradise, unable to vacation fully due to the signing cease fire -- not one in the last week - and the sense that we will grow flabby from the constant masturbatory rethinking of our order (... oohh, Cano batting sixth, or Matsui, ahhhhh...?) Believe me: The Kansas City Royals fans are not sitting at home pleasuring themselves about who will bat third!
Go to Redsock terror sites -- I won't link for fear of driving up their commercial value -- and you'll see a simmering, festering, almost Christmassy giddiness that some gigantic trade is soon to come. They're planning to get Roy Halladay. They think the next great star in the heavens is someone named Lars Anderson. They're in their frathouses, poking pins into AJ Burnett dolls, and spitting wine coolers onto our likenesses.
Now is not the time to celebrate having won the 2009 World Series.
Bolted upright in my sleep with inner terror, I jotted down these notes, which I offer verbatim.
1. Feeeagents. (Translation: There are no more free agents worth sucking up to, unless we're talking about a Cody Ransom to compete with Cody Ransom.)
2. Htrrrrrrrrrrade. (We must prepare to outbid the Redsocks on any trade. I'm talking Halladay here. Before he hits the market, Theo Epstein will try to shoplift him. The Redsocks long ago built a wing in their Hall of Fame for Jacoby Ellsbury; they'd trade the bum in a heartbeat. They are starting to hype prospects in the way we've done -- (which is a good sign for us; hyping prospects is the best way to kill them.) But we have to be able to outbid them: Start with Swisher, add Melky, Kennedy and go from there.)
3. Important: Ga.. (Unfortunately, I cannot remember this thought. But I do believe it was critical. Damn.)
Filed over coffee in less than eight minutes.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Think about this, Yankiverse.
The season began with a Walmart temp crushed to death by coupon-clippers. It ended with Santa using a flame-thrower on his ex-family.
In the middle, wackos attacked India, George Bush dodged a shoe, the governor of Illinois got busted, and nobody went shopping.
Except, of course, us... the Yankees... the last true manifestation of American capitalism and hubris.
I'd like to insert here some wisdomtoid. I've none to give. Hopefully, by this time next year, a World Series ring will once again validate our lives. Then again, I remember that old Yiddish adage -- I think Whitey Fraud coined it, or maybe it was Shamus -- which says:
Want to make God laugh? Sign a free agent pitcher.
Oh, well. I'm off to a warmer place, family and all. A National Lampoon vacation. We thought of signing Andy Pettitte as spiritual guide, but he wanted $12 million.
Carry on, Yankiverse.
And if Santa rings the doorbell, run.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Here's what I want (since I already got a nice iPod Touch, gelt and nearly everything else I desire).
Written by our pal She-Fan, a goddess of the Yankee blogiverse.
Pre-order your own copy here. It ships just in time for pitchers and catchers!
Mr. Speaker, Mr. Chairman, President Levine, Governor Paterson, Pope Ratzinger, Coach Berra, Archduke Ferdinand, esteemed Gammonites and charter members of the Yankiverse...
First, let's note some great achievers.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Last year: Jason Giambi, $23.4 million
Next year: Mark Teixiera, $18 million
That leaves $5 million for the luxury tax.
(Insert Giambi waistline joke here.)
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
1. Jeet is landlocked at shortstop. We used to figure he'd migrate to first or third. Now, he plays short to the end of his career... or until we ditch Arod. (P.S. The Angels have a lot of unspent money!)
2. The Blue Jays will have to deal Roy Halladay. They've already been mathematically eliminated. We could offer Swisher, Hughes, Kennedy, maybe Chien-Ming Wang, maybe Robbie Cano, scads of money, women, hostages, drugs, whatever it takes. He's the best pitcher in baseball. What. Ever. It. Takes.
3. Each of our infielders just avoided 10 errors next year. In Cano's case, he just saved a longterm lease on his NYC loft.
4. We avoid drinking the hemlock known as Manny Ramirez. And Hank avoids a crushed eyesocket after failing to produce game tickets for 35 homies.
5. Brett Gardner/Melky Cabrera/Austin Jackson get to play center without having to hit their weights. The Braves can trade us Mike Cameron in exchange for Kei Igawa.
6. The Redsocks keep Mike Lowell -- 70-year-old hip and all -- at third.
7. We can finally stop crying when we think of Tino.
8. Jesus Montero, our best prospect, can learn to play catcher or be dealt. We could get a closer for him. We also have Austin Romine, another great catching prospect. Scouts say Montero will eventually play first. Not for us.
9. We return to our rightful status as the most eyeballed team in baseball. The Redsocks were claiming it. What a joke. And so what if we're hated? Even when we are liked, we are hated. Bring it on.
10. Lefties can't kill us. There's no Giambi, no Abreu. We could have three switch hitters in the order (Tex, Melky, Jorge.)
11. We now have two guys named Teixiera. (We got the other one, a minor league pitcher, in the Swisher-Betemit deal.) He spells his name the wrong way.
12. Instead of eight firstbasemen (Giambi, Betemit, Ensberg, Nady, Duncan, Sexon, Miranda, Ransom), one.
13. With Tex at first, we can get a flashy backup for Cano and Jeet, rather than the Wilson Betemits of the world, who should be playing noseguard for the Jets.
14. Piss off the Redsocks. GOD, I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE THEIR FACES. YAHHHHHHHH-HAH.
Two top-flight starting pitchers ... $255 million
Powerful switch-hitting first baseman with a good glove ... $180 million
Watching Redsock fans whine, scream, rant, curse and cry ... priceless
Do you see what I see...?
A star... a star... high up in the night...
He can hit both lefty and right.
He can hit both lefty and right.
And rib...And more head...
Monday, December 22, 2008
Congratulations, Hank Steinbrenner!
IT IS HIGH hereby respectfully requests a Q and A with Mr. Steinbrenner to congratulate him and discuss the future of humankind. Hank, it's up to you. Contact us at: email@example.com
Good luck with the horses in 2009!
Sunday, December 21, 2008
It's just a thought I had, while in a Captain Morgan's and egg nog induced coma this morning:
Have you taken a close look at the guns on this fine product of New Jersey? Jesus Mary and Joseph, I bet she has a better arm and more tools than Johnny Damon at this point.
Wonder if one year and a cool million would do it?
As promised last week, the final roll of film filled with photos from the It Is High, It Is Far, It Is... caught Christmas Party was found today. I immediately had the pics developed for all to enjoy.
A lot of folks emailed me to ask exactly where Hank Steinbrenner was during the CC/AJ presser at the old Yankees Stadium last week. This is the last known photograph of 'Hanka Claus'. If you need to rent a Santa for a Christmas party or whatnot, I highly advise calling Hanka. He was awesome at it.... Just make sure no kids or Redsock fans are around....
I didn't realize just how many members of the savvy New York media showed up. Here, Sweeny Murti (in the Betty Boop X-mas tee shirt) gets his groove on....
Of course, the It Is High Headquarters comes complete with an Olympic size pool. I don't know whats scarier: McNamee, Canseco and Clemens all in the same location at once, or P-Abe in a wet tee shirt....
My dog, Booney Boggs Brosius, spent a little too much time with Scooter the Squirrel. After the party, he checked himself in the Joba Chamberlain Rehabilitation Center, in Moose Breath, Nebraska....
Given to the man or woman who labored quietly for the Yankees throughout 2008, without receiving proper recognition.
Our "Santa's" 5.66 earned run average belies the fact that he came to be used only in runaways and against weak hitters. His giant bag of goodies included a rally almost every time he slid down the chimney to enter a game.
Ladies and gentlemen, the IT IS HIGH Secret Santa for 2008....
Thanks for everything. Hope to see you again in 2009.
Friday, December 19, 2008
From: Department of Infinite Truth Operations
Subject: Redsock Lies
Dear Madam or Sir,
By now, we should know never to trust a filthy Redsock.
Karim Garcia turned his back on a rake-wielding Fenway bullpen thug. He paid the price.
Don Zimmer believed Pedro Martinez would fight fair. He was wrong.
The Japanese trusted Boston not to sign baseball players before draft-age eligibiilty. Too bad for them.
Mo Vaughn put it this way: "To be lied to for all these years is something that is probably tough to take for the fans of New England."
Now, they claim they will not chase Mark Teixiera.
They are lying. They opening their mouths, looking us in the eyes, and telling falsehoods, the likes of which would make Condoleezza Rice return her shiny jackboots to Bloomingdales.
They must learn a life lesson.
Hal, Hank, Brian... Sign Mark Teixiera. We must bury them now. We must offer $180 million. Put the cash on the barrelhead. Don't let them get Teixiera for anything less than $200 million. In the last 10 years, they've made it a sport to bid up the price of our players, cackling in private while screaming in public about how much we overpaid.
Now, we're going to let them have the best free agent in baseball... without bidding?
And then we chase Manny?
No. No. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Hal, Hank, Brian... LISTEN!!!... They're playing you like a violin! Don't let them. Sign Teixiera! This is your Johan Santana moment. This is the deal you will spend the next 10 months explaining. Bury them. Make Teixiera an offer. WIN THE 2009 PENNANT NOW. It will not be cheaper at the trading deadline.
They literally begged one pitcher, CC Sabathia, to take more money than they originally offered, even though there was no real competition from other teams. Now they have to pamper Andy Pettitte and hope he will agree to accept a deal that reduces his pay from $16 million to $10 million per season - this after a poor season.
All of this is happening in a time when people are losing jobs and their hope. Americans have lost trillions from pension plans and the auto industry is on the verge of collapse, yet these baseball people are arguing over fortunes, totally oblivious about what goes on in the real world. It makes me ashamed to be a fan.
Michael A. Guerriero
Yankees Are Crazy
The New York Yankees are seeking $370 million, on top of the $965 million they already received, to help with construction of the new stadium. Yet, they sign CC Sabathia to a seven-year, $161-million US contract. That's insane.
December 18, 2008