Saturday, April 30, 2011
Box seats & suites going fast for epic Yankee Stadium show with Slayer, Anthrax, Megadeth and Metallica
Book your corporate suites now, gamers, because HELL is coming to the House that JUDAS Built!
WTF? Yankee fans, it's your chance to see the real band behind Mariano's love theme! Plus, you'll see Rudy "The Unforgiven" Giuliani in his famous front row seat. And the guy down front, with his bitch on his shoulders, flicking her pod -- that's Hank Steinbrenner!
And don't forget the Yankee Stadium disco lounge: You better believe the Goldman-Sachs luxury box will be bumping up and down! With special host John Sterling, adapting Metallica deathriffs to Yankee homerun calls. "ENTER GRANDYMAN." As for the finale: Athrax will feature singers Suzyn Waldman and Marilyn Manson for a jam medley of "Damn Yankees" show tunes!
Be there... or be DEAD.
The end is near.
Rochester homeowner Gwen Byrd is scared to go into parts of her own home in the dark. She says a frightening-looking animal has been under her porch all winter long and may have dug a tunnel through the walls of her house.
The rodent-like animal is wrinkled, hairless and "walks like a dog." And it has lived there for at least two years.
Wrinkled, hairless, walks like a dog, and makes tunnels. Hmmm. Alphonso?
Friday, April 29, 2011
April 27th was the anniversary of Babe Ruth Day at the stadium
Hallelujah! The NFL draft runs three nights in primetime, so we can watch six hours of commercial crapola in the middle of a labor dispute
The draft. Shoot me. Worst part is these breathless clowns who flitter about in complete denial of the fact that owners and players are in a mudwrestling dispute that, in comparison, would make Alfred E. Newman vs. Homer Simpson look like the Lincoln-Douglas debates. That's right, folks -- it's THE LOCKOUTS vs. THE HOLDOUTS. Who will win? Should we care? And we're supposed to watch? We're supposed to validate this criminal greed-fest?
Yeeesh. We get on Bud Selig's case a lot. (As well we should.) But this crap makes the MLB All-Star Home Run Derby look like the last episode of MASH. Where's that show where the washed-up celebrities relive their ghost experiences? At least that show has a little taste and integrity, while they trade remembrances of their favorite aunt for a last snatch of network face-time. (And mark my words: Sometime soon, somebody's going to see a ghostly vision of Bob Barker!)
Screw the NFL. Turnabout is fair play. No?
4. Friday eMailbag
When I wrote, in regards to Derek Jeter's tiff with Alex Rodriguez, "You mean 'Captain' is supposed to mean something in sports?" Subscriber R.M. wrote, "Maybe it would mean something if it was a title given by the teammates as opposed to bestowed by the owner."
Len seems to carefully gauge the fair-weather mood of fickle sports' fans as a GPS to plant his tongue in the right warm spot. Current case in point with the new biography that points to the Captain's flaws. Yes, Derek is not the god we would like him to be and yes he's looking pretty bad so far this year. But let's not forget all that he is done and let's not forget that no mater how poorly he's slumped in the past he's always one of the first on the field to congratulate and encourage his teammates.
KM. Kate Middleton. Kevin Millwood. Coincidence?
THERE ARE NO COINCIDENCES.
Today, Yankee fieldmaster Joey G and superbrain Cashman are looking at a bizarre bomber rotation: Sabathia, Burnett, Nova, Garcia, Colon... Our best pitchers have been the last two.
But none will lose their job to Millwood. He would replace Buddy Carlyle or the Pendleton guy -- (let's call them Buddy Pendleton.) Sure, we all love no-name underdogs. But which of the three is most likely to stick?
Last night, in the Daily News fifth, Mark Findspam suggested that the Millman is hardly impressing the scouts of Scranton. Of course, he isn't. Nobody looks good when he surrenders 6 runs in two innings.
But write this down:
It's a gawdawful, gadamm long season, gadamnit. Phil Hughes might not throw another pitch. Colon and Garcia are not Koufax and Drysdale. Sori might be a bust, Joba is still Joba, and Buddy Pendleton is not the Bridge. We need arms. We need bodies. We need guile. Like it or not, we need to take a flier on Millwood. Yep, maybe he's done. But maybe he's not. We need to roll those dice. This pitching staff is on thin ice.
Tonight, Kate Middleton will be closing her eyes and thinking of England.
Tonight, the Yankiverse must close its eyes and think of Millwood.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Two innings. Six earned runs.
He's holding the Charlotte Whatevers to only one run.
(Just struck out the always-tough Lastings Millege, too!)
How much mill wood would Millwood mill if Millwood would mill wood?
Regarding the recent death of former mayor and Maryland governor William Donald Schaefer, a Baltimore Sun reader writes:
A beloved mayor of Baltimore is gone, and the city, state and people he cared about are poised to honor him over a three-day period.With all that in the offing, the best The Sun can do is feature a photo of a Yankees fan in front of Mr. Schaefer's statue?I think the man would have hated it.Nancy Cantville, Eldersburg
While he's throwing his last game in the real Scranton, the fictional Scranton will be saying goodbye to Michael Scott. Coincidence? Or as John would say, "co-ink-e-dink?
After our IIHIIFIIc, they have the best abbreviation -- IIATMS -- in the Yankiverse. We read them every day. Everyone should. Obama should. They are comprehensive, well researched, well written, succinct, brief and entertaining. If the Nobel Prize were given for Yankee blogging, they would be finalists, if not recipients!
However... on the subject of Kevin Millwood, they are drunken, dumbass, oatmeal-for-brains, tweed-shirted drone-louts, who should be stuffed in a bottle and set out with the Sarasota red tide. They know nothing, NOTHING, about baseball, life, Kevin Millwood and justice. Nothing.
Phil may have a rare circulatory condition. If so, he's done until next spring. Some come back. Some don't. This is why clubs horde young pitchers. They're like spermatozoa. For every 10,000, only one has the speed and guile to reach that magical strike zone and impregnate the catcher's warm mitt.
Let's remember a few tidbits about Hughes:
Back when he was a super-prospect, the knock was his fragility. In the bullshit prospect "rankings," his score fell because "scouts" - re: fan bloggers - questioned his durability over a full season. One reason Minnesota wanted Hughes and Joba for the washed-up tub known as Johann Santana: Phil's medical record, which would put a smile on the face of any personal injury lawyer.
"He's hiding somethng," the millionaire real estate heir said. "Whatever it is, it's time to come clean. The guy's built like Rosie O'Donnell. He's throwing 95? No way! Bartolo, you're fired!"
Colon's birth certificate - if it exists, would say May 24, 1973, Altamira, Puerto Plata, of the Dominican Republic. But last night, following his 8-inning victory over Chicago, Colon did not make the document readily available to reporters, and Trump is firing away.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
And home run sluggers head to jail,
When rioting confronts Iran,
And bankers grow too big to fail,
When Presidents must prove their birth,
From fools who claim they don't belong,
While tides of hatred roil the Earth.
And all the world seems going wrong.
When cresting rivers flood our land,
And cemetaries fill with graves,
We'll know it's time to make our stand...
When Mariano blows two saves.
Under the terms of a hastily-written March contract, at midnight May 1, Millwood will sprout the wings of free agency and begin to fly, if he has not been assigned a Yankee uniform number -- (is 3 taken?) -- and has not begun to devour innings the way our family dog does deer-turds.
This, in case you haven't noticed, is a Kevin Millwood stalker site.
We live Millwood.
We breathe Millwood.
That makes Sunday the most important day ever.
Millwood Day. Plan to celebrate. We will have special festivities all day long!
Whose hearts are achin' as he's breakin' his vows
Who's sad and blue, who's cryin' too
Just like we cried over Joba's boo boos
Right to the end just like a friend
Alph tried to warn us somehow
Randy had his way, now we must pay
12 mill and a pick, kapow!
We're sad and we're sorry now
Is Sori looking to see whether he'll get the same crotch crowning as his overly generous sponsor Randy or is he looking for more excuses
2. The unanswered question: Are Floyd and Humber really that good, or are the Yankees just not hitting? Until we know the answer, no lead is safe and secure, and to keep your family safe and secure, visit New York Life. For more than 60 years, New York Life has been keeping families safe and secure. That's New York Life... the company you keep.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
ORIGIN: This apparently touches upon the physical act of a gardener (as per Gardner's name) in planting a seed. Sadly, it draws no distinction between a flower garden or a vegetable garden. It does not paint a picture of the gardener, bent over the earth, arching his back and groaning as he sets the seed into nature's fertile hole.
SCORE: On the Sterling Scale of Showmanship, it would rate a C+. Unfortuately, it sounds too much like the (extremely sexual) "Georgie juices one" to rate higher.
She's the Legends Suite Lady at the House that Rudy Built.
And she owes it to her old schoolpen just past the Applebees and car dealerships along Vestal Parkway: SUNY BEE.
"At Binghamton, I was able to hone my skills, and I had some great mentors there," Barre says, in a promotional story for SUNY B.
Good to know we've broken George's old Ohio State/Ithaca College pipeline.
Really reaching out for 3rd base side?
I may be at the end of my rainbow
But, baby here goes.
The best babes don't just go for guys who go deep
I haven't wasted bucks on ex-wives, so I have more to keep
And if you're wond'ring
If these lyrics can't get fixed
I never tried to fake it with Alex
2. Carries birth certificate everywhere (required to purchase alcohol.)
3. Would have team play simultaneously in San Francisco and San Diego.
4. Would appoint Stump Merrill to head managerial search committee.
5. Would hire new manager Stump Merrill!
6. Can supply each player with snappy nickname.
7. Would appear unannounced at team meeting to serve turkey dinner.
8. Goes on vacation between June and September.
9. Shows players how to duck beanball shoes.
10. Flies pennant flag saying, "Mission Accomplished," on May 21.
2. AJ was the tough-luck loser, having pitched his best game all season. That's a ray of hope to Yankee fans. If AJ is back to the way he was in 2009, he's going to win his share of ballgames.
3. Some nights, a pitcher has everything going for him, and that was the case with Philip Humber. Everything was going right for him.
4. That was a big run in the ninth scored by Chicago to make it a 2-run ballgame, and it started with a little pop fly that should have been caught. It's the little things that win and lose ballgames.
5. Of course, the name of the game is simple: Pitching, pitching and pitching.
6. Tomorrow, the White Sox won't have Philip Humber out there, and it will be an entirely different game. The score could be 20-19. Who knows? Isn't that amazing? You can't say what's going to happen. Anybody tells you they can predict baseball, they're wrong.
Above is David "Man from UNCLE" McCallum in the aforementioned episode of THE OUTER LIMITS. It does not look like Brett Gardner. Not one bit. Not one iota. It does, however, look like this bizarre alien. (Check out the ears.)
Monday, April 25, 2011
I think it was decent of everyone who hates Brett not to mention what his head looks like when he takes his helmet off. Has anyone seen that old Outer Limits with David McCallum. Seek it out, you'll see what I mean.I did just that. The tv episode is above. On the left, has anyone checked out how many fingers Brett has?
Meanwhile we are in the process of getting no hit by an ex-Met reject!
As suggested by Joe De Pastry
The evidence is on this Facebook page devoted to him:
At the end of every Yankee victory, cantor John Sterling thanks his personal god -- who is called "THUH" -- by name.
This year, we will attempt to capture the entirity of the Sterling religious experience by putting forth each passioned cry in one massive collection. When completed, it is believed that the resulting string of 100 victory calls will coax Sterling's god down from the heavens, where He shall smite our enemies and restore the Yankees to their righftul throne atop the Major Leagues kingdom.
You don't see other Yankee blogs do this, do you? Hell no. They're sitting around complaining about Brett Gardner. We're calling upon divine intervention, dammit.
A foul tip off some Philestine bat caught the future Yankee savior - or trade deadline chum - directly on his outside garden faucet, at the Y in his road, in his seed catalogue, his personal computer, his Private Ryan, his super-shooter, his Hadron particle reactor, his capital of Vermont, his deep dish cheese pizza, his Charlie Sheen truth torpedo.
He might not only miss several games, but fatherhood.
At the time, Jeez was second in the entire International League in hitting, with an average over .400. Although part of the reason may be Jorge "The Other Jorge" Vazquez, who is on the verge of leading winning the Triple Crown. If Jorge "The Real Jorge" Posada gets hurt or goes into a deep slump, we might switch Jorges before we resurrect Jesus.
Today, as Jeez he sits in his ice bath, we at IT IS HIGH wish him a speedy recovery. The women of Scranton need him.
But he must avoid those hussies of Wilkes Barre. They are the wenches of Barabas.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
You came along and helped save the day
My buddy, my buddy
Your pitches quite so true
Love your style, the steady way of your hand
Mo failed again, we just can't understand
My buddy, my buddy
Your pitches quite so true
a better, wordless 1956 version from Chet Baker.
Did he worry about rubbing it in to Baltimore?
No THUH = No Win.
For Sterling, mighty Sterling, was attending to the mike,
And every radio listener knew the cadence he would strike,
A Yankee win meant one great call, all knew what would come next,
John Sterling's famous warble: The Yankees' oral sex.
Twas a smile on Sterling's countenance, a gleam in his brown eyes,
He called the out with clarity, then put his voice to rise,
"Ballgame over, Yankees win," the silver throat did peep.
A baritone heard round the globe, each word propeled by Jeep.
But then the grand old orator went silent in the night.
But there's no win in Yankeeville — John Sterling gave no THUH.
Yes. It shaped up as a perfect night: Big Yankee win.* Gardner homers. CC pitches well. A-Rod, Jorge, the whole middle hits. It should have been a happy Resurrection Eve, with children across theYankiverse laying snug in their beds, awaiting the jolly old Easter Bunny's arrival down the chimney, bringing candy for all.
But this Easter morning, there is a stark red blemish on the purple horizon of Yankee peace and hope.
Last night, John did not deliver a THUH.
He said, "Ballgame over, the Yankees win."
That's right. No THUH.
today, I will go into the week's MLB audio and add the two missing THUHs from earlier to the THUH Project. But I will find no THUH from last night. Because last night, there was no THUH.
That's right. The Easter Bunny stole our THUH.
* Every Yankee win is a big Yankee win.