In one corner, it's Chien-Ming Wang, ace of the Yankee staff, if not for the barbaric National League rule that requires pitchers to run. When will the "leaders" of this nation put aside their differences and unite for meaningful change!
Facing him, power forward Andrew Brackman, ace of the Yankee staff, if not for the ludicrous rule that requires strikes to come within six feet of home plate.
Yes, it's our forgotten past squaring off against our former future. It's Chinese sinkerballs against the wild pitches of Borneo. It's the two warring dimensions of the Yankiverse, colliding like Bubba Crosby and Gary Sheffield, in those lost mudflats between Scranton and Wilkes Barre.
Today, Wang pitches for the Syracuse Chiefs, a farm club of the Washington Nats. Tuesday, Superfrankenstein and I scouted him when he came to the Salt City. We're still waiting for the stool sample analysis. He looked regal, like a once great artist who had been reduced to sketching $10 caricatures at the county fair. The game's second batter homered; it was his second HR of the year. But Chien-Ming battled, surrendered only three runs in five innings, and struck out his last batter on a pitch that was summoned through time, via 2005.
Brackman's year has been a complete, George W. Bush-level fiasco. He cannot throw strikes. If he were an NFL quarterback, he would lead the lead in interceptions. The Yankees relocated him to the bullpen, hoping it would help. No dice. Now, they're retrying him as a starter. God knows what he'll do. It's like inviting Godsmack to play a concert in Watertown. The world might end.
If the world ends Sunday, remember: You heard it here, first.
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