They are merely "parting ways" with him.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Note: For the first time in your life that the Yankees went an entire season without trading the future for the past. We broke a negative cycle that had existed for generations and destroyed us for an entire decade. Brian Cashman did it.
Tex may be a boring guy who is a pop up machine at times, but I'll take him any day over this "MVP." Pete Abe took him to task over the above and other comments
....Asked what he saw from the team this month, Gonzalez stayed on his theme.
"God didn't have it in the cards for us," he said.
On Tuesday, when I asked him about the collapse of the team, Gonzalez blamed the schedule, not the Almighty.
"We play too many night games on getaway days and get into places at 4 in the morning," Gonzalez said. "This has been my toughest season physically because of that. We play a lot of night games on Sunday for television and that those things take a lot out of you."
I told Gonzalez that teams like the Red Sox and Yankees have long had those challenges, it's part of playing for a high-profile team.
"Why does it have to be?" he said. "They can put the Padres on ESPN, too. The schedule really hurt us. Nobody is really reporting that."
Crawford, meanwhile, stood at his locker last night and answered every question thrown at him with honest, direct answers......
Crawford stood only a few steps away from where Gonzalez sat. But how they handled the end of the season were miles apart. Crawford took responsibility for what happened, Gonzalez did not.
Believe if you will the amateur psychologists out there who have never met the guy and believe Crawford can't handle Boston. I think he just had a terrible season, something a lot of high-profile players go through. Being bounced around the lineup didn't help.
But at least he stood up at the end, admitted it and didn't pin it on God and ESPN.
Dear Madam or Sir,
I know you're catching boatloads of crap these days, much of it from the hand-wringing, smart-alecky, gasbags on the know-it-all Internet.
Well, speaking on behalf of the Yankees, I say it's time you catch some hard-edged truth:
You can't frikkin have it both ways.
You can't be the long-suffering tribe whose heart is constantly broken by its heros - AND also win the World Series every four years.
Nope. Sorry. Uh-uh. Sorry, Dr. Leaky, the bones just don't fit.
Nobody wants to hear how tough it is - how noble it is, how artistically human it is - to tromp around singing "Yankees suck" on behalf of a team owned by "That 70's Show."
Long ago, Yankee fans learned this. We don't flail around in front of Pirate or Brewer fans, expecting sympathy. We take the mallet, straight to the head. We take the ridicule. We suffer the smirks. And believe this, Bostonians... after a loss, nobody takes more shit than a Yankee fan.
Ten years ago, you chose to become "the official team rival of the New York Yankees." You declared jihad. And you succeeded. You adopted the Yankee ways. You became us. And even though you may not view yourselves as a fun-house mirror image of the Bombers, let me render unto this revelation: Everybody else does.
So... what do you do? Buck up, for kricesakes. You came one pitch from the playoffs. Who knows what would have happened with a day off and a second chance? So it's over. Wanna clean house? Go to it. Want heads to roll? Fine. Just don't expect the world to weep for your plight.
In a week or two, the Yankees could be in the same place. We won't expect kindness. We know how things work. We root for the Yankees.
The 2011 Redsocks were a team of bloated, boobed, chubby nincompoops.
Carl Crawford looks nothing like the outfielder who once roamed Tampa. He could play Santa. His face is a weather baloon, his belly looks like it was grafted from Bobby Abreu. What happened to the guy? Is he living over a Ben and Jerrys?
Josh Beckett apparently thought himself so much of the Second Coming of Curt Schilling that he decided to eat like him.
Adrian Gonzalez (or Godzalez, as the brilliant Dirt Dogs site now calls him) grew summer teets. (He could also be called Gutzalez.) Look at him. I've seen thinner TV chefs.
And then there is Newt Lackey. Check out the jowls. The guy was always burly, in a Joba-kind of way. Now he's roly-poly, in a Colter Bean kind of way. It's possible that he's not divorcing his cancer-stricken wife - but she's divorcing him. There's never any food in the house.
Big Papi lost weight. Pedroia remains wiry. But the Redsocks looked like a team that eats a five dollar foot long between innings. Yankee fans saw this in the 1980s, when every free agent we signed larded up by 20 pounds before donning Pinstripes. But today, look at the Yankee conditioning: Granderson is a wire, Jeter has stayed thin, Mariano? Nothing there. Even Arod and Posada - sidelined with injuries or lack of play - do not look chubby. Good grief. I'm glad we never had a bench-clearing brawl against Boston. Youkilis would have eaten somebody.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Yankeetorial: On spending a day at work, accomplishing nothing, while reliving The Greatest Loss in Yankee History
It began with Teixiera's grand slam. I was listening to John, He was bummed. "Well, we’re sure not the Evil Empire tonight," he said, adding, "Of course, that’ll all change tomorrow."
Yes, John had identified the horror, Mr. Kurtz, the horror...
It would all change tomorrow.
You knew it. I knew it. Everybody did. We'd beat Tampa, Boston would win, the Redsocks would ignite, beat Texas, sweep us, and take Phily, and for the rest of our fukking insignificant lives - throughout which we'd beg for the asteroid - we would face smirking, pimply Boston fratboys and their pill-popping, sweaty cow-ladys asking how Teixiera is doing?
Girardi was drunk. He took out Betances before he could implode. He brought in Brackman, and I leaped for joy. HOPE! Brackman could launch a rally — for him, five straight walks is a wipe of the butt. He walked one, and out came Joe. God, he must have been dropping acid.
When Ayala came in, it was over. The Rays were dead. Alphonso was sending text messages full of reverse REVERSE Rizzutonian juju – so many reversals I didn't understand him; he was lapping me — whining that Posada wasn’t in, that AJ wasn't in - but he was! - and calling for Golson.
We had no hope to lose that game, and then Corey Wade came through.
Two outs. Two strikes. To throw a perfect gopher ball takes incredible command. Corey Wade did it.
Make no mistake of this: Corey Wade is a hero.
He saved the world from Boston getting a second chance, rising to run the table and humiliating us for the worst 20 years of our lives. One pitch, and we were screwed. Hell. It was that close. None of us would get any work done - forever.
Commenting last March 7 on a Yahoo Sports piece headlined Take it from this fan: The line for second place starts behind Red Sox, a prophet using the name Jd 1 said:
Red Sox fans have many reasons to be excited about 2011
10. The Marlins won't win either, so you're still tied with them on the "most World Series titles in the last 90 years" list!!
9 If this were the Olympics, you'd be the AL East bronze medalist!!
8. Look at all the extra free time you'll have over the next few weeks!! I hear that "Real Steel" is destined to be a classic!!
7. You won't be anguishing about how Lackey would pitch in the playoffs!! That'll be good for your ulcer!!
6. John Lester is still unbeaten vs. Baltimore!!
5. Hey, only 6 more years and $130 more million and you're free from that Carl Crawford contract!!
4. I'm sure Theo will re-sign Wakefield and Varitek and make another run at that whole "best team ev-ah" thing!!
3. Now, you won't be quite so hung up on Grady Little and Bill Buckner!!
2. Ted Williams' head is going to be brought in on Friday night's "Pawn Stars," and now you're free to watch!!
1. Your team won 90 games!! You should be SO PROUD!!
With our renewed commitment to respect the almighty gods of juju, we are nominating only players who cannot be affected by the dreaded IIH, IIF, IIc EOM Curse.
Nevertheless, each of these Yankees does deserve appreciation for services rendered. The nominees are:
Scott Proctor, final destination 5
Kei Igawa, the debt
Andrew Brackman, spy kids: all the time in the world
Andrew Laffey, the help
George Kontos, glee; 3D
Into our wounds, they'll pour their salt,
... that would be 0.
Yep, all 45 "experts" picked the redsocks to win the AL East.
45 out of 45.
33 "experts" picked the redsocks to win the World Series.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
What a terrible, awful, horrible, terrible, oops, I said that already, bad loss. I am in pain. It is almost impossible to blog. Actually, it is impossible to blog. But I am blogging through the pain. Woe is me. We have blown a seven run lead. This is awful. How will I ever get over this?
Bartolo Colon and Curtis Granderson tailed off noticeably after receiving their awards.
But come on, who believes in the IIH Yankee Employee of the Month curse? It's unsubstantiated dogma, pure superstition, right? Might as well believe in the existence of Bigfoot or Lady Gaga's male genitalia.
So who should we nominate....?
Brian Cashman, moneyball
Derek Jeter, drive
Robinson Cano, warrior
Mariano Rivera, the killer elite
No worries about The Curse, right...?
So... any other nominations?
Dellin will probably be part of the rotation today. Michael Kay keeps referring to him incorrectly as a Brooklynite. That makes him a native New Yorker for sure, but he only attended school in Brooklyn. He was brought up in the Lillian Wald Projects on the Lower East Side. There's nothing more genuine New York than being from the LES.
from the nytimes in 2006
At times, Dellin Betances still has trouble wresting control over the body he was given. The growth spurts have come one after another during his four years at Grand Street Campus High School in Brooklyn, adding five inches to his frame, topping him out at 6 feet 9 inches, a tangle of long limbs and limitless potential.
"But it's hard," he said, "because I just keep growing."
Betances is a rare specimen: He is an 18-year-old right-handed pitching prospect with a fastball in the mid-90's, a well-developed breaking ball and the intimidating stature of a basketball power forward.
That explains the steady parade of scouts who have made their way to Brooklyn this spring, including the dozen or so who stood behind the backstop and watched him pitch a one-hitter, striking out 16 bewildered New Utrecht hitters over seven innings in a first-round Public Schools Athletic League playoff victory in late May.
It also explains why, a few months ago, Betances seemed destined to become the first high school player from New York City to be chosen in the first round of baseball's amateur draft since Manny Ramírez in 1991.
"Down the road, this kid's going to be throwing 100 miles per hour," said Mel Zitter, who coached Betances and Ramírez in his Youth Service League Inc. baseball program. "People understand with Dellin, that down the road, he's going to be a No. 1 or No. 2 major league starter."
But scouting is a fickle science, and in an era in which seasoned college talent tends to trump pure speculative possibility, scouts are reluctant to overvalue a gangly teenager in the days before the draft. Betances could go anywhere from the first to the fifth round, according to several experts.
Andrew Miller, a 6-7 left-handed pitcher from the University of North Carolina, is widely viewed as the top overall prospect in the draft. Kyle Drabek, a pitcher and shortstop and the son of the former major leaguer Doug Drabek, is also expected to be chosen early.
Other notables include Jeffrey Maier, an outfielder who received attention as a Yankees fan who reached a little too far over the fence in a 1996 playoff game; Danny Almonte, the pitcher from Monroe High School who became famous for starring in the Little League World Series when he was two years too old; and Preston Mattingly, a shortstop and the son of Don Mattingly.
The scouts have fretted over Betances' inconsistent mechanics, his decreased velocity earlier in the season and his inexperience. They have also expressed concern about what Aaron Fitt, an assistant editor at Baseball America, described as the "New York hype machine," a shorthand term for the agents and coaches advising Betances about his future.
That machine includes his high school coach, Melvin Martinez, and Zitter, who prides himself on being Betances' sole pitching coach. It includes the agent Jim Murray, with the Houston-based Hendricks Sports Management, whom Betances chose after meeting with representatives from five agencies. And it includes his older brother Anthony, who works for the Metropolitan Transportation Authority; his father, who drives a livery cab; and his mother, who raised him and three other children in the Lillian Wald Houses on the Lower East Side........
In September 2009, the baseball world was stunned by the announcement that longtime LoHud writer-blogger-lugnut Peter Abraham was leaving the protective Yankiverse cocoon to cover the Boston Redsocks.
Presumably, the scribe known as "PeteAbe" had long coveted the whimsical and romantic life of the Redsock beat writer, who annually has the chance to follow America's favorite champions in their magical quest for Schillingtonian glory.
Within a month, Boston was kaput, and the miserable, wretched Yankees - who had been shackled for years under PeteAbe's watch - had won the World Series.
In 2010, the mighty Redsocks - despite the signing of John Lackey, the best free agent pitcher on the market - failed to make the playoffs. That prompted a Steinbrennerian winter spending rage - adding Adrian Gonzalez, Bobby Jenks and Carl Crawford - moves that resulted in a unanimous certainty this spring that 2011 would be the greatest year ever for the beloved 25-man Redsock legion of hope.
Now this: Calamity. Defeat. Finger-and-toe-pointing... and PeteAbe.
As soon as the Yankees shed the bugger, their problems ended, and Boston's began.
Coincidence, you say?
This is what I say.
There are no coincidences. He's all yours, Redsock Nation. Mwahahahahaha.
Fans are asked to bring canned food for the Redsocks Distressed Hubby Fund, which allows pitchers to escape uncomfortable marital relationships due to tragic spousal illness or the finding of mucho hotter young alternatives.
During the seventh inning, if the game is close or deadlocked, Tampa fan favorite Raphael Soriano will sing "God Bless America" and serve fried gopher balls to the crowd. As a special attraction, people with iPhones will be encouraged to call out play-by-play of the Boston/Baltimore game and/or what's happening on Survivor: South Pacific.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
played meaningful games, intense games.
We’ve done that now for the last 7-10 days."
Curses! They outsmarted us again!
Did he hear? Oh, no. And now, last night's dreadful, unchewable loss lies upon my dinner plate, like the tongue of a circus beast -- demanding to taste me, while I taste it. That catch by Desmond Jennings in deep left field: It plays on a tape loop in my personal hell! Dammit. How could we lose! We had them by two.
Across the Yankiverse today, one universal pinprick of thought outduels all others: We MUST win tonite! Defeat is NOT an option. No, SIR. As soon as gametime arrives, we've got to leap upon the Rays, and claw our spurs into their flanks, HARD! We've got to hit like never before! Once we get them inside the chalk lines, we must show them who is boss... and snatch the sweet-smoked bacon of victory from their razor jaws. Tonight! Ohhhhhh, yes, vengeance shalt be ours!
Monday, September 26, 2011
I am sick and f*&king tired of winning.
I've had enough. Victories mean nothing. Wins are pointless. Who cares?
As a rule, we Yankee fans accept at least 60 losses per year. That's a boatload of pain. But we do it. Sixty losses. That's five years of losses for a New England Patriot fan. Sixty losses. Anybody who says Yankee fans have it good... remember: Sixty losses.
So I'm good with losses. In fact, let's get three out of our system now. Each will hurt. But dammitall, we're big boys. We can take it.
I don't give a damn about the battle for the 25th roster slot, or who is our third starter. Between now and Thursday, here's the competiton:
WHO CAN BEST HIT EASY GROUND BALLS TO THE SHORTSTOP OR SECONDBASEMAN? WHO CAN THROW FAT PITCHES TO EVAN LONGORIA? WHO LIKES TO WATCH BALLS DROP IN FRONT OF THEM?
Those are the Yankees I want.
Winning? Beh. I speet on your meaningless victories. Pttuui.
Don't brag about the AL East,
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Ever since that fateful night seven years ago, when Javier Vazquez and company successfully squandered a three-game playoffs lead, ending nearly 100 years of harmony on a once-promising planet, Yankeekind has dreamed of returning to the Promised Land, the life we once had, when Yankee men hit home runs, and Yankee women waited for them with teddys and plates of homemade potato salad.
Today, we have a chance to return to the Garden. We can end the malaise, bury Wakefield and Varitek forever... we can move on.
Six months ago, the '27 Redsocks were heralded as America's Super Team, the one sure thing along with Sarah Palin's marriage. Today, a doubleheader sweep could end Terry Francona's term, send Theo to Chicago, leave Josh Beckett's last great season forgotten on the scrap heap of history, and send the fratboy fan base early into football.
Not saying it will happen. Not daring to predict such a thing. Just saying, it's nice to dream.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
It took historians years to recognize the widespread depth and secrecy of the 1939 Manhattan Project - America's construction of the atom bomb, led by Edward Teller and Penn Gillette. Congress wasn't told. Harry Truman only learned after becoming President. (Note: Obama is still clueless about the colony of Gorns living in Area 51.)
Now... the Yankee Manhattan Project?
Last winter, Brian Cashman - according to Brian Cashman - pulled off the greatest subterfuge since Talia Shire abruptly became hot in "Rocky," (which only beats Molly Ringwald's transformation in "Breakfast Club" because Judd Nelson, playing a hood, (pictured right) blurred humankind's ability to discern truth from dare.)
Cashman - according to Cashman - feigned interest in free agent Carl Yazcrawford just to dupe Boston's moneyball pigeons into signing that obese and talentless waddling slug muffin for the kind of money that could buy Michelle Bachmann the state of Iowa. Hah. Cashman - according to Cashman - used his superior intellect to defeat our foes.
Well played, sir! However...
Why Cash says this on the eve of the AL playoffs is beyond my comprehension. Is he taking his victory lap? If so, how about waiting for the victory. Folks, this kind of crap has all the juju stench of 2004. This is how we played it seven years ago - congratulating ourselves, while the Redsocks fried in their own grease.
Listen: Cashman had a great year. Crawford has stunk - thus far. But Big Brain Brian ought to shut his blubbering, Rick-Perry-on-crack, jinx portal. There is a whole goddamm October of baseball yet to play, and it's the only month anybody will remember. The genius GM does not curse his team on the eve of the playoffs, or post locker room quotes to rev up the enemy.
WTF is Cashman thinking? Be afraid, Yankiverse. Be v. afraid.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Happens relatively early. Sweet moment from 1987.
J.D. Drew has filed for divorce from his team and fellow Boston Redsocks manager Terry Francona after taking off with the guitarist from Journey, Neal Schon, the Associated Press reports.
In the documents filed in a Virginia court Friday, the Redsocks accused Drew of having a broken finger and flaunting it for all the world to see. Court documents indicate the couple had no prenup, the Associated Press says.