Last September, when the Times' Bill Pennington called to ask why our blog celebrates the outdated Yankee carnivale broadcast pinata known as John Sterling, I picked his brain for dirt. Pennington had spent weeks probing internal dark dimensions of the Master's psyche that the rest of us can only piece together from disconnected lyrics of Ethel Merman show tunes and 15-minute calls to Geico. The reporter had spent an entire day with John. Ponder that, folks: An entire Sterling day. Thus, I viewed Pennington as a potential Rosetta Stone of Sterling gossip and set out to decipher it. And the juiciest bit I shall now share:
Pennington disclosed that John was not enamored with his "Jesus is loose" homerun call, used for what now will be the only four dingers Montero ever gives us. John planned a new, improved call. He had one in mind but was not ready to share it with the world.
Now, we will never know.
Friday, Brian Cashman traded away our secret map to Candy Land, to Valholler... the lost call of Jesus Montero.
Opposing batters do not receive Sterling calls, which are forged in the volcano of his Yankee soul. That is the law of Sterling, the rule of life. We will never know what John had in mind, or how Jesus HR calls would have evolved over his long Yankee career.
We can speculate, but what's the point? No one can approximate the Master's limitless knowledge of 1950s Broadway standards, and unless we can simultaenously channel both Rogers & Hammerstein and Barber & Rizzuto, we cannot come close. The Seattle announcers won't try. Now and then, Jesus will hit a "grand salami." In New York, he would have had an A-bomb, a Text message, or a flight into Camelot on the vocal wings of Robert Goulet.
Gone. Forever.
The Yankiverse still grumbles about this trade. On paper, it was crafy. We dealt a young hitter for a young pitcher. It's not Buhner for Phelps, Drabek for Rhoden. But while pitching wins championships, nothing brings more instant joy to a Yankee fan - and its radio voice - than a glorious blast into the seats. It is the orgasm that comes from true Yankee love. And we might just have traded away 500 of them.
This guy, Pineda, had better be good. Because he will never bring us a home run call.
Now you've made me even more sad. Thanks a LOT.
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