Kevin Baker's book is here!

Kevin Baker's book is here!
"... an exemplary sports book..." Kirkus Reviews

Monday, April 30, 2012

CNN Political Pundits: "like telling a Yankee fan you've got to love the Red Sox"

CNN
April 27, 2012 Friday
SHOW: CNN NEWSROOM 11:00 AM EST

KYRA PHILLIPS: Well, they were at each other's throats, the campaigns of Mitt Romney and Rick Santorum tearing each other's candidate apart but the clash of the camps has apparently found peace. Kind of. Here's the word, Santorum's former campaign manager is now with Romney. The new role, national coalition director. His job, winning over the conservative vote, Tea Party, evangelicals, and all. Today Mike Biondo is fair game.

Democratic strategist Keith Boykin and Republican analyst Boris Epshteyn with me this morning. So, Boris, just a few weeks ago Romney was Biondo's target. Now he's got to get people to vote for him. I mean that's like telling a Yankee fan you've got to love the Red Sox.

No, not quite. That's more like telling a Yankee farm team that you've got to go for the main team now. And this is a great example of how good the Republican Party is at coalescing behind its leader.

Kay clarification: Radio apology to craven face of evil Texans was not apology

If you're scoring at home, Michael Kay says his radio apology to the vampire couple who would deny a crying child sustenance in the form of a baseball was not an apology, but an amended reconsideration.

On his radio show - yeesh, the guy practically lives on the air - Kay says he wishes he hadn't ripped the super-evil duo so close to their wedding day, which was Saturday. That bothers him, and rightfully so.

Everybody knows you don't slapdown low-hanging yuppie fruit-zygotes on national TV on the day-before tune-up for the lifetime co-mingle. It's just not cool. McCarver wouldn't do it. No, you wait until they seal the deal - when Satan himself approves the blood pact - then rattle their cage with a wooden cross. Two nights beforehand, you don't denounce them as kitty sand in front of the million-strong, chips-chewing Yankiverse. It was a gaffe, a blown tire in the booth.

The couple wants an apology. Kay will not cave.

"I did not apologize," he tweeted to the anxious world.

Limbaugh caved. Kay is standing his ground. Evildoers, beware.

Freddy Garcia sings our song

From his quotation yesterday in the Times.

Start spreading the news...

"We play to win here..."

I'm leaving today...

"They expect you to pitch good..."

I want to be a part of it.

“When you play here,

New York, New York...
"You play in New York..."

I want to wake up in the city that doesn't sleep."

"It’s not like when you pitch somewhere else..."

And find I'm king of the hill...

"We don’t play to develop a player..."

Top of the heap.

"They don’t wait for anybody..."

If I can make it there-

"If you're good, you're good."

You know, I'm I'm gonna make it anywhere.

"You know, It’s not like they wait for you to be good."

It's up to you, New York, New York.

"That’s not how it works here.”

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Farrelly brothers to recreate epic slapstick film with "The Three Nooges"

Mo, Larry and Gnarly.

Somebody Please Start A Poll or a Lottery

Dear World,

So CC pitched well against a great tiger team and we won the game.

Next up is Kuroda, who pitched well last time out and deserved better than to be on the short end
of 2-0.

Now here is where the poll or lottery come in;

The next starting pitcher up, after Kuroda, is Phil Hughes.

Let's start ( meaning one of you guys behind the Ju-Ju doors of this blog's national, secret headquarters ) an inter-active, real-time poll or lottery capability on the blog.  The guys with the saavy to put up the Pineda countdown board can do this in their sleep.

So please create and launch an interactive, real-time, user-friendly poll ( or lottery ) focusing on the forecasts of readers as to how Phil Hughes will do in his next start.

Such an addition could become a weekly feature on this elegant and highly technical forum.

Times a 'wastin, so you gotta get on this.

Thank you.

Fox News' take on the foul ball incident: "class envy and entitlement in a nutshell"

Fox News Network, April 27, 2012 Friday
THE FIVE
Kimberly Guilfoyle, Eric Bolling, Andrea Tantaros, Bob Beckel, Greg Gutfeld
.
GUTFELD: Welcome back. So, young couples being harassed for catching a baseball in the stands during a Yankee's game, a ball that might have gone to a toddler. Even the Yankees broadcaster castigated them for not giving the ball up. Yes, they're monsters. Behold, beholders.

God bless Don Imus

From his show Thursday....

WOLF: I-Man, you might want to jump on the Nationals band wagon. They have one of the best starting staffs in baseball. They won. They go 14 in 4.

IMUS: What city do they play in?

WOLF: In Washington. Washington Nationals.

IMUS: I'm a Yankee fan.

I shouldn't take this personally, but...

When Freddy Garcia pitches the way he did yesterday, I feel as if he came to my house, verbally insulted my family and then took a dump on the living room floor.

South Mexican Dirt-Field League Covets Pineda

Good morning all,

I just returned from a quick trip south of the border.

As you know, the south mexican dirt field league has served both as a re-hab center and point of origin for failing Yankee players.

Excessive weight and lack of skills are coveted qualities, for we are there to enjoy the game and the personalities of the game.  There are no wild card slots to strive for in the playoffs of this league.

"That Pineda kid looks perfect for us next season," mumbled our erstwhile manager, Salan Ramirez.

" I've been looking for a first baseman, and he will draw a crowd.  Can you imagine the bobble-head Pineda?"

As many of you have read my musings on this subject, I offer you now some logic:

Pineda's career as a pitcher is finished.

The surgery will end it without argument, though we will have to live through about 2 seasons of wishful thinking; soft-tossing, finally throwing off a mound, intense work to develop a change-up, more arm barkings, pitch counts, radar guns recording fastballs in the low 80's, an 0-3 record and 9.90 ERA in A ball and, finally, a farewell party for an over weight monster who eyes reflect a lost and dismal career.

When the Yanks give up on him ( and they will, though Cashman will be gone ), the south mexican dirt field league will welcome him.  He can even bring his old Yankee uniform.  He will even get a chance to swing the bat.

We have tequila, cervesa, great, endless summer days, fine tacos, enchiladas and barmaids. And that is the pre-game meal here.

The pay is $49.95 per game plus comestibles and bus travel.

I have a job here for Cashman, too.  We don't hold grudges for failure.

Essay question for today

In 30 words or more, imagine Brian Cashman's speech to Hal and Hank as he revisits the pre-spring training decision to trade AJ Burnett. Utilize the concepts of irony and self-congratulation. Include the phrase "basket of fried chicken."

It is time to take nominations for the tumultous IT IS HIGH LUNCHABLES APRIL YANKEE OF THE MONTH

Has it only been one month?

Brian Cashman, titanic in 3D
Michael Pineda, the iron lady
Freddy Garcia, three stooges
AJ Burnett, the lucky one
Alex Rodriguez, mirror mirror
Derek Jeter, the hunger games
Andy Pettitte, american reunion
Randy Levine, chimpanzee
Jose Campos, project x
John Sterling, we have a pope
Hal Steinbrenner, we bought a zoo
Joe Girardi, we need to talk about kevin
Phil Hughes, the cabin in the woods

Saturday, April 28, 2012

Today In Spam

Our chatty friend Anonymous raves that we "have done a fantastic job," praises "this beautiful forum" and speaks to the importance of having "someone like Jim Jordan as Speaker [of the House]!" Thanks, Buddy! Stop by again!


Time To Welcome Our New Artist & Contributor



This is Mustang.

He is other worldly.

If he kicks you, you likely die.

How did you like last night's game, Mustang?

Open letter to Seattle: Eff you you effing effs

Dear Seattlittes and Seattletonians,

As you may have heard, between the rain storms, we of the Yankiverse are not exactly tickled with the outcome of the Michael Pineda trade. The anger expressed toward Brian Cashman back here is at the level you'd expect to hear about Obama from the guests in a Hannity green room.

But from this vantage point, we have to concede the poor fool one measily point: He has never claimed you hid anything from us in that unspeakably disastrous deal. Cashman has absorbed the full nuclear brunt of that mistake. He has said this over and over. His bad. Not yours.

But, good grief, so now you're accusing Cashman of doing just that - secretly - in code, sort of the way that Lyndon Larouche speaks to gay Mormons. Says your U.S.S. Mariner blog (great name for a blog, BTW):

The Yankees believe the Mariners screwed them in the Pineda deal, or, at the very least, they suspect it and want everyone to know...

I’m going to quote a lot from one Espn article, because you’ll see how the Yankee story and their approach is coming together a week later.

“This is a massive decision gone wrong right now,” Cashman told ESPNNewYork.com on Friday. “So all scrutiny is fair.”

Gone wrong? Why put it like this? If trading for Pineda was the correct decision, knowing the health risks of pitchers, then the outcome is bad, but the decision would still be good.


You know what I say to this?

Eff you, you effing effs.

Listenup, Seattle. You took us, OK? Fair and square. Hooray for you. But how about sparing us your lie-detector parsing of the quotes crapola.

We'll deal with Cashman. He's in our penalty box. But if you want to scour every comment for a sign that somebody is impugning your great integrity, go screw a glacier, because as far as I'm concerned, it just suggests that you think you have something to prove about your integrity. 

Want to take a victory lap? Fine. Knock yourself out. But spare us your truth-interpretations and your outrage - OUTRAGE! - that somebody would suggest your integrity was less than pure.

All is fair in baseball trades. We know that. The Yankees ran their medical tests on Pineda. He checked out. Nobody says you lied. But you can't have it both ways. You can't win the trade in such a lopsided fashion and then claim, OMG! you've been unfairly tarred! - unless you secretly suspect there's something to it. And if you do... eff you you effing effs.

Friday, April 27, 2012

Link

We own Connecticut.

NPR Discovers Juju

May the Force wear Pinstripes.

Elsewhere on the radio dial...

"It's a ground rules Jackson--ground rules Jackson--
ground rules double for Jackson."


--John, top 7, 2 out.

* * *

By the way, did you get the idea that Hobblin' Joba's pregame media tour was intended to take our minds off Pineda?

This has been
MUSTANG
Peace, world!

Moose Skowron is gone

On the day we traded Moose Skowron to the Los Angeles Dodgers for Stan Williams, my grandmother threw a shitfit. She recognized a bad deal when it rolled across her Philco radio. "What are they thinking?" she wondered. "You don't replace a guy like Moose."

And we didn't.

He was "the third M:" Mantle, Maris and Moose. He was the first player I ever knew for whom the announcers would always have to say, "The fans aren't booing..."

In my time on this earth, I consider myself blessed to have experienced rock and roll, Guiness beer, free access to contraceptives, the love of a good woman and the 1961 Yankees.

Today, somewhere, an angel is saying, "The saints aren't booing..."

Carl Crawford and Jacoby Ellsbury will be out until July, which means one thing...

Over the next two months, we better put space between us.

One month is practically gone.

We're up two games in the loss column.

Not enough.

Yankeetorial : The Master once again faces his contract year

The chess board has been shaken again in the battle for the future of Yankee radio broadcasts, and from here, it seems only a matter of time before ESPN becomes our corporate broadcast voice. Every year, we inch further from the Bronx and closer to Connecticut, and one of these days, we'll be catching games on an FM band with Kevin Millar - he of the grand Pedro toast - and ex-Boston manager Bobby Valentine pretending to lament Grandy's slump.

Yankee games on FM. Can you imagine what Phil Rizzuto would have thought? Did Mel Allen ever own an FM radio? Of course, it's ridiculous to care - those ships sailed decades ago - but remember when you could drive from Buffalo to Providence and never miss a pitch, because tiny AM stations had you covered? Remember how the signals bled and strobed, and how you leaned forward to hear whether Martin was signaling for Goose?

FM will be crystal sharp in the cities. Good luck outside Batavia.

But this isn't about watts. It's about John and Suzyn, on whom tabloid critics take daily batting practice. Blown calls - what announcer doesn't have them - get breathlessly condemned by the Murdochian Greek chorus, who - amazingly, considering the newspaper's love of hometown slants - seem to believe every team in baseball deserves a shameless homer - except the Yankees.

I've said this before, so forgive me if it's stale: John and Suzyn may be an insufferable joke at times, but they still bring to the corporate Yankees a twinkle of pure fan innocence. They may be the last vestige of the Rizzuto, the Mel Allen, and the Fran Healys of this world. One day, they will be gone, replaced by corporate shills who also blow home run calls, but who in the name of impartiality celebrate victories over the Yankees - just as much as when we win.

Once gone, they will never come back. Listen carefully to the Joe Bucks and Bobby Valentines, my friends, because that's who will become the Voice of the Yankees. The sound will be crisp. So will the message. You can't predict baseball. But you can predict money.

Scranton sells the team to a private version of itself

Or something like that.

Thus, the Traveling Wilkes Barres -- a/k/a the Empire State Buildings -- will remain in the Anthracite Capital of the World for eons to come, or at least until the parent club gets a better offer from some other rustbelt city whose political base makes its main decisions on putting greens.

Pardon the cynicism. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe this time, Jimmy Stewart is in charge, the lawyers are honest, and Moosic is no longer perched on a hydrofracked sponge. Haven't read the contract. Wouldn't understand it anyway. But we all know the deal: The relationship between cities and baseball teams is the relationship between johns and prostitutes: One puts up all the money to watch the other put on the stirrups.

It's always a taxpayer fiasco, and it's always orchestrated by the lions of fiscal conservatism, the bankers with glass tubes in their crotches and their sons, the Industrial Development toadies, who preach against government while ignoring the fact that their shell game salaries come from it.

The deal in Scranton means the Electric City can now launch a $40 million renovation of its stadium, which was renovated only a few years ago to put in real grass for the Yankees, after it was built a few years earlier to offer the corporate luxury boxes that - at least in Syracuse - nobody can afford to luxuriate in anymore.

Well, Kei Igawa's legacy is safe. But it's too bad he's gone. That limo would have looked cool going up and down the New York State Thruway.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

The Cashman Trade Poem

You raise him from an embryo.
You hold him in your lap.
You teach him everything you know,
Then Cashman trades him for crap.

Each day, to him, you give your all,
Someday, he'll be your hero!
You'll teach him how to hit the ball,
Then Cashman deals him for zero.

You praise him as your top recruit,
His coach: Jorge Posada!
You fit him for that pinstriped suit,
Then Cashman converts him to nada.

So scour the landscape with your scouts,
Watch seedlings grow and toughen.
But let no hopes erase those doubts,
That Cashman will trade them for nuffin'.

Oh, the good old days

"Stop Sign"

In Boston, I know I was on prednisone.
I remember that because actually
I came here to visit the White House
When the president was in,
And my head looked like a stop sign.
Feb. 5, 2008, deposition


When Roger was Roger.

Cashman Press Conference Vows Future Allegiance To Yankee Prospects

There is a lot of rhetoric going about concerning some recent decisions made by the Yankee high command.

So Brian Cashman, after a quick visit to his lady friend in Rikers, stopped by St Patrick's for a unique kind of press conference.  He made his confession to a high holy man:

Brian:  "Bless me father for I HAVE SINNED."

Father :  "I know, Brian, you were just over visiting that bimbo at Rikers, right?"

Brian:    " Yes father.  She is a real bitch and I am cutting my ties with her."

Father  ;  "Six hail mary's and four rosaries ought to take care of that one. But why are you really here?"

Brian:  "I want to be forgiven for trading Jesus for a cripple. "

Father :  " I can give you credit for the cripple, but you aren't really asking me to forgive you for trading
                 Jesus, are you?"

Brian:  "  Well, I thought you could forgive anything as long as I confessed to the sin."

Father:  " No one has ever traded Jesus and received nothing in return before.  We don't have a rule on that."

Brian;  " I want everyone to know something.  I want to say here today, before your grace and all the
               observing arch-angels and portraits of Mary and the holy ghost, that I will never again, ever,
               trade well-regarded, developing young Yankee prospect to anyone for anyone. "

Father :  " You are a lying twit.  You are going to Hell. "

Amen.

What A Mess.



There is a heavy price attached to my predictions.

In effect, the Yankees fare horribly when I am right, and win championships when I am wrong.

How do I tip the balance to the latter circumstance?

I am having a horrible year, and it is ( thanks Yogi ), " getting late early," for the 2012 Yanks.

1.  The Pineda prediction is now validated ( I love the count-down board...it makes my day ).  But our rotation has been rendered mediocre rather than good. I will be shocked if Pineda ever pitches for the Yankees, and/or is worth dick when he does.  Nice due diligence there, Brian.

2.  My observations on Phil Hughes may be too true.  In other words, not only is he not suited to be a starter, he may not be suited even for 6th inning fill-in work in a 10-1 game.

3.  I really didn't think Freddy was done ( and maybe he'll shape up ), but I was never sure why we went after him rather than Colon ( who is doing just fine, thanks ).

4.  When I hear talk that the Yanks might move Nunez to the outfield, I began hoping for it to happen yesterday.  He is a liability in the infield and has to be a better option in the outfield than Ibanez.  But the Yanks are saying "centerfield only" which is a blind spot( yet another ) in their thinking.

5.  I wish Tex had never said he would beat the shift by bunting and going to the opposite field.  He made us all believe he would.  He won't and he can't.  We shall see the consequences.  I still love his defense.

6.  Phellps now looks unready to face good hitters.  Shit.

7.  We are desperate for Andy Pettitte to save the day.  It wouldn't be the first time.

8.  I thought that we must have some ( one ) position player in the minors who would emerge, surprise and delight us.  We don't.

9.  Cervelli is now our best minor league option at catcher if we need help at the major league level.

10.  A-Rod seems to be flailing again and he will not serve us well in the next 6 years as a $25 million man.  Everyone knows I am right about this.  That double play he hit into in game 2 is more what we shall get than the three run homers we need.

11.  This team cannot generate offense against quality pitching.  Nor can we hit pitchers we have not before faced. Nothing new here.  It is why, even if we get in via the new wild card option, we go out fast.

 Good friggin' luck in Detroit.


People standing in front of me in the line to scream at Brian Cashman

1. His wife.
2. Louise Meanwell
3. Alphonso
4. AJ Burnett
5. Ghost of George Steinbrenner

More modern baseball idioms

You know the drill: Let's update those great baseball phrases to the modern world.


Defund Planned Parenthood: Shut down a rally.

“… Three up, three down! So Mariano Rivera, on just seven pitches, defunds the Cleveland Indians’ Planned Parenthood clinic. Congratulations, New York! Another perfectly healthy Yankee victory has been delivered into this world!”

 Stand Your Ground law: Take a bean ball.

 “… Ouch! That had to hurt! Kevin Youkilis shakes it off and jogs to first, and the Red Sox have a base runner, thanks to manager Bobby Valentine’s newly instituted stand your ground law. Youkilis looks in a lotta pain out there, but he knows that later tonight, he’ll face no charges in the clubhouse.

New Cheney heart: Extra innings.

"... The Pirates tie the score, and we're heading to the 10th. Holy Halliburton! This game has just been implanted with a new Dick Cheney heart."

Yankeetorial: Should we even bother watching our prospects in the minors, knowing they will just be squandered in trades?

Last night, the latest future former future great Yankee, Mason Williams, went four for four with a homerun way down south in Dixie, the Charleston Riverdogs, which a River Ave dog commenter dubbed "the 1927 Yankees" of minor league teams.

On another night, this would inspire dreams of Williams playing CF in the house. Not today. It just hurts.

Why bother following Charleston, or any Yankee farm hand? We know the outcome: Somebody in the vast, lordly high Yankee command will detect a flaw in his game, and before you can say "Jose Tabata," we'll deal him for a washtub we see through a rose-colored MRI.

It's the classic Steinbrenner betrayal: Dwell upon the flaws of your players, and disregard those of the opposition. Make trades accordingly.

Right now, we have crapped the bed in the top of our minor league system. Baneulos and Betances collapsed. Brandon Laird went stale in the can. The Traveling Wilkes Barres are the saddest team in baseball; they don't even have a home. Remember Austin Romine, the reason why we could trade Jesus Montero? Hasn't caught a pitch all year.

Last night, Texas trotted out a 22-year-old who last year pitched in A ball. Shut us down. How is it that other teams - better teams - routinely bring up youngsters, while we churn and season, churn and season, until their arteries are clogged, and their best days are behind them? How did we get to be the team without rookies? (David Phelps, god bless him, is old enough to be a doctor.)

WTF happened? And why care about Charleston? The 1927 Yankees of the minors. And they'll all play for our enemies.

Rangers fans

Bah.

Open letter to Brian Cashman: Get thee to a nunnery

Dear Madam or Sir,

You've lived through past Yankee crashes. You saw us trade Jay Buhner, Scott McGregor, Doug Drabek, Al Leiter and the rest. You knew what can happen.

How could you do this to us... how?

I'm sorry, man. I just can't take this anymore. It hurts too much.

As far as I'm concerned, it is 1981, and we just traded Willie McGee for Bob Sykes. It is 2008 and we just traded Jose Tabata for Xavier Nady. No, it's worse: It is 2012, and we just traded Jesus for Pineda.

How could you do it... HOW?

I've lost hope. I think we're dead. You felt the air escaping last night. And I blame you. You HAD to show how frickin clever you are. You HAD to make it all about you.

I can't take this anymore.

I believe you just wrecked the next entire decade, maybe two. We will remember 2012 as the year you pissed away Jesus Montero and Hector Noesi. It's a wonder that in 1994, you didn't trade Jeter and Mariano. But then, it was Bob Watson who built those teams, not you.
I'm not sure I have 20 years left on this earth. But whatever I have, it will be spent hating this trade.

I'm starting to identify with Louise Meanwell.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Yankeetorial: Barely three days after razing Boston, they are laughing at us

Didn't take long, eh?

We went to Fenway, sprayed some gasoline, put a funtime licking on them, lit a match and damn near had them fire Bobby Valentine. Wonderful weekend. Seems like last year.

Now, you can feel Boston smirking. They are like the Taliban. They know this year is lost for us - that we're already down to Nelson Figuroa and possible Sidney Ponsons -- and that, moreover, we have just witnessed a generational fiasco. For the next 15 years, they can merely say the name "Jesus Montero," and we will recoil into a painful cringe. They have our mantra. We are the fools, the laughinstock, the clowns of baseball - and our brain trust thought it was so clever.

Taken for a ride by Seattle. Taken for all we were worth. It's like in that movie with Redford and Newman, where in the end the fools don't even know they've been hoodwinked. We were so proud of our due diligence. We ran the guy through a centrifuge. We gave him a colonoscopy. His blood work checked out. He colored in the coloring books and stayed in the lines. But damn those things we didn't check - the fact that his velocity dropped like a ballsack last year, and that Seattle was so willing to deal him for a DH. Remember Bobby Valentine's analysis: If he's so good... why did Seattle trade him?

Bobby Valentine is smirking tonight. Imagine that. Three days. Didn't last long, eh?

Excitement building for Pineda in 2013!

The Yankiverse tonight is celebrating news that the Michael Pineda Era is now a mere 12 months away! By this date in 2013, the young Yankee pitching star could be in his final rehabilitation start before taking the mound for Team Cashman, which hopefully will be reaching that magical goal of cutting budget by another $15 million.

Meanwhile, we can always watch the other trade-obtained pitcher - Dang, I've forgotten his name, but the Yankee minor league prospect blogs say he is A SURE FUTURE YANKEE STAR!! - grow and evolve from his current slot in Low Class A Charleston. He's pitching really well! I mean, he's LIGHTS OUT! Who knows, by this time next year, he could be in Trenton, just a few calls away from The Show!

This was truly one of the great Yankee off-seasons in history. Not only did we get rid of that dead wood of Jesus Montero -- GUY CAN'T CATCH -- and Hector Noesis -- NEVER MAKE IT -- but we managed to sign the cagy veteran Freddy Garcia and get rid of AJ Burnett.

I can't wait for 2013! Only 12 months away!

ALPHONSO SHOCK
He was right about Pineda


Michael Pineda will have arthroscopic surgery on right shoulder, Yankees have no timetable for his return - 5:11 PM

"We learned that Pineda is going to get more opinions before he allows the predicted, season -ending and career-threatening surgery." -- Today at 3:01 PM

"Try to forget about the following Yankees; Banuelos, Phellps, Pineda. Two are for trades, one is for practicing surgical techniques upon." -- April 5

"Pineda should have had his surgery... in Seattle, not at The NY Hospital for Special Surgery." -- March 20

"Note to Cashman; you don't get a young, healthy dominating starter in a trade for an unproven prospect, who has no position, without caveats. That player is made available because the team trading him knows he is flawed or injured, usually both." -- March 18

"Trade Babe Ruth for a guy the Mariners know is damaged. " -- February 18

NOTE: For the record, el duque was right, too--but after this month's Juju-slaught, we're all pretty sick of hearing about him.


This has been MUSTANGPeace, world.

Time For A New Tactic



I was mildly shocked when we won the opening game in Texas.  But, then again, CC is a great pitcher and he was due to find himself.

So last night arrives and I am silently hopeful, but fairly certain the Rangers' bats were going to come alive.

Here are the positives we must take from last night's shut-out:

1.   Kuroda pitched a pretty good outing.

2.   We all went to bed early ( the game was over once the Yanks bombed out with the bases loaded and no one out).

2-A.  The Yankees always make a pitcher we haven't seen before, regardless of age or country of origin, look like Sandy Koufax the first time we face him.

3.  We learned that Pineda is going to get more opinions before he allows the predicted, season -ending and career-threatening surgery.

4.  I don't think anyone on the active roster got hurt.

5.  Tex is still saving his bunting offense for the playoffs or a really big moment.

6.  You win some, you lose some.

We'll get them tonight, for sure.  Is Phil Hughes pitching?

The greatest baseball fan ever

His back is covered with Ruth and Gehrig.

More modern idioms for trendy baseball fans


Baseball traditionally has provided us with colorful expressions. For example, a great fielding play is “flashing leather.” A fastball high and inside is “chin music.”


But many baseball idioms have grown outdated. For example, who has ever really stepped inside a bullpen -- a pen for bulls?


Baseball needs new idioms, straight from the headlines, such as...

"A North Korean missile:” A long fly ball.

“… Youkilis swings and HITS A HIGH FLY TO LEFT! That ball is going… going … NO… it’s a North Korean missile, falling harmlessly into the watery glove of left fielder Delmon Young.  It’s a Kim Jung-out… not Kim Jung-gone.”

"The dog on the car roof:" A team carried by a slugger is.

“… With two home runs, Jason Giambi tonight was telling his teammates, ‘Climb on top of the station wagon, guys!  Don’t be peeing down the back windshield, ‘cause I’m driving us to Michigan, and you’re the dog on my car roof!”

"Individual mandate:" To move up the runner.

 “… With a man on second, Prince Fielder needs to hit a ground ball to the right side, fulfilling his individual mandate, even though the requirement not only clearly infringes on his personal liberties, but it imposes a potential financial penalty, as the result of his reduced batting average. Still, it’s the moral thing to do! Prince can’t just stand back and let that base runner die.”


Encore presentation: Edgar Allen Sterling's "The Rocket"


First published, Oct. 31, 2007
Once upon a midnight era, while I pondered Yogi Berra,
O'er many our Babes and Scooters, men of dynasties of pinstriped lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a yapping,
Like Big Pappi, loudly crapping, rapping 'bout some final score.
'Tis some Redsock fan,' I muttered, "drunken still, from 2004."
"Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly, I remember; we had rumbled through September,
‘Till our Bronxian troops had snatched a Wild Card from the Tigers’ drawer.
Anxiously, I sought each morrow; for our foes, I’d feel no sorrow,
For we would beg or steal or borrow, tomorrow would be ours for sure.
Beating down the Redsocks in a way no Gammons could ignore,
Owning them, forevermore.


Though some hitters could be chilling, we’d take pleasure on Curt Schilling,
Crushing balls of gopher, wreaking havoc like in times of yore;

And in my heart, though feeling clammy, I imagined beaning Manny,
Manny, being Manny, on his fanny, writhing on the floor.
Send them home as losers, and to us, a series ring restore!
Champions soon, and evermore!


"Suddenly, I felt a shudder, sensed a faint, familiar flutter,
In flew a stubbled chin of rubbled skin of double-grubbled gore.
And there before me, face a-twitter; t'was the famed Piazza-hitter;

He of filth and cheese and splitter, Roger Clemens at my door!
Bigger than Giambi, wide and pinstriped at my chamber door.
Big he was, as Michael Moore.

"Beast!" said I, "Fiend full of might! What evil brings you here tonight?
"What lures you out of Texas to this distant place and littered shore?
"Ancient one, so grand and pro, who hurled for us, once, long ago,
"Tell me, creature, large as train, that we'll rule the Socks again!
"Send them home as losers, and to George a series ring restore?
Quoth the Rocket... “Nevermore.


Soon to FOX, my eyes were peering, long I sat there watching, cheering,
Certain we’d beat Cleveland, for we’d always beaten them before.
Andy, Moose, Chien-Ming Wang! How could anything go wrong?
But then again, I bent to cussing; ‘round our heads I felt a buzzing,
Bugs and mites and pop-ups; we were roasted, toasted, out in four.
Quoth the Rocket… “Nevermore.


And so the Rocket, once rehired, now sits resting, home, retired;
While tears of Suzyn Waldman stain the paint upon my chamber door.
For in his eyes was all the seeming of a Redsock who’d been scheming,
And now his Boston fans are streaming, gleaming from the drinks they pour;
And my team, from hell itself, a curse we're facing to be sure...
It shall be lifted… nevermore.

Remembering "The Song of Rocket"

From the Book of Joe

Let's hope Hally and Hanky enjoyed last night's game

Fugginaye. As they sat in their doublewides, swattin' flies with the greasy spatulas they used to flip their mooncakes, pickin' at their bunyons through the holes in their smelly socks, let's hope the Steinboys grinned and said, 'Gaddamm, we saved old dead daddy some popbottle money by not signin' that Yu Whazzizzname jasper.'

In fact, I bet the land-line rang, and it was Buddy Selig, calling from his big city apartment in the projects, to say how proud he is of the way they cut their welfare budget - (bein' careful not to mention collusion) - because the Steinboys - by holdin' their nickels and dimes like a fat lady clutchin' a bag of Doritos - have done helped all the other owners get through these hard, hand-to-mouth times.

Jeezes. When the hanger antenna was pullin' in Channel 45, Hally and Hanky got to watch that Japanese pitcher they just couldn't afford. Nope. Yu Darvish cost too much mooch. Besides, the guy is almost 27, and even though the posting fee wouldn't count toward the salary cap, and there'd be no draft pick loss, and the new foreign marketing opportunities would practically pay his tab, hell - Hally and Hanky just can't go spending their mooch willy-nilly on ballplayers. Ol' Buddy don't like that.

So instead of Yu, we got ourselves Pavano Pineda. Trouble is, what's with that bozo, running around doctors' offices and lookin' for a "second opinion?" Doesn't he know doctorin' cost money? Can't he just put a beefsteak on his shoulder and get back out there? Money don't grow on trees. It shore aint easy, ownerin'.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

John: "This has been a terrible inning for the Yanks."

It couldn't get worse.

Yanks up. Bases loaded, nobody out. Meat of the order coming to the plate. John could barely talk, so heavily was he salivating. And then... nothing.

Rangers up. Nobody on, two outs. The Master anticipating a one-two-three. Doesn't work. Walk. Stolen base. Single.

"This is all on Kuroda. You don't walk Andrus with two outs so you pitch to Hamilton. You don't do that."

Terrible inning. Two nothing Texas. John is in hell.

"The Yankees failed last inning."

Shhhhhh

There is a reason why I remain mute today.

Ju-Ju rules.

New Baseball Idioms for the Modern Fan


More than just a metaphor for life, baseball provides us with colorful idioms - “loading the bases” of our language with “gopher balls” of insight.

Sadly, though, many great phrases are hopelessly outdated. Who today understands what it means to “take the collar” or “step in the bucket?” What collar? Where is the bucket? Have any of us ever been inside a “wheelhouse?”

To stay relevant, the game needs new trendier idioms, such as…

"A slut and a prostitute:" A single and a homerun.
“… Down by two in the eighth, all the Brewers need to get back into this game is a quick slut and a prostitute. Or better yet, string together three sluts and hope for a big Ryan Braun prostitute! Somebody’s gotta do it for money!”

"Wearing a hoodie:" Planning to steal a base.
“… Lester steps off the rubber and glares over at the base-runner Brett Gardner. He knows Gardner is up to no good. He’s saying, “I’m watching you, Gardner, ‘cause this infield ain’t your part of town! You’re trying to steal second, and I’m gonna pick you off, ‘cause I’m the Redsock neighborhood watch captain, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re wearing a hoodie!’”


"Mandatory transvaginal ultrasound:" A retaliatory bean ball.
 “… So now that Pujols has taken one in the ribs, let’s see if Jered Weaver follows the proper protocol and presents the Mariners with an opportunity to reconsider their personal choices, with a 90-mile-per hour mandatory transvaginal ultrasound – square in Ichiro’s ear."

EXCLUSIVE: Excerpts of Andy Pettitte's pre-testimony at Roger Clemens trial

Prosecutor: Please state your name and spell it.

Witness: Andrew Pettitte. That’s A-n-d-y and P-e-t-t-i-t-t-e.

Prosecutor: Hmm. Two pairs of T’s?

Witness: Yessir.

Prosecutor: Hmm. You've known the defendant for 20 years. How would you describe him?

Witness: Big. Eats a ton. I seen him polish off a whole boxcar full-

Prosecutor: Yes, yes, of course, he eats! That’s not what I mean! Is this man, Roger Clemens, the type of man who tells lies?

Witness: Well sir, he'll do anything to win a ballgame.

Prosecutor: Mr. Pettitte, this is not a ballgame! This is a court of law! And let me remind you that lying is not permitted in a court of law! Do you consider Roger Clemens to be the type of man who would lie?

Witness: Well, sir, I consider him the type of man who, when he tells you a whopper, you just go with it. Because there are guys who are always bigger than life, who have to be in the center of everything, and when they say crap - pardon my French - you take it with a grain of salt. You don’t write down every word and try to analyze if it's true. You accept them as characters.

They’re not as smart as they think they are, and at times, they can be first-class assholes – pardon my French, sir - but they’re basically good-hearted people. You don’t push their buttons, you don’t question their soul because – and I’m not saying this is right or wrong, it just IS – guys like this never live in the same world as you and me.

They are what they are, because they grew up in a hole, and to survive, they had to climb out of it. So they do whatever it takes. If Roger Clemens was cheating, I’ll tell you, he wasn’t the only one. And if Roger Clemens is not strong enough emotionally to say so, and then to watch his life and his name turn to crap, the way some people would have it -- well, you can call him a fool, or an idiot, or a buffoon or maybe even somebody living in a self-delusional dream. And you’re probably right.

But if you tear away that man's last shred of dignity, as this court has done, you do more to hurt him than anybody possibly can. And the notion of spending five years and millions of dollars to put him in a cage, to hang him out to dry, well, that's beyond me.

Sir, what’s the point of that?

Prosecutor: No further questions.

Yankees outjuju Rangers

From the Times...

C. C. Sabathia and Mark Teixeira each wore one of the other’s socks during the game for good luck. Sabathia, who earned the win with eight strong innings, said they would continue doing it as long as it works.

This, my friends, is how you win a pennant.

I just hope we're not going to the well too early.

Monday, April 23, 2012

AN ATTACK ON ALL
Murdoch Pawn Rips John


Rupert Murdoch's hit squad aimed its poison-tipped bullets straight at the Bronx Bombers' hearts in Monday's edition of the New York Post. The attack screed, signed by paid mouthpiece Phil Mushnick, nailed our dynasty's smooth-toned radio announcer, John Sterling, to the Aussie devil's cross of pulp. Here are but a few of the milder blasts leveled at the Voice of the Yankees:
[A] smug, self-smitten, self-promoter who turns simple facts into multiple fictions... John Sterling is so condescendingly clever, never allowing adjustments for his baseless self-regard... For 22 years, New York’s baseball fans have been forced to have a puffed-up buffoon describe games for them... Twenty-two years of this garbage, 22 years of tuning to Yankees games forced to rely on a guy who doesn’t know what’s going on and hardly cares. He’d rather holler his asinine nicknames and so-often-wrong “signature” calls so the fools at “SportsCenter” can reward him with a sound bite and a credit.
Ordinarily, I would ignore smears from a foreign-born target of investigations into hacking and bribery--especially one who used to own a competing American League ballclub. But the tactic of going after Sterling, a professional so noble he would never use company airtime to defend himself, is too shameful to ignore. If the victim can't speak up, where does the buck stop? Is there a man among the milk-fed Steinbrenner heirs who possesses the guts and goodness to defend his late father's hand-picked play-by-play man?

Waiting to see, this is...

MUSTANG.

Peace, world.

Pineda trade now stands as the 2nd most disastrous betrayal of Jesus in human history

Thank you, Brian Cashman, aka "B.C."

Footage of SuperFrankenstein (now Mustang) stealing show at "Juju Rules" book release party

At right is Bern Baby Burn.

Lord, doth this hurt

I shouldn't do this.

JUJU SETS WORLD RECORD



MUSTANG here. My steady girl, BIG BANG, reminded me to point out one last Yankee triumph that came out of Fenway this weekend. It's something you probably overlooked. Which is why the world needs MUSTANG & BIG BANG.

So pay attention and I'll walk you through it.

1) The Red Sox, above, tried to set a world record--biggest toast--and FAILED SPECTACULARLY, like they do at EVERYTHING.

2) The next day, MILLIONS of Yankee fans watching Fox Sports performed the WORLD'S BIGGEST JUJU LOOKAWAY (see below)...

3) ...when Fox left Fenway mid-game to show some guy in the Midwest pitching what the lawyers called a perfect game.

4) While Fox and Yankee fandom were so occupied, KING KONG SWISHER...


...hit his GRAND SLAM!

5) And the rest was JUJU HISTORY!




Tonight the Yankees bring their winning ways to Alamo Rent-A-Car Field in Dallas, TX. We'll be here after the game to tell you all about the records they set.

This has been MUSTANG. Stay real!

Traveling Wilkes Barres caught in blizzard spring of hell

Imagine how depressing it must be to be Francisco Cervelli.

On the last day of spring training, not only do you get dumped by your team - the only franchise you ever knew, and one that three times you went to the hospital for - but you get farmed out to a minor league team without a home. You can't rent an apartment. You can't find a comfortable restaurant. You can't find a regular workout facility. You just face a cruel, nonstop series of motels and rest stations on the NYS Thruway. Have you ever eaten at a rest station on the NYS Thruway? It's the food of a .220 season. It's the life of a trustee on a prison bus.

So this weekend, our Triple A warriors were in Batavia. Have you ever been to Batavia? I have. Great place to live. Wonderful people. Not a weekend getaway. Trust me: You don't want to be stuck there in a snowstorm. No lie: I have been in Iraq during a war and on the NYS Thruway during a snowstorm, and I felt safer in Iraq.

It's no secret that some MLB teams try to avoid stashing their high-ceiling talent at Triple A, because the cynical attitude of older players can be contageous. I cannot imagine how this year's ever-traveling Empire State Yankees can be anything but a morale disaster for our organization.

Already, Dellin Betances and Manny Banuelos have suffered enormous issues as developing pitchers. It's too early to blame the road. But by July, let's face it -- that team will be a prison bus. For anybody passing judgement on Cervelli's bad spring start - he's barely hitting his weight - they should think twice about what he - and everybody - is going through.

I Told You We Would Launch Boston !!!

Last week I delivered a major treatise on how this weekend's series in Boston could be pivotal to their season and ours.

My fear was that the 100th anniversary celebration of Fenway, in combination with Bobby Valentine's lingering and festering hatred of the Yankees ( see 2000 world series, followed by a lost decade of hiding out in Japan ), would position Boston's 2012 team for a turnaround, and a steamroller run to the pennant.

Truth is;  we did launch them.  I was right.

Ju-Ju rules, anyone?

To our redsock fan friends ...

Mysterious daylight fireball seen over Nevada ruled to be final pitch thrown by Alfredo Aceves

Badaboom.

A great weekend briefly obscures the Jesus Montero fiasco



Yep. Fee-ASS-coe. For now, no other word - well, debacle? - describes it. In another era, somebody would get fired.

Hold your nose and look at the step-by-step way that we have assembled a mediocre rotation. Yes, it’s only April, but these winter moves look like the Lance Berkman trade on steroids.



1.   We sign Freddy Garcia for – OMG - $4 million. Thus far, a John Carter/Ishtar disaster. Money down the drain.

2.   We sign Hiroki Kuroda for – OMG - $10 million. Thus far, the reincarnation of AJ Burnett. Hot and cold. Not worth the money.

3.   We piss away a great young hitter and pitcher – Montero and Hector Noesi - for, well, right now… nothing. Nada. Zilch. A fat guy who threw hard last spring, and who may never be the same. Oh, and a Single A prospect! Golly Moses, Yankee blogosphere, let’s cheer his nightly performances at Charleston, as we did with the Killer Bees! Whoopteeedoooo!

4.   We give away AJ Burnett for – OMG – the $4 million we spent for Freddy Garcia. (Plus a plate of fried chicken.) Of course, we laughed when AJ hurt himself in a bunting drill – which wouldn’t have happened in Tampa. Thus, we don’t have to watch him excel in Pittsburgh. And we can always dust off the old “couldn’t pitch in the AL East” line, our all-purpose excuse for trades that barf.



Awww, it just gets worse. Bartolo Colon is throwing shutouts in Oakland. The Betances/Baneulos bus fell apart on the NYS Thruway. We’re signing scrapheap Figuroas – hey, is Sidney Ponson throwing? -  and in a few weeks, we went from seven starters to desperately needing Andy Pettitte – and it’s still a stretch to imagine him the same pitcher he was in 2010.


Listen: This season hinged on that Montero-Pineda trade being – at least – a fair deal. We didn’t need to take Seattle. We just needed a deal that helped both teams. Now, it’s a blowout. And with Pineda gone – and why should we feel hope? – mark it as a colossal fiasco, the biggest in the last 10 years. In another era, somebody would fry. I don’t want such a fate for Cashman. But it’s his legacy, and I wonder if it will ever recover.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

"Baseball as a Road to God;" The course at NYU

On the night before opening day, the end of a baseball fan’s version of Advent, John Sexton entered his classroom at New York University to speak of Joe DiMaggio. He came to speak, too, of Ernest Hemingway and Gay Talese, of Lord Krishna and a sacred tree in the Amazon, and what he called “this notion of touching the ineffable...” 

At NYU, praying for a base hit might earn you an A.

Rain out