Friday, August 31, 2012
Penn State drops "Sweet Caroline;" how long will the Redsocks continue to push their pedophilia song tradition?
Penn State officials claim it's merely a musical decision: It has nothing do with trying to shed the image of an institution that valued a 62-0 win over East Buckshot State over the well-being of 14 children who were being molested by the prized game hen assistant coach. Nope. They just want a little more Tupac in the game rotation.
But the move is widely believed to be a reaction to those dastardly criminal lines from Neil Diamond, who wrote the song thinking impure thoughts about Caroline Kennedy, (who would be the U.S. Senator from NY if she would only have eaten a greasy sausage sandwich at the NYS State Fair)...
Send your children out of the Internet before reading further:
The lyrics go this way (emphasis mine):
Hands, touching hands,
Dear God, I'll need a flea bath after this post.
But then again, what about Fenway Park, where the seventh inning stretch of every game features the entire crowd singing along to Diamond's evil anthem. Does the late stage of every game now turn into a pedophilia festival?
Would you take your daughter to Fenway, knowing the hairy-nosed man in the XXXL Pedroia jersey (that's a joke, get it?) is gripping the seat like a lifeline, trying to hold back his Sanduskian impulses? Or the seeming nice couple (pictured) is in fact a dominatrix duo looking to recruit new pedo slaves?
Seems as though Boston wants to start over again. Well, it's not enough to trade Josh Beckett.
STOP THE PEDOPHILE MUSIC, BEN CHERRINGTON.
STOP IT NOW, OR IT'LL BE YOUR CHERRINGTON THAT GETS POPPED.
Last night, they clinched the International League's Whachamacallit Division, meaning they'll play an extra set of games in September, chasing the famous Somethingorother Cup, instead of putting this season in hell out of its misery. For several players, it means delaying a call-up to New York, which is why they played the season.
They survived an entire year on the road, from Hampton to Treadway to Ramada, from Sbarro to Wendy's to Roy Rogers, from Thruway rest stop to Thruway rest stop to Thruway rest stop. Every night, even when "Scranton" was designated "home team," one poor Yankee would be announced as "Taco Bell Strikeout of the Game," guaranteeing a free taco to everyone in attendance, if he whiffed. Thus, the entire crowd would swallow its cud and chant "TACO, TACO, TACO." Trust me here: You don't want to stand between 500 Batavians and a free taco. Yet they persevered.
They had every right to be cynical, to be lackadasical - to outright quit. Can you imagine Francisco Cervelli's state of mind in April? He'd always hustled as a Yankee. He had a knack for big hits with runners on base. Twice, he went to an emergency room in an ambulance, after trying to block home plate for his team. He went to Tampa expecting to be the back-up catcher. Two days before coming north, he was dispatched to Taco Hell. Yet he persevered.
And what about Chris Dickerson? Last year, as a utility OF, he performed well for us. He spent the entire year at Triple A. He's 30. He won't get many more shots. At "Scranton," he hit .321. On many teams, he'd have gotten a shot by now. Why isn't he in a corner of the bus, poking needles into a Nick Swisher doll? He persevered. "TACO, TACO, TACO..."
Kevin Russo, Darnell McDonald, Cole Garner, Ramiro Pena, Eduardo Nunez, Gus Molina, Manny Delacarmen, Ramon Ortiz, Chase Whitely... these players had one incentive this season: September. All they had to do was finish out of the playoffs. Labor Day comes, they're gone. Nobody would blame them. No more tacos. No more rest stops. No more Happy Meals.
Let it go into the fossil record that the Empire State Yankees of 2012 gave the organization a loyalty that I'm not sure it deserves. They won a title, and they extended their season -- and it might just make the difference for the Big'uns.
They may have given Alex Rodriguez a chance to test his wrist in an actual rehab game, rather than come back a do a couple 0-4s... while batting cleanup.
They may have given Andy Pettitte a chance to pitch in an actual game, instead of shaking off the rust against Tampa or Boston.
Goddamm... They did their jobs. Even if this Yankee season is remembered as one of the worst collapses in history... they did their jobs.
Goddamm. They marched into Hell and brought us all back a free taco.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
The International Intervention Society is showing some spine. They refuse to endorse the scheduled IIHIIFIIC Ju-Ju intervention ( this will be our third in 2012 ) until this Saturday, at or about 3pm.
Re-enforcements are coming to the secret, central New York HQ operation, and these power brokers won't arrive until about then. The exact arrival moment, as well as the route, vehicle type and security detail is never revealed to the general public ( for security purposes).
If you are going to do a third intervention ( think in terms of a third Quantitative Easing for the economy ), you must get it right.
This is unprecedented for a single season.
To be honest, it shows a degree of panic with respect to the quality of the 2012 Yankee team.
Make that, " a degree of honesty and objective appraisal."
If we don't get it right this time, at this late date, the supreme machine that is the Yankees could end up in the drink and out of the race:
Have them deliver your Bucket o' Beckett to:
Bronx, NY 10452
Get ready, everybody.
We went 20-6 after the first Juju Intervention in May.
We went 10-4 after the second one in July.
We are seeing diminished results of these interventions. We hoped to save our weaponry for October. But now, there might not be an October.
One more loss, and we - Night Watchmen of the Yankiverse, Lords of the 27 Kingdoms and Protectors of the Realm - will hold an INTERNATIONAL JUJU INTERVENTION.
PASS THE WORD. BE READY. BEGIN THE 24-HOUR FAST. GUARD THE TV. PREPARE FOR THE WORST. GET A GOOD NIGHT SLEEP: IT MIGHT BE THE LAST ONE YOU HAVE FOR A CENTURY.
WE WILL SOON BE TESTED.
THE ENDLESS WINTER IS UPON US.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
I say, claim him! Don't let them pull off a neat little Heathcliff Slocum deal. Claim him.
Worst case scenario, we get his overpriced gyroball butt and then can pitch him against Boston in the last series of the season.
Can't help but think Teachers Pet Dustin Pedroia would be skipping rope when he comes to bat.
So now, my friends, it's come to this:
To redeem his chances for the Hall,
Ol' Roger's gone to deepest Texas,
Donned his jock and grabbed the ball
To show all pipsqueaks with the gall
To hint his chemistry's amiss
That the wickedest PED of all
Is simply Lone Star, vinegar and piss.
Last night, with the most sickly Yankee lineup since the days when Andy Hassey was taping his glass knees, we eaked out a victory over Jose Bautista-less Toronto, the team of eternal winter. The Blue Jays lineup contains names that can only win at Scrabble: Colby, Moises, Rajai, Yuniel, Yorvit, Adeiny... In their last seven games - all losses - Toronto had been outscored 16-38. The last time the Blue Jays dominated, Bill Clinton was a new president, and his wife was selling health care.
We won last night because Phil Hughes was goddam lucky. In every outing, Hughes hits a 90-mph speedbump and either soars off a cliff or somehow lands back in the road. Last night, in the sixth, Phil walked the first two batters. The next guy came within 10 feet of a three-run HR, and the following batter hit a screamer line drive that became a doubleplay. Hughes landed between the guardrails and, unlike Michael Pineda, drove home without incident.
If either of those balls drop... we lose. We lose because nobody is hitting, and most aren't even suiting up. We would have lost at least two out of three at home to a team known to trot out Omar Visquel, at age 45.
Today, we desperately need the rubber match.
A week ago, we limped out of Chicago sporting the franchise's signature hubris: Everything's OK, because we're about to play a couple tomato cans.
Lose today, and we'll be 3-3 against them.
I dunno. I hate to sound doom-and-gloom. But I feel like Hal the computer in 2001: A Space Odyssey. Every game, something else drains from us. Steve Pearce bats cleanup, followed by Russell Martin? Daisy, daisy, gimmie your answer do, I'm half-crazy over the likes of yoooooo....
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
But this whole frickin season has been haunted. It began with Michael Pineda’s injury, just when I was starting to forgive Cashman for the trade. Suddenly, the season was doomed, and the Jesus Montero trade was a horror show. I had spent five years tracking Montero’s progress. When nobody was hitting, when life turned ugly, imagining Montero smacking 40 HRs kept me from eating my computer mouse Jesus was going to save us. When we betrayed him, the cloud appeared. Last time somebody betrayed Jesus, it lasted 2,000 years.
Then came all those stranded baserunners. The old line in baseball goes, “Lead-off walks score.” Not with the Yankees. Nope. In fact, we could load the bases and come up empty. We could load the bases with nobody out and come up empty. No. We could load the bases with nobody out and our three-four-and-five batters stepping to the plate. . . and come up empty. We kept expecting it to end. It hasn’t ended. We have veteran hitters, wily hitters, power hitters, great hitters — and they leave the runners on second and third. Folks, this is not random occurrence. This is the cosmos telling us something.
Oh, but the homeruns! We have plenty of them! We have an abundance - especially when they’re not needed. We hit homeruns in clusters, on days when everybody contributes. I’d like to see the statistic for number of games in which the Yankees have hit at least three homeruns. Because those are the games when you could have traded one for a base hit. (Did I mention that we hit three last night? All with the bases empty.)
Now this. . . Teixeira out for two weeks. That’s half our remaining games. We have watched a 10 game lead shrink to three, and unless we start winning, we will soon be fighting for the wild card. Boston punted. From now on, Redsock fans can have fun and dream about next year. They play us at the end of the season. My god, can you imagine how horrible this could get?
If Jete batted third last night -- as this website has proven scientifically he should -- his 9th inning homerun would come with two outs, rather than leading off, a far more crippling and fatal psychological blow to Toronto - ensuring Yankee victory. Also, batting in front of Robbie, Jete might have been on base during one of Cano's two one-run HRs. That would have won the game. Also, Teixeira would have batted later and not have hurt his calf sprinting the bases.
OK, I know what you're thinking: "This writer is incredible. He should be managing the Yankees!" No. I shouldn't be managing the Yankees. But thank you for suggesting it. I'm merely reporting from the alternative Yankiverse: If Jete bats third, we can still win this.
Yes, no one can truly know if the Yanks would have won last night if Jeter had been batting third - WHERE HE BELONGS - but what's your point? We lost. We lost a brutal game. We lost a horrible game. It was like 1 millions losses crammed into one. (Which is similar to the point before Big Bang creation, btw.) Even if Cano is waking from his midsummer nap, both HRs came with nobody on -- a commonality that is absolutely killing us. We need somebody in the middle of the order who hits in the clutch. Hmmm. Who could that be?
The one with the highest average? How about the one who has hit the most home runs in the last two weeks? Or the guy who is famous for clutch play? Hmmm. Who could it be? Casey McGehee, you say? Jack Cust? Wait for ARod? Slade Heathcott? Hmmm. Who?
Save the Yankees.
BAT DEREK JETER THIRD.
1. Mariano Rivera injured catching fungo off bat of Jayson Nix.
2. Yanks trade Jesus Montero for plate of bad clams.
3. LAST NIGHT: Teixeira hurt (perhaps for duration of regular season), Soriano blows two-run lead, Lowe's pickoff goes into rightfield, Yanks squander nice Phelps outing, extra-inning loss.
4. Line drive knocks out Andy Pettitte for six weeks.
5. Arod's wrist broken on changeup thrown by King Felix, who baffles Yankees.
6. Opening Day blown save by Mariano against Tampa, loss that leads to sweep by Rays.
7. After three aborted comebacks, Brett Gardner goes to surgery, out for year.
8. Yanks donate future Cy Young candidate AJ Burnett to Pittsburgh for absolutely nothing.
9. Loss against Angels in LA when Hughes blows 7-run lead after Jared Weaver gets hammered and hurt.
10. Constant promos read by John and Suzyn during Yankee radio broadcasts rouse Ralph Nader to complain, saying the ads “disrupt the flow and excitement of the game broadcast and undermine your responsibilities as a guardian of the national pastime.”
Monday, August 27, 2012
It is said that next door neighbors cannot savor the Grand Canyon. Usher grew tired of Heidi Klum's face. By 60, Pete Townsend couldn't hear a note the Who was playing. One tragic flaw of humanity is our incredible ability to overlook the obvious.
So let us now state the obvious:
The heart of the Yankees should bat in the heart of their order.
Bat Derek Jeter third.
Listen: The Yankees are three quarters into a season embodied by two darkly competing Yins and Yangs: We win with homeruns, and we lose with runners left on base. History tells us this formula will fail in the playoffs. Too often, the middle of our order has let us down, in part because it was trying to hit homeruns. Now, we have one of the great leadoff hitters in history - batting ninth. He's showing signs of re-emerging. Meanwhile, our best hitter is leading off. He needs to be in the center of things.
Sir, for the Yankees and for history:
Bat Derek Jeter third.
What? Did somebody out there actually think Jeet can't handle third? Ladies, this is Derek Jeter we're discussing. This isn't Curtis Granderson. And we don't need a homerun slugger hitting third. We have six of them in the lineup. Batting third, we need a single that scores the runner. This season, we have no better clutch hitter than our captain.
Bat Derek Jeter third.
For unexplained reasons, Robbie Cano has tanked lately. He's not hitting. He's not fielding. Surely, he will snap out of it. In the meantime, why bat him in the middle of every rally? Nor have Teixeira and Grandyman hit enough for average to justify batting third. Arod is out. Jeter - now hitting around .320 - has earned the right to bat third.
Consider the lineup:
Bat Derek Jeter third.
Imagine it: The playoffs. The World Series.
"Batting third for the Yankees, the captain, Derek Jeter."
I get goosebumps. Do it, sir, and we will win the World Series.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
The Yankees may be old, slow and shaky, but our future is secure:
1. We have the new "Ron Guidry" recovering from his first arm surgery.
2. We have Pineda in AA treatment and recovering from his first arm surgery.
3. We have Dellin Bettances still trying to throw a strike and awaiting his first arm surgery.
4. But the true gift for our future lies in our draft picks:
- one at UCLA.
- another playing basketball at Kansas.
- a shortstop from Rochester no one ever writes about.
- a 140 pound center fielder, batting about what Russell Martin hits.
- no prospects at all ( in terms of either age or potential) above "A" ball.
- an entire Yankee minor league team ( Staten Island ) getting used to last place with a 20-40 record.
When we really roll over the mattress (i.e. Jeter, MO, Andy, A-Rod and a few other 35 plus vets ), we will have absolutely no talent except Cano. Grandy and Tex are good players, but not good enough.
And, guess what? Even Cano is not getting younger.
If the greedy, failed and useless brothers, named Hal and Hank, continue to pee on their father's legacy of spending for stars, baseball for Yankee fans will become a rear-view mirror sport for at least a decade.
Boston is facing up to their need to re-tool while we continue to fantasize.
Last game against Boston, Nick at 3B kept knocking balls down, picking them up and tossing our guys out at first - by a bare instant. He was mocking us, deriding us, mooning us. He needs to pay. Now, poof, he's gone. After all the memories, he's a Dodger, and we won't receive our birthright as Yankee fans: Pure unadulterated vengeance.
But I'm wondering about the waiver deal that sent Punto and the Three Stooges to LA. Last month, MLB hyped up something called the "trading deadline" with the ridiculous assumption that teams had to cut deals before it ended. What a joke. Remember the MLB gabfests - for menstral cramp passions, "The View" has nothing on them - breathlessly covering the final ticking moments, as if it mattered?
Now, I'm not sure I understand the rules of waiver deals. They're like the tax code. Way I see it, any team can put a waiver claim on a player, and they go in reverse order of records. So if the Dodgers claimed all four, the Yankees never got a crack at these guys. Still, players often clear waivers and can be traded to anybody. The Yankees let them go.
I sure hope LA grabbed them before we did, because I cannot understand why we'd let Boston refinance so easily. And if LA claimed all four... how could Pittsburgh, the Angels, Detroit, et al, pass on each of them? Adrian Gonzalez wouldn't help the Pirates? Josh Beckett wouldn't be reborn as an Angel? Is nobody else out there even trying to win the pennant?
I'm not sure Boston scored a great deal. These days, young arms aren't what they used to be. But next July, when the ESPN sweatbox starts chattering about the trade deadline, flick its Bic. There's nothing there. Twenty teams punted on Nick Punto. What a joke.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
"We had at least a Wild Card, but now we have nothing," an embittered Karl Rove told NESN Saturday. "They need to get out of the race now and let someone else represent Boston."
Rove suggested that a team headed by Curt Schilling and Jason Varitek be reformed under the Boston banner.
"The fans would instantly recognize those names," Rove said. "Anything beats what we have."
Boston has suffered since early May, when manager Bobby Valentine suggested that every at bat by LF Carl Crawford was "a legitimate rape" of his $17 million contract.
Relive them here.
August 19, 2012 Sunday
A recent letter to the news stated that Joe Girardi should be fired because of his misuse of pitchers and relief pitchers.
Fact: The Yankees have the fourth-best ERA in the American League.
Fact: Only two teams have fewer blown saves than the Yankees.
Fact: Between Michael Pineda, Andy Pettitte, Mariano Rivera, Dave Robertson, Joba Chamberlain and CC Sabathia, the Yankees pitching staff has missed more than 300 games this year.
More facts. They lost Brett Gardner for the season, the league stolen base co-leader in 2011. They have lost A-Rod for at least 40 games.
Oh, by the way, the Yankees have the best record in the American League. Also Girardi's winning percentage as Yankee manager ranks seventh all-time in franchise history.
Those other managers that could replace Girardi, nowhere in sight.
Yankeetorial: And so we close the book on the great Yankee-Boston rivalry of the early New Millenium (and Lackey cries, what about me?)
I feel like the mutt reporter in the final moments of "King Kong." A kid points to the gorilla on the sidewalk, and I say, "It wasn't them planes that killed the beast. T'was beauty that killed the beast."
No, I'm not saying Carl Crawford is pretty.
The word is hubris, folks. Hubris.
Whenever the dictator says the insurgency is quelled, when the king says the locusts are dead, when the President says mission accomplished... run, gadammut, run.
And when a team believes a pennant has been won in April or May... (or August, as we seemed to think two weeks ago...)
Just hubris, folks. Hubris.
And so it ends, the great Yankee-Redsock rivalry, which headlined American sports for a decade. Clemens v. Pedro. The Damon turnaround. Aaron Boone. The bloody sock. And opposing versions of the worst collapse in history. Memories, now.
Our enemy is defeated, and we are staggering forward... tired and bleary... to what? Our own collapse? Another early playoff elimination? Or could we cap this war with a championship?
From where I sit -- which is standing next to the gorilla -- this proposed Redsock-Dodger deal looks like that rare commodity -- a trade that hurts both teams. It will take Boston years to develop a clubhouse leadership unshackled by accusations of back-stabbing and disloyalty. And young arms don't always pay off. (Ask Brain Cashman.) Meanwhile, the Dodgers suddenly look like the best team of 2005. (And Nick Punto has to be asking himself, what did I do?)
The word is hubris, folks. And we better put a lid on ours.
Boston is dead. Tampa Bay is dead-ahead.
Friday, August 24, 2012
The cavalry is coming for Bobby V's Oldetowne Nine.
The one and only David Ortiz will suit up for tonight's big game against KC!
She hated the Yankees.
And she's dead.
He is, my sources say, the most interesting overnight guest in the Palm County jail.
A great joke teller.
Perhaps this tells us he'll be a great locker room presence.
Hank and Hal can pay him $18 million per year to do the laundry.
All together now; 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2.5..........
What if CC doesn't pitch a 2 hit shut out?
What if tonight's game is all up to Jason Nix?
What if Russell Martin hits under .200 for the season?
What if that new, bald guy proves not to be a good fielder, or a clutch hitter?
What if Clay Rapada is really Clay Rapada ?
Yankeetorial: Before we dump The Master, let's us ponder the truth squad that is Skip Bayless and ESPN
This week, out of thin air - or bath salts - Bayless courageously opined that Derek Jeter uses performance enhancing drugs, because he's old and playing well. Of course, he covered himself. He stressed that he has no insider information. He was just talking. Bayless wanted to put himself on the Pulitzer shortlist for Breaking Speculation in Public Service. If he's wrong, well, he was exercising his First Amendment rights - and stirring the ESPN pot, which is his job.
OK, fine. Sports loudmouthing is a cherished tradition, back to the days of David and Goliath. Have at it, Skippy!
But maybe it's time for the John Sterling-bashers of the Yankiverse to ponder what happens when Thuuuuuuh Master gets shelved: ESPN picks up Yankee broadcast rights, which it has long coveted.
Thus, a 2013 Jeterian HR call could be -- A Jeeter Juicer! Whatever drug he's using, gimme some! And who knows, maybe it will come from Curt Schilling. Do we want a Yankee network with a Redsock tain? Remember: last winter, Bobby Valentine and Francona simply switched jobs. Some Yankee fans believe it's OK for every team in baseball to have a homer - except the Yankees.
Once upon a time, you were supposed to be innocent until proven guilty. We all know that's a joke. Today, any accusation automatically goes into the Google record, and once there, it never leaves. Of course, Skip Bayless knows this. All pedophiles do.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
|Felix deals in front of his "King's Court."|
|Montero: Loves Pineda coladas and walks in the rain..|
Ah, yes...With the expected return of veteran superstar CC Sabathia, the Bombers have to be feeling clucky about their 5-game lead in the AL Wild Card races. They have the luxury of penciling in CC for that all-important single game season, then having Hiroki Kuroda start game one of the actual playoffs!
Looks like we'll play Baltimore or California in that Wild Card Game. Right now, we'd have home field advantage, although there's still 38 games to play. Take nothing for granted, Yankiverse!
So... will we be facing Jered Weaver? Or do we have to start looking at the Baltimore rotation?
One big advantage: Soon, we'll open the Scranton roster, being able to bring up Adam Warren, Austin Romine, Frankie Cervelli, Chris Dickerson and Corey Wade. The cavalry is coming!
And let's not rule out the chance of Brain Cashman pulling off some waiver coupe. Whatever we need, he's patrolling the wires as we speak.
Also, if the team tanks, it will be easier for the Steinbrothers to shrink payroll down to the ideal $187 million next spring! Things couldn't be coming up rosier! Lalalalalalalalala. Hey, look, a revolver! I wonder if it's loaded?
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
So, do we have a travel day tomorrow?
When do we score another run?
What a smash mouth team.
We only struck out 13 times. Grandy, I think, has struck out 170 times so far.
But as long as Derek keeps setting records we can remind ourselves of what longevity will do for a ball club.
Football starts September 5th.
Four-game lead. Thirty-nine left to play.
OK. Getagrip. Listen: We are in freefall. The plane is going to crash. Don your life vests. Take your positions. Hold in your minds one rock of purity, one card to play, one last hope of untainted virture. He is somewhere in Texas with his hoof in a giant medicated Zino pad. Maybe he is working the toes, learning to type with his feet like Daniel Day Lewis. Or maybe he is testing it, pushing himself, because we need Andy Pettitte like Italy needs olives. We need him to save our falling butts.
Because listenup... We're out of juju. We're out of starters. We're out of minor league pitchers with a month of arm-strength. The cupboard is bare. We're not signing Wally Whitehurst. Folks, we're stuck on this crazy island, and Joba keeps reappearing - even though he's dead - and motioning for us to follow him into the live volcano. Bad idea, people. We've seen the show. BAD IDEA.
Yesterday, I did the math.
We have 39 games left. (Make it 40, because math is not my strong suit.)
If w we can win six of 10 - .600 percentage – the Rays have to do 7 of 10. That's the 1927 Yankees. We need six of 10.
But how? Every 10 games is two turns of the rotation. It's no stretch to think Kuroda and Sabathia can win three of their four. Halfway there. Thus, we need three wins from the others. That's where we get lost.
Right now, maybe Hughes maybe wins one of his two. But Freddy is imploding, Nova is horrible, Phelps is shaky, Scranton doesn't exist, and our bullpen can kill us at any time. (Not to mention Robbie Cano is terrible right now.)
We have one hope, folks. His name is Andy Pettitte. If he makes it back by Sept. 11, he's maybe four starts. We need four wins.
Mayday, mayday. Come in, Andy. We are the survivors of Yankee-Oceanic Airlines Flight 2012. Captain Girardi has gone crazy. We are stranded on a tropical island somewhere in the Pacific. It is sinking. Please write down these coordinates... 6 of 10, 6 of 10, 6 of 10... mayday. mayday, can you hear me? Does anybody hear me...
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
In addition to eliminating social security, medicare and taxes for the 1%, rumors are appearing in tweets everywhere that this dynamic duo has a plan to save billions from major league baseball.
The principle rumor is this: THE RED SOX WILL BE BANNED FROM FURTHER PARTICIPTION IN THE SPORT.
BANNED BY ROMNEY/RYAN TICKET
The rumors are based upon his desire to get back at the people of the state he used to govern for allowing him to pass Romneycare.
In place of the Red Sox, so the unofficial stories go, a new franchise will be awarded to Salt Lake City.
The new team will be called the "Mormonaters," and they will be in the AL East.
Personally, I feel this is the duo's best platform idea.
So it is the bottom of the 5th and we are up 3-0.
The phantom double over third base is called back and, instead of a White Sock on second with no out, we have one out and no one on.
Freddy is already at 95 pitches in the Chicago sun.
The next guy gets a hit.
The next guy goes yard and the game stands at 3-2.
The next guy gets a hit.
Excuse me, Joe, what the frig are you doing? Giving an interview on tv?
It's so important to let Freddy get 5 innings under his belt for an unlikely win that you leave him in when he is clearly spent, can't throw strikes, has lost his good stuff ( 76 mph ), and is getting hammered?
Joe has done that more than once this year.
I would have pulled Freddy the moment he gave up the first legit hit there in the fifth. It was almost 100 pitches by then.
On the other hand, it isn't going to matter.
This team ( look at the line-up ) isn't going to win a lot more games.
If we don't hit 4 homers, and we can't get to Soriano, we are going down early and often.
Maybe Joba needs a second midge attack to reverse the bad ju-ju from the first one. He is clearly nothing at the moment.
It's not Shark Week. It's Ark Week.
Listen: Forget the drought, the floods, the wildfires, the death of that Beastie Boy and even the demonic-seeded pregnancy of Jennifer Aniston. For my money, the first omen appeared in the human guise of Corey Wade. For months, he was Corey Koufax. Then, bang, Colter Bean. It wa like watching Jerry Lewis devolve from Buddy Love in The Nutty Professor. Corey is now roaming the NYS Thruway for a Sbarro's that serves liquor, hoping to forget his last outing for the "Scranton" Pavement Floaters: He surrendered a three-run homer. His exile to Triple A has become a microcosm of our entire season: Lights out, bang, Colter Bean.
Now it's Joba. Disney Channel story of the year. Returns after Tommy John and the Kidz Zone. Last night he dinged Youkilis - (great nostalgia moment, btw! Youk's 16th career HBP against the Yankees; if he stays healthy, he can take 20!). Whenever Joba appears, it's that Mothman movie: Something bad happens. Joe cannot pitch him without a 10-run cushion. Joba comes in with a cloud over his head. With his contract running out, we must now ponder the end of Joba as a Yankee: His great days came early. After that, he was not Joba. He was Brian Bruney.
Epply, Rapata, even David Robertson - who do we have in the bullpen that can stop the rising sea? Soriano?
Four-game lead. That's a series. That's a week. That's half of Freddy Garcia's remaining starts.
We thought it couldn't happen. We thought Brett Gardner would return. We thought Pineda would heal. We thought we could simply hit home runs and bludgeon our way to a division title, then take our chances in the post-season. We have 19 games left with the Rays, Orioles and - yes - the zombie Redsocks, who have nothing left to live for other than hurting us in a big series.
We face Boston on the three games of our season.
Do we want them ruling our fate at the End of Times? Double bubble toil and trouble. WTF was THAT? Did you hear a shrieking sound off in the distance? Colter Bean has risen from the grave...
Monday, August 20, 2012
Michael Pineda, the Yankee, is working hard in south Florida to get his body and mind in shape for the 2013 season. He has taken a page from Carl Pavano: Eat KFC by the bucket Hang with babe in convertibles Crash into garbage trucks Recently, Michael left a bar at 3am and drove straight to a Yankee work out facility, to test his surgical arm. This is one dedicated Yankee who, at 355 pounds, wants to win the hearts and minds of Yankee fans everywhere. Unfortunately, and perhaps unfairly, he was stopped for another DUI and had to spend the night in the can. I mean jail.
Well, we all know the answer: General managers with MBAs, who don't give a crap about traditions of the game. They just need bizarre merch-marketing schemes. Crazier the better. And they don't fear clunkers, either. They change the name every few years.
Prefixes: (Choose one)
Laughing... Speckled... Barn... Morning... Sewer... Pavement... Sky...
Thunder... Pond... Highway... Sonic... Candy... Stinging... Invisible...
Suffixes: (Choose one)
Beagles... Berries... Flossers... Pigeons... Crannies... Croakers...Worms... Peaches... Poachers... Cakes... Floaters... Yokes... Kernals...
The Elmira Laughing Beagles.
The Utica Morning Flossers
The Cortland Thunder Crannies
The Batavia Sewer Peaches
The Oneida Barn Kernals
The Lowville Sonic Worms
The Watertown Stinging Pigeons
The Massina Sky Yokes...
Go ahead: Name your team!
Folks, this is epic, historic... worthy a Jared Diamond book. This is Ozymandius. This is a narrative poem by a blind ancient Greek. We have witnessed one of the most spectacular downfalls in sports history - no, human history. The great Boston run that began in 2002 has ended, ten years later.
We have been there. Boston is Steinbrennerian, circa 1986. Nick Punto is Lenn Sakata, John Lackey is Ed Whitson, and Carl Crawford is Danny Tartabull. Larry Luccino is Murray Cook, John Henry is wavy-haired George, and the city of Boston is the ever-burning Bronx of yesterday, as piloted by Dick Young, Abe Beam and Bernie Goetz.
They chased away their team captain, their manager and their general manager - architects of two World Championships - with pitch forks.
They traded Kevin Youkilis just to be rid of Kevin Youkilis.
They ran Papelbon out of town, just as they did Roger Clemens and Wade Boggs nearly a generation earlier.
They booed Johnny Damon so lustily that, despite all he'd done for them, he refused to return.
Oh, and did I mention that Curt Schilling will not be a future candidate for U.S. Senate?
Two Redsocks - Josh Beckett and David Ortiz - remain from the 2004 team, which blew a mile-deep crater into our lives. It is likely that neither will return next year. Boston has had enough. Will Middlebrooks is the future. They intend to press REBOOT.
Listen: This is what humanity does best. We rise, and then we fall. Hard. One day, the Mayans run Mexico. Then, kaboom, they're gone, and we can't even understand their calendar.
What is world history other than the sad fate of great baseball teams - the lost colonies, the lost civilizations, and the hubris of dynasties that were suddenly obliterated by a storm or a microbe or a pretty face?
Let the PBS historians argue about what really happened to Boston. But today, as we dance on their grave, let us face the reality of our own brief moment in the sunlight.
Nothing lasts forever.
One of these days, Derek Jeter will close his locker, and we will never see the likes of him again.
One of these days, Mariano Rivera will say it's over, and no one like him will ever appear in pinstripes.
Blink, and 10 years go by.
And 10 years in baseball is a career.
Boston (2002-12) is no more. Our rivalry is moving to Baltimore. Long live the Varitek Redsocks. Next time we see them, it will be in an old-timers day game.
(Oh, and if Chavez retires, should we sign Youk in the off-season as backup 3B?)
Sunday, August 19, 2012
To the Editor:
I recently took my 9-year-old grandson, a big Yankees fan, to see a New York Yankees' ballgame. Our plan was to arrive in New York City about 12:30 p.m., (scheduled arrival time), meet my son who works in the city, see the sights and take the subway to Yankee Stadium for a 7 p.m. game. On game day we awoke at 5 a.m. and arrived at the Syracuse Amtrak station at 6:15 a.m. for a 7 a.m. departure. As departure time neared, an announcement was made that the train would be half an hour late due to traffic lights not working. After repeated delays, we boarded for a 9 a.m. departure.
We finally arrived at Penn Station about 3 p.m. Our plans to see the 9/11 Memorial and the Statue of Liberty were reduced to viewing the memorial from the street and the statue from the distant view of Battery Park. The stadium, the Yankees' Memorial Park and seeing the delight and excitement displayed by my son and grandson was a wonderful experience. However, the following day we returned to Central New York after a hot, (the air conditioner was not working), six-hour train ride.
We have the ability to create a high-speed rail system, and we even have the offering of tax dollars to do it. I ask that our legislators do what is necessary to make high-speed rail a reality.
"We are a light year ahead of Boston. They are done, and everybody knows it. We are resting critical players for October, and we have built a comfy-cozy lead. Baltimore will fade. Tampa isn't as strong as they think. We just took three out of four from Texas. We will soon welcome back Arod, Andy and Tex, plus all those major league vets we stashed all season on the NY State Thruway. We are golden. Nothing bad can happen."
Yeah, right. Made you feel sick, didn't it?
If we lose tonight, it's be the second home series we've blown to a team that couldn't beat Minnesota a week ago, a team that's still collapsing from last year, and a lousy team, to boot.
If we lose tonight, we will literally have picked up Boston - Josh Beckett, Teacher's Pet and company - dusted them off, given them water and sent them out to play the last month like it matters.
If we lose tonight, we can't beat the Redsocks... well... it's 2011 all over again... in reverse?
I'm sorry, folks. I understand that everything in paragraph one is true. But all year we've watched this homer-happy team go wet in the crotch with runners in scoring position, and we know what happens when free-swingers wade into the playoffs -- how the Fisters and the Hollands turn us into Russell Branyan and Jack Cust. We've been hoping the Yankees elevate their game - not soil the baselines when it counts.
I'm sorry, folks, but it's too early to grow our playoff beards. We lose tonight, and we're a house of cards.
I know, I know, I know... There's a lot of baseball left to play. That's what scares me.
August 12, 2012 Sunday
Saturday, August 18, 2012
NEW YORK -- Boston reliever Craig Breslow, of Trumbull, Conn., and catcher Ryan Lavarnway on Saturday became what is thought to be the first all-Yale battery in the major leagues since 1883.
We're going to take this comfortable pillow and set it over your face. Do not fight. Do not be sad. There will be no pain. There will be no more sadness. When you wake up - well - you will be in a better place than this.
Don't move. Just say right there. Close your eyes. It all be over soon.