Few positions appear rock solid through the next millennium. But if we’re not stuffed to the wheelhouse with catchers, then take me to the train station and unhitch my red caboose, because my loco engine has run off the rails. (I have no clue what that metaphor means, but it sounded good coming off the bat.)
Yesterday, we were visited by the Ghosts of Catchmas Present
and Future. They both hit home runs. First was Brian McCann, the Catcher of
Now. Then it was Gary Sanchez, the Catcher of Tomorrow. We also have Francisco
Cervelli, the Catcher of Yesterday, and Austin Romine, the Catcher of Five
Minutes ago and maybe Five Minutes from Now. Then there is the Catcher of the
Alternative Future, J.R. Murphy and – stay with me here – the Catcher of the
Distant Future, Peter O’Brien, and yet another catcher they signed from
Venezuela, the Catcher of the Next Age - I’m talking Arthur Clarke stuff here –
and he’s so far off that we really cannot know his name. We’ll call him Jorge
3000.
This remarkable surplus is going to come in handy,
especially considering our problems at third base. Remember how the used to
call Brooks Robinson “the Vacuum Cleaner?” The Yankees third base is just known
as “the Vacuum.” And if catching represented our hopes and dreams, third base
represents the sum of our Yankee fears.
We have the third baseman of the past and future, A-Rod, who
- like those newly discovered CERN nanoparticles – can actually inhabit two
locations in time. We have the third baseman of the moment, Kelly Johnson, but he
is only for this precise moment; if you blink or look away, he could be gone – to
second base, or nowhere. He may not exist. Then we have the third baseman who
exists only in theory, Scott Sizemore, because half the fans think he’s Grady
Sizemore, and the other have think he’s Scott Spiezio, and he might not hit,
and he might not field. Then we have the third baseman who comes via the San Diego
wormhole, Dean Anna. Last year, in the Pacific Coast League, he was Rod Carew.
But that was an alternative universe, not the one we inhabit. Here, he might be
Cod Rarew. Finally, we have Eduardo Nunez, who stands at the absolute nexus
between science and religion, where all truth becomes fiction and reality only
exists in the imagination. Chew on that for awhile, next time Nuni comes up
with men on base. But here’s the deal, when he’s not playing, Nunez looks
great. When he’s in there, he sucks.
The Creator of this time and space conundrum – Brian Cashman
– is waiting to trade one of our catchers – from the past, near present or
future – for a third baseman who actually exists in the real, luxury-tax-paying
world. Supposedly, there are excess infielders with the Diamondbacks and White
Sox, two franchises that, by the way, have never been known for doing us
favors. What do I know? I know this: When the Yankees signed Brett Gardner to a
long-term deal, the fine print said that one of their catchers was going to be
traded. Yesterday, two balls left the park, courtesy of our catchers. One of
these days, a Yankee catcher will follow.
1 comment:
You neglected to mention " the ghost of catchers' past," the incomparable tuna, Jesus Montero.
He, I fear, reflects the true value of each Yankee catching prospect.
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