Friday, March 29, 2019

Grades!

All right, grades are in!  From the television side:

Right out of the box,  my screen was filled with players hitting to the opposite field, taking walks, getting on base.  I wanted to ask, 'Who are you guys, and what have you done with my New York Yankees?'

Not that I'm complaining.  (When do I ever complain?)

So, starting with the lineup:

Aaron Judge:  A.  The big guy looked like a more complete ballplayer than ever.  He hit to the opposite field, ran up two singles and two walks, scored three runs, made a strong throw to keep a runner from advancing to second, and made an alert, aggressive play on the bases, taking third on a base hit.  It was a delight to watch.

Luke Voit:  A.  The guy picked up right where he left off.  If Judge and Stanton keep getting on base like they did today, he and Andujar are going to collect a ton of ribbies.

Giancarlo Stanton:  B.  Less chasing, a hit and two walks, no mistakes in the field.

The Gleyber:  B.  A single and a superb play in the field to save a run.

El Matador:  B.  He is hitting everything hard again, and came within inches of having a monster game at the plate.  His arm looked as strong as ever in the field—why ISN'T this guy playing left field?—and the error was not all his fault.  But he also blocked Tulo on another grounder and seems to have been the one who set off that schoolyard blunder on the infield fly rule double-play.

Sancho:  C.  There were signs of life at the plate, including a dogged at-bat and a single where he stayed within himself.  In the field, there were no passed balls, and an excellent job of framing pitches.  But in the end, he popped up after that long at-bat, and left five guys on base.  Room for improvement!

Tulo:  C.  Nice to see that late-game double.  But he also looked like a statue on the bases and in the field a couple innings before.  Not much movement in evidence.

Greg Bird:  C— .  Until that late home run, it looked as if the first-base fight was going to be decided in Game 1.  Three woeful strikeouts, and the error that set up the Orioles' first run was at least as much his fault as Andujar's.  A garbage-time homer against the Baltimore bullpen doesn't exactly make up for that, but at least it was something.

Gardy:  D—.  No hits, a strikeout, and a ball hit over his head to score the second Orioles run.  Plus a failure to quite beat out an infield dribbler he would've turned into a hit two years ago.  Sure looked like a player going on past his time, sad to say.

Tanaka:  A.  Terrific effort, fired, as the booth said, by his usual perfectionism.  Neither run was really his fault.  But let's keep in mind he was putting down the closest thing to a minor-league team I think I've ever seen in the majors.

The Pen:  A.  Everybody looked terrific, especially Ottavino.

Aaron Boone:  F.  There is no reason to close out a five-run lead against the Orioles with your top reliever—especially after a season in which he's landed on the DL with a knee-injury.  We will need every inning Chappie can give us late in the season.

Coops: F.  If not for more injuries, one of our first baseman—and hence, one of our two home runs—would've already taken the first thing smoking out of town for a lottery ticket arm.  Cash's luck is just extraordinary sometimes.

Paul O'Neill:  F.  Pandering Paul had to tell us that he LOVED the new, split-screen method the Yanks have hit upon to shove still more ads into every part of the telecast, now even as the game is proceeding.  No need to kiss-up, Paulie—and no need for Zieg Hal to rip us off for even more money.

The TV Team:  D.  An interminable, confused discussion about the infield fly rule, which no one seemed to know or understand.

Also:  one of the very worst Opening Day ceremonies.  It was great to see The Great One, of course.  But there seemed to be no one else of note on hand, no references to the Yanks' great legacies.

Simply blaring the same two loops of Star Wars music, over and over, for both teams' introductions—evil for Baltimore, good for the home team, of course—was nearly unbearable.  Among other things, guys, the Orioles don't exactly look Vader-esque these days.

And time for a moratorium on introducing all the clubhouse guys as if they were on the team.  The Orioles actually had six, out-of-uniform personnel line up along the third base line.  The Yanks had eight, including two equipment managers, the strength-and-conditioning coach, and the director of strength and conditioning.  Both teams had their massage therapists announced.

Basta.  Bring out the starting lineups and the manager, and let's get on with it.

So are we to the stage of meaningfulness yet?  I dunno.  These Orioles are simply pathetic.  On the other hand, I give the Yankees some credit for managing to merely stay alert as a parade of hurlers issued one walk after another.

Onward and upward!





9 comments:

  1. Both Stanton and Judge had opposite field base hits that sparked a rally and lead to runs. I need more of this. A lot more.




    Again, regarding the ownership and management, fuckers.

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  2. I was still too angry about the offseason to watch or listen, but I know that can't last. Thanks for the rundown, Hoss, you filled in the details nicely for me.

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  3. HC66 -- F, for small-sample imbecility.

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  4. John’s warble was joyful and mid-season throaty. His discussion of the calendars with Suzyn felt like sexual subterfuge to me. Innuendo. A sign of spring. I wish he spent more time discussing the errands he ran before the Welcome Home dinner held the evening prior to Opening Day. Dry cleaner? Pharmacist? Grocery store? Massage parlor? I’ve often said that Hollywood has missed the boat—John should be the star of a network sitcom. Something like Mr. Belvedere meets Ally McBeal with a dash of vintage Magnum PI. And when I say network I really mean cable channel so there’d be no doubt about the occasional swear word or even an ass shot from time to time. Yes, Dennis Franz showed ass on ABC but I mean something more artistic and natural. John would not do gratuitous nudity.

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  5. Little Stat Baby -- F, for failed, humorless, mentally-ill Fop. You hate people and have no sense of humor.

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  6. Thanks for filling us in on this, Bill White.

    You know, I really wish Parsimonious Hal would look into saving dollars by paring the Yanks' broadcast booth. I loved Paul O'Neill as a player; I find him a tedious whiner as an announcer. Michael Kay kan kiss my kishkas.

    Back in the day, Red Barber, Mel Allen, and Phil Rizzuto worked radio AND TV for the Yanks. This was standard for a long time, for many teams. The announcers would alternate between media, with the color commentator working as a swing man.

    Why not now? Have The Master and Memphis Sue work radio AND television, with maybe Cone and Kenny Singleton trading off as their color guys with them. Fire the rest—save for Meredith as the on-field reporter.

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  7. You forgot one: Hoss-Man 66: A+. We were watching the same game, with precisely the same thoughts & feelings. You wrote up mine beautifully, thanks...and you set off Puckered, with ease. All in all, one of your best performances, small sample, or no.
    That includes the after-piece concerning the broadcast crew. Bravo, bravissimo!
    LB (No J)

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