Like most self-loathing fan sites, we are a Chicken Little blog: When the Yankees lose, the sky's crashing, tornado sirens are blaring, the beer tap's sputtering, Wolf Blitzer appears in a hood with a scythe, and that's Chinatown, Jake!
Last night, we died from a thousand cuts, squandering a late-inning rally and going belly-up in the 9th on a DP grounder from the one player - DJ LeMahieu - whose heroism seemed his destiny. Screw Chinatown, Jake. How the eff could we lose this game, how?
Well, as they say these days in Tornado Alley, conditions look ripe for more. The Yankees face San Diego's ace, as we launch James Paxton's rehab from a Gayle Sayers knee. If we've seen anything from our returning stars, it's that they often need a few games to acclimate. So be it. We need Paxton, knee and all.
But a loss today could officially end the "no-name" Yankee hot streak of April-May, the game's most Disneyesque narrative of 2019. We would lose 2 of 3 to the Padres, at home - and three of our last four - with big-spending Boston hitting town for four. (Game one: Chris Sale v. TBD. Ugh.)
It's stupid and naive to read too much into one game. But baseball can be chaos. Now and then, one inning, one at-bat, one play - hell, even one pitch - seems to dictate the course of a team.
Sherman, set the Wayback to the night of April 21. Wow. We're here: The Yankees have finally climbed above .500, and are hosting KC. Clint Frazier hits a three-run HR, giving us a 5-run lead, which Chad Green and Adam Ottavino blow. In the 10th, with the score 6-6, their Hunter Dozier leads off with a single. The Royals bring in their secret weapon, speedster Terrance Gore, to pinch run. He's swiped 4 bases this season, been caught once. Meanwhile, Gary Sanchez has been flinging balls into the Hudson, and the whisperers suggest it's a thing. Immediately, Gore takes off on Zack Britton. Sanchez throws a rifle strike. Gore out. Threat over. A few plays later, Austin Romine smacks a walk-off single. Yankees win, thuuuugh Yankees win.
They take the next six of seven, rising to lead the AL East. They have not lost a series since May 1 in Arizona. But this afternoon, conditions look ripe. A loss today, and we've crapped three out of four. With Boston coming.
Before leaving, I want to address the Bronx greeting that's been given to Manny Machado this week. At every turn, Yankee fans have booed him.
Fine. I'm all for booing opposing players, especially guys who have killed us over the years, as Machado has done. Fans pay the money, and they have the right to boo. Now THAT, Jake, is Chinatown.
Still, I cannot escape the feeling that fans are booing Machado because he didn't sign with the Yankees. That, I don't get. The fact is, Manny never had the chance to sign with the Yankees. The ownership never made him an offer. They took him out to dinner one night, and they posed for pictures, but no contract offer ever came. Machado's wife wanted New York, and he waited weeks for an offer that was never going to come.
Again, if fans want to boo, fine. Boo him because he's a Padre, because he was an Oriole, because he makes too much money, or that he said something stupid about jogging, or that he wears A-Rod's old number. Any reason works.
But Machado didn't scorn the Yankees. They scorned him. And while we love Gio Urshela at 3B, and LeMahieu has been great, and Miguel Andujar will return next year... all of the above... my guess is that, by year's end, Machado will have outhit them all. It's a long season. And winds change quickly.
Wednesday, May 29, 2019
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7 comments:
Any day above ground is a good day.
Unless you are a worm of a team about to get devoured by a hungry bird of a team. Fear the Red Sox!
Hungry bird of a team? You mean the last place Orioles?
There's no good reason to suppose that Machado will outhit anyone of distinction. When he was playing for the Orioles, his offensive numbers away from Camden Yards were LEAGUE AVERAGE for third basemen. Sometimes it pays to look at the real numbers as an antidote to the mass hypnosis of hype. But if someone wants to take comfort in a prospective fantasy to justify his advocacy of spending the GDP of Luxembourg on a mediocrity, so be it.
Duque, you are very right.
Booing him smacks of small-market nonsense.
It's like how Orioles fans used to boo Teixeira—NEVER an Oriole!—because he chose not to come to Baltimore.
Or—more to the point—about how Red Sox fans never forgave Roger Clemens for management tossing him out on his ear. And then for another team's management trading him to the Yankees.
There are plenty of reasons to hate Clemens. Those just aren't the ones.
And I also fear the worm turning now.
As a great man once said, "There is a mysterious cycle in human events..."
Baseball seasons, too. Which is why, whenever you have a chance to beat a team, you grab it and shake it by the neck like a rat terrier going after its prey.
The game I refer to was the KC finale. You just don't leave those on the table; they come back to haunt you. They are the outings that can start the slide.
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