9-9

 

I'm sure that, by now, Brian Cashman has fired whatever poor slob in the Yankees' front office scheduled the latest-ever Old Timers' Day for September 9th. 

Or, more likely, it was Cashie himself. The move has his usual arrogance and too-clever-by-half calculations written all over it.

"Oh, we're gonna celebrate the 25th anniversary of the 1998 team and Derek Jeter, are we? Well, we'll have it late enough in the year that we will have already wrapped up the division and be coasting toward the playoffs. No one's gonna be chanting 'Fi-re Cash-man' THAT DAY!"

Yeah.

Your New York Yankees right now are in free fall, on the schneid such as I have never seen or heard of with a Yankees team, save for late 2000 and 2022. (Hmm, what could be the common denominator there?)

They are finding ways to lose, bedeviled particularly by the team's insistence on a clearly awful hitting approach, but also hobbled by lousy pitching, fielding, and mental mistakes—not to mention the ceaseless injuries that this team endures, year-in and year-out.

The 2000 slide was particularly terrifying, coming just as the Yanks seemed to be peaking that year, opening up a 9-game lead on the hapless Red Sox (Remember when the Red Sox were still hapless? Ah, me.) with only 18 games to go.

Then, apparently exhausted by having had only 1 off-day in the last month-and-a-half, the Yanks eased up on the throttle and couldn't find "drive" again. They went 3-15 the rest of the way, getting beat badly, and often falling hopelessly behind in the early innings (sound familiar)?

The team's starting pitching had become perilously thin that year, with David Cone's meltdown. But never fear: GM Brian Cashman had packaged 4 prospects for NL star Denny Neagle, a veteran southpaw so tough he had been unable to get out of the 6th inning with a 6-0 lead against us in the third game of the 1996 World Series.

Denny went 7-7 with a 5.81 ERA in 15 starts as a Yankee in 2000, including 0-3 during the Great Swoon. 

Fortunately, Hapless Boston wasn't coming, and the Yanks hung on to win by 2 1/2 games—then miraculously turned it on again in a deliriously fun postseason, to post their third straight championship.

Last year, I'm sure, you remember all too well. 

After building up a seemingly insurmountable, 15 1/2-game lead over Tampa Bay on July 8th, the Yanks scuffled a bit, going 9-11, as Ace Manager Aaron Boone seemed to decide the race was over, experimenting with this and that rather than just trying to win ballgames. 

Still, the Yanks remained 12 games up on August 1st, when Cashman decided to pull The Big Deal, bringing in an Invalid Corps of assorted moaxes, led by "Frankie Says: I'm Done" Montas. The Yankees immediately went on a 3-14 slide, their lead dropping all the way to 3 1/2 games before they finally got the nose up again, thanks only to Aaron Judge assuming the role of Superman. 

Frankie went 1-3 with a 6.81 ERA, and appeared in the playoffs just long enough to surrender a long, insurance-run homer to Jeremy Pina in Houston, before exiting our lives forever. So long, Frankie. We'll see you in our dreams—the ones accompanied by lots of restless leg movements and eye twitching.

Now, here we are in 2023. The Big Schneid's already at 2-9, and this time there is no huge lead, no core of gutsy, seasoned vets or superhero performances to fall back on. Superman's wearing a kryptonite cape, and the rest of the team looks like a collection of ant men.

This time, Cashman seems to have brought in a perfect amalgam of Neagle and Montas in Carlos "Kiss Me Kate" Rodon, a portly free spirit who seems to be, shall we say, less-than-inspired about little things like getting in shape or pitching.

Thus far, Mr. Kissy Face is at 1-4, 7.33, bidding fair to be Brian Cashman's very WORST pitching acquisition, ever. 

Hey, the real pros only get better with time, am I right?

So here we are—and we can just imagine where we'll be on 9/9, only three weeks from today.

9-9. Back in the day, it used to be the ultimate help signal from the New York Fire Department, the all-points alarm that there was a fire so immense it required every truck available.

9-9.

Like every other great Yankees tradition—the Stadium, the uniforms, winning World Series—the present regime has managed to tinker with and spoil Old-Timers' Day, and spoil it. The big day used to be on a sunny July or early-August afternoon, but now it's after Labor Day, when the shadows start to creep in around the season.

They've canceled the generally hilarious game the old-timers used to play (Quite intensely in the  very old days. Apparently Joe DiMaggio hit a grand-slam home run in one, and an inside-the-park homer in another.), and reduced it all to introductions.

And this year the introductions will include...Derek Jeter.

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH.

I expect his name to ring from the rafters all afternoon. Interspersed with chants of "Sell the team!" should HAL dare to make an appearance (he won't), and "Fi-re Cash-man!" whether or not The Great Brain shows himself. 

Followed, perhaps, by chants of "Hi-re Der-ek!"?  Just a suggestion.