Introducing the first-ever Top 15 all-time coolest Yankees (counting down, numbers 15 through 11)

Friday, the National Portrait Gallery opened a unique exhibit, "American Cool," with 100 photographs of men and women who defined the essence of coolness. We're talking about James Dean and Debbie Harry, Elvis and Muhammad Al, Mustang and Alphonso, et al.

But it got me to a-thinkin. Who are the top 15 coolest Yankees of all-time? They had to be hip, fashionable, calm, collected - the type who embodied coolness.

Sorry, Yogi.  Nice try, Thurman. I apologize, Donnie Baseball. But coolness has an icy, above-it-all subversiveness. The truly cool Yankee isn't necessarily in the Hall of Fame. He might not even be that good. But everything he does is - well - cool.

So here is my list, starting at 15. Later in the week, we'll put it to a poll.

15. Fritz Peterson: Had lowest ERA of any Yankee pitcher in old Yankee Stadium; took part in ultimate 1960s hipster move - swapped wives. (Won the swap.) Was favorably portrayed in Jim Bouton's book "Ball Four." Became blackjack dealer in casino. Would be played by Matt Damon or Ben Affleck in projected movie. Cool, eh?

 14. Jim Bouton: Wrote “Ball Four,” starred in own TV show, was TV sports anchor in NYC, did college lecture circuit, made hugely hyped (brief) comeback as knuckleballer, (but how many guys get a third act?) smoked grass, was delegate to 1972 Democratic National Convention in support of George McGovern.  Had to be getting laid by young liberal groupies well into his 40s.

13. Doc Ellis: Hail Mary pick. Once tried to hit every batter in Cincinnati's fabled Big Red Machine; came to the Yankees with Willie Randolph and won 17 games. Partied like hell. After retirement, got himself sober and counseled drug addicts in prison, until his death in 2008, at age 63. Oh, and one other thing: He threw a no-hitter on acid. Anybody else you know ever do that?

12. Oscar Gamble: Was called "The Big O" by Phil Rizzuto; owner of greatest Afro in baseball history; (the picture below, in his Yankee years, doesn't do justice to what he had in other cities). He once hit .358 with 19 HRs but didn't have enough ABs to qualify for the batting title; despite his 'fro, became a favorite of the white-bread NYC Yankee sportswriters; a flawless career with never one glitch.

 

11. Sparky Lyle: The first Yankee star closer to have his own signature entering theme song; the one played for high school graduations; he was famous for sitting naked in birthday cakes; co-wrote best-seller “The Bronx Zoo,” one of the lasting legacies of that Yankee team. Wore a signature mustache (in later years, not shown below); and stopped sitting in cakes because - get this - he feared somebody would put an upraised spike in one. (That, my friends, is the thinking man's cool).

Coming tomorrow, the Top 10. Feel free to lobby.

There's NO Yankees like SHOW Yankees, there's NO Yankees I know...

The "Bronx Bombers" opened on Broadway last week, and from the sounds of things, it's meant to appeal to the kind of soft-headed Yankee fan who always cheers when the team trades three young prospects for a former all-star. I dunno what to make of it, except I doubt there are any jokes about Slade Heathcott.

I think an edgier show about the Yankees could have been titled:

a) A Boras Line
b) My Fair Yogi
c) La Cage aux Farnsworth
d) Man of La Munson
e) Fiddler on the Ruth
f) Pipp In. (Think of the showstopping song: "Hello, Wally, this is Lou, Wally...")

I don't mean to condemn what I haven't seen. (That's a policy switch, BTW.) But in my life, I've learned to be leery of flag-waving super-patriots, country-western singers in cowboy hats, weekend warrior lawyers who play rugby, people who lecture you about politics based on TV and radio talk shows, and fans who dress themselves head to foot in Yankee swag, sit in luxury boxes and then whisper, "Which one is A-Rod?"

Sounds like that's the crowd here. But I could be wrong. I dunno. I'm still trying to rid my head of La Cage aux Farnsworth. Anyway... some observations.

Wall Street Journal: "


Of course, the audience doesn't seem to mind. Last Wednesday, the occasional Yankee cap could be spotted in the crowd, and a few team jerseys mixed in with the sweater vests of the theatergoing crowd, with Steiner Sports predictably hawking Yankee memorabilia in the lobby. They applauded the entrance of each luminary Yankee, and roared when the team's logo came to the fore at the end. And why not? The play aims to please them at every turn, pointing out to the paying customers that "it's about the people, not the building," as they tear down the beloved old Yankee Stadium (wonder if the Yankees made sure that one was slipped in?)  

New York Times: 

The play opened Thursday at Circle in the Square, where the lobby is filled with oversize photographs of Yankees and steeply priced signed memorabilia. The theater in the round is ringed by a fiber-wood copy of the Yankee Stadium facade. And some fans came dressed as if to a game, in Yankees jerseys and jackets, sat in old Yankee Stadium chairs and posed in front of replica lockers.

Variety

These Olympian immortals don’t actually say or do much of dramatic note in a play that’s noticeably lacking in drama.   But it’s interesting to get their perspectives on the vicissitudes of big league baseball over the years.  Mickey Mantle, for example, blames the Sixties for the seismic shift when ballplayers went from playing on teams to performing as personalities.  But their collective presence is enough to reassure Yogi that they embody the spirit of the Yankees and that spirit will live on forever.  And maybe that’s all it takes to make the fans happy.

Them smartypants Steinbrenners went out and got themselves one a them dadgum an-na-lizers

Excitement is building over the changes in the Yankee farm system!

Down the hall from (Yankee brass Mark) Newman’s office sits a “PhD in advanced math and statistics,” says Newman, a statistical analyst devoted to the player development department. The Yankees have added other staff and scouts.

We hired a statistics cruncher? Like in Moneyball? 

PINCH ME, EVERYBODY, PINCH ME!

The Yanks are upgrading the (Tampa minor league) facility, adding a building that will house meeting rooms and a cafeteria for players, as well as refurbishing the four diamonds. Building a dormitory for prospects is being discussed, too.

A new cafeteria? THIS IS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE!

START PRINTING THE PLAYOFF TICKETS!

Another Yankee time machine...

No moving parts. Just pain.

Tamping down expections, are we? Cashman expects Tanaka to go 11-11

Brian Cashman says the gold-plated, 24-0, bulwark from Japan should function as the Yankees' third starter next year, after CC and Kuroda.

Last year's number three was Andy Pettitte, who won 11 and lost 11.

Well, here's one optimistic way of viewing it: At least Cashman doesn't figure Tanaka as starter Number Four.

Last year, that was Phil Hughes. He went 4 and 14.

Let's not even discuss Number Five. That's Syd Finch Territory.

The A-rod Conversation

I was in Miami when A-Rod made his latest decision ( to drop his lawsuits );

A friend of mine is a mid-level attorney for A-Rod's team, and he and I happened upon each other in a bar where shots of Crown Royal Reserve ( better than Black ) were on special, during an extended happy hour.

My friend, whom I cannot name ( per Chris Chisty ), was in the room when A-Rod made his, now public, decision to take his penalty and just party-on for 2014.  Which he will do much of in Miami.

Here is how the conversation was related to me;

Counsel: " Good Morning A-Rod.  We didn't have you penciled-in on our calendars today."

A-Rod :  "  Well, thanks for making time for me anyway.  I have a few questions to ask regarding our planned lawsuits against MLB and Mr. Selig."

Counsel:  "  Fine, we'll be ready for you in about ten minutes.  How about some coffee?"."

Senior Partner ( whom I cannot mention ) addresses staff member on WIFI intercom ; " Ridley ( a legal intern from UCLA ), start the clock and assemble the team in the " Big Dog" conference room.

A few minutes pass, along with idle chatter about which AL pitcher gives A-Rod the hardest time, etc.

Counsel:  Okay Mr . Rodriguez; " fire away."

A-Rod : "Sirs and Madams;  I was just wondering what you think this entire enterprise ( suing MLB and Mr. Selig ) is likely to cost."

Counsel:  "As you know, Alex, it is difficult to predict the hours, the research costs, travel, food, fax costs, publicity and jury run-throughs that a suit like this might entail, and who knows what roadblocks the league may throw out there. But I can review our fee structure;

As senior partner, I receive $3000 per hour;  Our power counsel team ( three experienced litigators ) cost $2000 and hour, per person; junior staffers charge between $500-1000 per hour, and support
 staff ( such as Ridley here) are in the $250 per hour range."

A-Rod :  " I know that if we win the lawsuits, you take your fees and expenses out of the awards given to our side by the judge.  However, I am curious about who pays the on-going costs, and who pays, overall, if we lose?"

Counsel;  "  Well, A-Rod, as it is your decision to proceed with the suits, this costs would be billed, semi-monthly , to your accountant.  Or we can send invoices directly to you if you prefer. "

Side Scene:  A-Rod figures furiously on a yellow pad, multiplying numbers and hours, drawing arrows and decision trees.

A-Rod;  " Thank you all for meeting with me.  I have to get back to my boat.  I think I'll just take the suspension, allow the world to think ( erroneously ) that I did the juice, and drop the suits."

In other words, folks, A-Rod knew he would be pissing millions down the toilet if he kept up his dance.

He has a full year now to get back to 29 years old.

In opening ceremonies, Russians stage remarkable tribute to 2014 Yankee pitching rotation

With the final chapter far from written, A-Rod's critics proclaim that his story is over

Someday, Alex Rodriguez will inspire a great movie. I once thought Antonio Banderas could play the lead, but I now realize that by the time the film is finished, Banderas will probably be dust. So will we all. It'll take several generations for Hollywood - and baseball - to come to grips with the A-Rod story. Consider the slowly shifting sympathetic public opinion toward Shoeless Joe Jackson and the ruthlessness of Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis. Long after we are pixels, A-Rod's story will still be churning.

Yesterday, it moved an inch. He ended his lawsuit against Major League Baseball. That's a two-second scene in the movie. Maybe a newspaper will be whirling around and stop with the headline: "A-ROD DROPS SUIT." Of course, the movie will include A-Rod's memoir - as yet unwritten - and his 50 years of life after baseball. There is still the matter of 2015 and whether he plays for the Yankees. There is his inevitable bombastic marriage to some high-maintenance supermodel, his years as a drug kingpin in Miami, the alcoholism, his failed run for Florida governor, his conversation to Scientology, the triple homicide... Yep. A lot of football yet to play.

That's why it's so embarrassing for the profession of print journalism when a bucket of adjectives like Bill Madden climbs up from his bar stool to crank out a ridiculous victory ramble in today's Daily News. For the last 16 months, Madden has functioned as the de facto voice of unnamed Yankee ownership, railing against A-Rod in the hope that the team can escape paying the money the Steinboys personally pressed into Alex's pockets, and trying to do to A-Rod what Madden's idol, Dick Young, once did to Tom Seaver. Last summer, Madden boldly predicted that A-Rod would never see one pitch with the Yankees. Never! Not one! He's gone! Today, he writes:

Now, A-Rod goes for good. He knows that. The Yankees know that. MLB knows that. The only thing left is the contract buyout negotiation. There were reports Friday that A-Rod is eyeing a future in television, that he dropped his lawsuits out of fear he’d be blackballed in baseball. He should know he’s already blackballed himself with all the crap he dragged baseball and the Yankees through these last eight months.
One of the ugliest chapters in baseball history is finally over, and out of it, Rob Manfred — commissioner Bud Selig’s drug sheriff — emerges as the biggest winner.

OK, where do I start? For one thing, Manfred will be remembered for leading one of sports' sleaziest probes in history, with bags of cash being exchanged for dirt. That was going to be the basis of A-Rod's lawsuit. But the taint will remain. As for A-Rod being gone? Madden said that all last summer. I guess he's going to repeat it in columns until the day A-Rod leaves. Then he'll say he told us so.

Listen: It goes with being a Yankee fan that we must deal with out-of-control, ego-bloated paragraph bombers, columnists who are paid to scream in CAPS, of which Madden is an all-star. To be fair, he does his job quite well. He's not paid to be right. He's paid to push buttons. (And his keyboard must have a link that goes directly to my spine.) A-Rod is out, and the Madden victory column was always destined to be written. Now, like A-Rod's lawsuit, it's over. Until next winter.
There are so many chapters yet to play in the A-Rod movie. We still don't know how it ends. I can't wait for the scene when he fights Jose Canseco. Wait a minute. I wonder if Danny Devito will still be alive? He could play The Columnist.

Yankee Time Machine 4

I think tracking the flight of a home run ball was more enjoyable in that Stadium.

Deep thought

If the Yankees had a Russian player, Sochi would be a great nickname.

Yankee Time Machine 3

This broadcast is like archaeologists finding 800,000 year old footprints on a beach just before high tide.  There's so much to take in.

Yankee Time Machine 2

I'm Bill White.

Yankee Time Machine

I'm going to focus my Yankee attention on the past for the time being.

Leno's gone, but for $2, you can see the all-time greatest ending to a late-night dynasty: The Larry Sanders Show

Hey now!

A few months ago, I started watching The Larry Sanders Show, one of the most brilliant send-ups of American TV culture in history. If you missed Gary Shandling's fake show, or you just slept through the 1990s, it's worth checking.

Last night, I wiped tears watching Jay Leno. But if you want to see what a late night show finale should be, this is it. On Larry's "goodbye show," the star guest is Jim Carrey, and I guarantee you, his performance - even if you hate Jim Carrey - is worth $1.99.

I Want To See His Teeth !

Okay, I'm back.

Kicked by a wild horse in a rodeo while recruiting rancheros and cabbelleros ( who can spell in a language they don't speak?) for my South Mexican dirt field league team, I suffered a temporary setback.  Broken this and that.  Fractures here and there.

It was also necessary that I disappear in the hills for a while, due to some ( rumored ) illegal trafficking of something or other at the rodeo, of which I had no part. That is my official position , and I am sticking to it.

Prediction number one:  My team in the South Mexican dirt field league this season is:

A.  Younger than the Yankees ( although there are numerous, former major leaguers on the roster just as there are this season in the Bronx).

B.  Would beat the Yankees in any playoff wild-card game ( which the Yankees won't be in ).

Prediction number two:  Pineda will not pitch at Yankee stadium this year.

Prediction number three:   He will be just as useless in relief as he was as a starter.  Logically, that means he won't be coming north, either.

Now to the the main point.  The one about dentistry.

When I first saw Kei Igawa, he looked like an under-fed horse who's lips had been injured in a fight with a barbed wire fence.  I knew immediately, that his face ( the portion below his nose, most
 notably) was so embarrassing to him, that he would not be able to pitch in front of ;

A.  People
B.  TV cameras
C.  Microphones
D.  Chris Christy

Other than the money pissed away annually on our " farm " system (" farm" in the general sense of drought-infected fields, and scrawny, infected bovines ), the investment in Kei Igawa was Cashman's greatest public disgrace.  A panic move ( pants were soiled ) in response to Boston's signing of Dice K.

THE BRILLIANT Cashman made Igawa the King of our farm system after appearance one, and we never saw him again.  I always maintained that if the Yankees had taken him to a good orthodontist, he would have a shot.  They didn't so he didn't.

Which brings me to the point;  This new guy from Japan.  This orca ball specialist who never loses;

Show me his friggen teeth.  If he looks good in front of a camera, we can at least have hope for a week or two.  If he ( his teeth ) reminds anyone of Kei Igawa's pearlies, take him to Scranton now.

You always look at a horses' teeth before you buy, right?

By inducting Roger Clemens into their Hall of Fame, are the Red Sox thumbing their noses at Bud Selig?

Yesterday, the New England Redsocks announced the three newest members of their storied Hall of Fame, the warmest, innermost circle in their legendary Boston Creme Pyre. The lucky trio are Nomar Garciappara, Pedro Martinez and Roger Clemens. Congrats to all!

By inducting Clemens, Boston seems to be bucking the Selig Iron Rule of Baseball Morality: That no player accused of using performance enhancing drugs shall be recognized for past achievements. According to the National Sportswriters Sacred Code of Hypocrisy, Roger shall be closed out of Cooperstown, along with Barry Bonds, Alex Rodriguez, Rafael Palmeiro, Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire. No decision has been made on Jason Giambi, David Ortiz, Manny Ramirez, Bartolo Colon, et al -  and the avalanche of names still awaiting public disclosure, when a few years from now a bunch of destitute, or conscience-weary, or attention-starved players start writing their tell-all books.  (See CANSECO, Jose.)

I hate to say this, I really really really really do:

Bravo, Boston.

Wait a minute. I know there are Redsock fans out there who:
a) Will hate the idea of Clemens being honored.
b) Will claim he was surely clean when he pitched for Boston.
c) Will say this designation means nothing, there is no meaning here.

Fine. OK. No problemo. However, I prefer to think Boston, by recognizing Clemens' work is being:
a) Magnanimous. After they've now won three championships in a decade.
b) Smart, because they know if they start applying morality to all their stars, in a few years, they won't have anybody to induct into their Hall of Fame (See ORTIZ, David).
c) Realistic about human nature and the minds of professional athletes.

Listen: Baseball cannot continually scrutinize and tear apart its aging stars in their declining (and, maybe not coincidentally, their highest paid) years. It's a crappy model. It's also 1948 Russia. When does it stop? Not long ago, there were allegations that Mickey Mantle was juicing back in 1961. Should MLB investigate? And if it's found true, should The Mick's legacy be stricken from the books?

Of course not! Dear God, that would be insane! (And stupid.) And what happens when the yet unknown truth comes out in their tell-all books? Will baseball pull down their plaques and strike them from the books, like OJ Simpson's Heisman Trophy at USC, or Joe Paterno's statue at Penn State? No.

What's done is done.

For better or worse, we cannot take back Barry Bonds' home run records. (And he probably hit some off pitchers who were juicing.) Yes, it's a bad chapter in history. But PEDs are also an ongoing chapter that will never end. At least Boston is willing to turn the page and move on. Roger Clemens was a great player. Give him a plaque, give him a drink, give him a round of applause. Was he a cheater? Probably. Was he a warrior? Damn straight. Does he deserve to be shunned and shamed for the rest of his life, whenever he steps out in public?

I hereby salute the Boston Redsocks Hall of Fame. Let's hear  it for these great members.

Roger Clemens (new)

Wade Boggs (2004)

Red Ruffing (1995)

Luis Tiant (1997)

George Herman "Babe" Ruth (1995)

Don Zimmer (2010)

You go, Socks!

The conversation in heaven between Ralph Kiner and Phil Rizzuto

"Hello, everybody! Hey, it's great to here.  I'm uh... uh..."
.
"Kiner! Ralph Kiner! Holy cow, you huckleberry, I heard you were coming."
.
"Yes, and welcome to Korner's Kiner... wait? You're not Choo Choo Coleman. Where's Choo Choo?"
 .
"Hold on, Kiner. Somebody just said over the loudspeaker that my car is running out in the parking lot, and the key is locked inside."
.
"That's the kind of thing, if Lindsey Nelson were still alive, he'd be spinning in his grave."
.
"I tell ya, it's like being in Rochester. You know, Kiner, I'm going up there next week for a tournament."
.
"I think I was there last January 32nd and 33rd."
.
"A lot of guys whose last names end in vowels, Kiner, up there in Rochester..."
.
"There's a lot of heredity in those families."

"Wait a minute. I gotta get this in. Happy birthday to T-Bone in Morristown. White here is giving me a funny look. That's what the card says,  'T-Bone in Morristown.'"

"So this is heaven, eh, Phil? Yesterday, I felt like I'd lost 10 games in a row, without winning a ballgame. Today, I feel great."
.
"And it's gonna to get better. Pitchers and catchers arrive in 10 days. Have you seen this young kid the Yankees have? Alvaro Espinosa!"

"You know, I'm thinking Wally Whitehurst is ripe for a big year."

"Hold on, Kiner. Somebody just dropped off some canolis in the booth. Hol-eeee cow, you should see Murcer tearing into them."

"Up here, do we pay for anything, Scooter?"

"Everything's free, Kiner. It's like being in The Money Store!"

Open letter to Mr. Curt Schilling: You are NOT going to get away that easily

Dear Madam or Sir,

I know EXACTLY what you're trying to do. And don't even think about it.

This business you announced yesterday - something about cancer, something about taking time off, something about dealing with things that are important in life, blah blah blah... OHHHHHHH NO, YOU DON'T.

Nope. Don't you dare try to walk away. Don't you dare get sick on us. 

As far as you and us are concerned, this aint over. We Yankee fans consider you the Bogeyman, and - as everybody knows, the Bogeyman cannot die. Batman needs the Joker. Thor needs Loki. Flash needs, uhm, the Reverse Flash. You're our Reverse Flash.

So don't you think you can get sick and suddenly slip out the back door, and leave us hanging on a plot arc. Oh, no. We have plans for you. You're supposed to live for at least 30 years, and in the end, everybody else will be gone, and it'll just be you and us, fighting bare-handed, like Nicolas Cage and John Travolta in "Face/Off," with nobody even certain of who is the good guy, and we're driving two super speedboats, which crash into the pier, hit a ramp and go hurtling into the air, and we actually splat into each other, like globs of goo, and then we get up and fight to the bloody death. That's how it is meant to be. YOU DO NOT GET TO HAVE CANCER. YOU DO NOT GET RID OF US THAT EASILY. THIS CANCER BUSINESS, IT'S GOT TO END.

We have a date for a final confrontation. But not now. Not even soon. I'm thinking more like the year 2040. I'm thinking wheelchairs. I'm thinking we're shooting each other with forks full of creamed corn. The wheelchairs crash into a receptionist area, and we go hurtling into the air, slamming into each other and swinging our walkers, and then, lying on the floor of the nursing home, we beat each other to death with our dentures. Something like that. 

Don't you DARE think about leaving. No sir. That can't happen. Take your pills. Do your protocols. Hug your family. And come back to us. So we can finish this.

Derek Jeter has ditched another girlfriend because he's tired of cheating on his wife, the New York Yankees

This we know: Long ago, Derek Jeter married the Yankees.

He took his formal vows with the logo, the Steinbrenners, the uniform and the fans. We all exchanged rings, several of them. We went through good and bad times, moved into a big new house, and Jete proved to be a great provider.

Yes, now and then, he strayed. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. There was Mariah Carey. There was Jessica Alba.  There was Adrianna Lima. There were a few ex-beauty queens, another Jessica (Biel), who later snagged Justin Timberlake, and there was Minka. (You can even tabulate his stats per woman.) There were rumors he was going to drop us for Minka. But he didn't.

I remember when Jete hosted Saturday Night Live, and the musical guest was Shakira, and every Yankee fan in captivity wondered what would happen to his bat if she got her hips around it. But she didn't. Jete was faithful. A man can service only one wife. And Jete had his: the Yankees.

Well, now Jete is pushing 40, and he's still hanging with ladies who could be his daughter, and - at least in press accounts - he's dropping them the way Gary Sheffield dropped throws to first base. The latest news is that he has dropped Hannah Davis, his latest supermodel fling, because - well - maybe she got too old and dumpy.

That old dog, he just keeps coming home to us. He's still playing shortstop. He's still playing the field. But the marriage remains intact. Jete is a one-woman man again. And his wife wears cleats.

A book from our friends at Bronx Goblin

Somehow, I think the Yankees might have a passage or two in this book. From the Yankee site Bronx Goblin comes...

Ever eat? work? Shop? Use a public bathroom? or Drive anywhere? Did you ever encounter someone and say to yourself.. "What an Idiot!" Did you say yes? Did you expect a response from me? If so, I apologize. This is a book and I can't respond to you, but I 'hear ya.' "Idiots Are Everywhere" is divided into 10 sections, each filled with comical analysis and invented interviews designed at capturing the mindset of everyday people as they go about their lives and are forced to interact with others. You may never look at a normal situation again after reading this book.

Buy it.

Yanks looking forward to spring training!

We won't get fooled again? (Or will we?) For posterity, here's a gem from last year's spin: "Pineda making strides at Yanks' training complex"

Considering the crapola we were fed last year, I think it's important that Yankee fans enter 2014 with a healthy skepticism about the future of this team.

Over the next few weeks, as a new bumper crop of B.S. arrives in Tampa, let us remember what the experts and insiders told us 12 months ago.  Here is a blast from the past... from Jan. 28, 2013:

NEW YORK -- Yankees right-hander Michael Pineda is set to reach a major checkpoint in his recovery from right shoulder surgery, graduating to tossing from a half mound on Tuesday at the club's complex in Tampa, Fla.

The 24-year-old Pineda missed all of the 2012 season due to injury after being acquired from the Mariners in January.

Yankees general manager Brian Cashman said that the organization is hopeful that the right-hander will be an option at the big league level by June or July.

Pineda underwent arthroscopic surgery in May to repair an anterior labral tear of his pitching shoulder after experiencing weakness, and later pain, during his Spring Training appearances.

Pineda has yet to throw a pitch for the New York Yankees. The only redeeming part of his acquisition is that the main player we traded to get him, Jesus Montero, has been a total bust. Of course, that's the same Montero whom the Yankees were hyping for four years, as the best prospect in our system. 

ESPN is devoting a three-part series to the Dust Bowl that is the Yankee farm system, but will anything really change?

The first installment of ESPN's Trilogy of Tears on the Yankee farm system ran yesterday. It basically rewrites what River Ave, Lohud, and every prospect-rating clipboard in captivity has been saying for a year: We are soooo screwed.

One scoop: The story suggests the Yankees are ready to pull the plug on Manny Banuelos as a starter and send him to the bullpen, if he pitches well this spring. (Yes, Virginia, there IS another Joba Chamberlain! You never have enough Jobas, am I right?) And the story quotes Brian Cashman liberally. In discussing the Yankee system, the GM sounds amazingly like Barack Obama announcing the roll-out website for Affordable Health Care.

"It's not as good as we need it to be in terms of results," Yankees GM Brian Cashman said when asked if it was fair to characterize his farm system as a bust. "There are a number of reasons behind that. At the end of the day, we've had some misses, without a doubt. We've had some guys who didn't make their projections, who failed to cross the finish line. So basically it's fair to criticize where we're currently sitting."

From then on, the story goes into familiar territory - a recap of every disastrous first round pick from Andrew Brackman to the pitcher two years ago who needed double A-Rod hip surgery after about five starts. It picks on Cito Culver - (I am officially a Cito supporter, FWIW)  - and says flatly that he will never hit. (HE WILL, DAMMIT!) But today, I suspect as part of the deal in getting Cashman on the record, ESPN publishes Part II, which is strangely titled: "How the Yankees are planning world domination in 2014."

Huh?

Listen: I can't critique a piece I haven't read. But the title sounds suspiciously like a healing, puffy, Hallmark Movie of the Week story, designed to assure everybody that - "Yes, although Mr. Madoff had some questionable past dealings, he's aware of the problems and promises your pension funds are safe and secure!"

I don't know how the Yankees are planning world domination in 2014. But I thought they were also planning it in 2010, 2011, 2012, and 2013. I must have been wrong. They weren't. Apparently, somebody said, "Hal, Hank, Cash, I got an idea: World domination!" Maybe they are changing their ways, although $500 million in free agent long term contracts does not suggest too much movement in a new direction.

Disclaimer: Of course the Yankee brass knows more about baseball than I do. And nearly all bloggers, for that matter. Yes, yes, of course, I accept this. But there are many baseball minds out there in the game - young and hungry assistant executives, who have either built teams in places like St. Louis and Texas, or are building them in other cities. The Yankees have not only failed to scout 17 year olds. They've failed to look for management.

It amazes me how the Yankees have no problems bringing in three OF (Soriano, Beltran, Ellsbury) - in essence, making Brett Gardner a fifth wheel. But when it comes to replacing anybody in the front office, they're all untouchable - like Jeter and Mo? Amazing.

This winter, nobody in the Yankee brain trust lost his job, except for a relatively low-level strength coach. (God knows the inside story behind that one.) So now, we're told that Cashman has identified the problem: Lack of success in the farm system! Great. Just great. Why do we, as Yankee fans, sit in wonderment, year after year, over the differences between the Redsocks and Yankee systems? This isn't something that cropped up last fall. It's gone on for a decade. If the problems in Obama's heath care roll out continued for 10 years, do you think the Democrats would still be in power?

In part I, ESPN does a fine job. In part II, I'm sure they do diligence. But I wonder if they traded their knife edge for a few rinky-dink Cashman quotes. I hope not. Because it's time for the Yankiverse to start publicly and angrily questioning the future of this franchise. I don't know how a franchise revolution happens. I don't even know if such a thing can happen with a baseball team. But this lineup is so old, so brittle, and so unbalanced that even after $500 million, it's still just a hamstring away from a complete 2014 meltdown.

Yes, folks, we are perilously close to disaster.

And if that happens, Yankee fans are going to have to take to the streets. We will need to boo, to belch and to boycott the team that has owned our lifelong passions. Things must change from the top to the bottom. Otherwise, next winter, we'll be reading another trilogy of tears.

We won't get fooled again. (Or will we?) Let's enjoy some of last year's frozen Yankee spin

Recently, Joba Chamberlain showed up in Detroit wearing a beard, glasses and telling everybody how great he feels. In other words, he's up to his old tricks.

Well, that's fine. He's Detroit's Joba now. But the B.S. train is pulling into Tampa soon, and this year, Yankee fans ought to think long and hard about the dollops of hope the big YES machine gins up. There are big reasons to feel skeptical about the future of this team. And the best way to consider them is simply to be remembering what the experts said last year.

HEALTHY JOBA EYEING BOUNCE-BACK SEASON 

NEW YORK -- In accepting a couple of humanitarian awards Tuesday night at the Baseball Assistance Team's 24th annual Go to Bat for B.A.T. fundraising dinner at the Marriott Marquis, Yankees pitcher Joba Chamberlain mentioned "what an honor it is for me to be able to wear this uniform."

Now, as free agency looms next offseason, he has every intention of a big year on the Yankees' staff. He said he is "100 percent healthy" and raring to go next month in Florida for Spring Training. When he gets there, he said, he plans to "hug it out" with newcomer and former Red Sox arch rival Kevin Youkilis in that same uniform.

"I think we're going to be great," Chamberlain told the crowd. "Obviously everyone talks about moves other teams have made. We haven't made many moves, but I'm still gonna take our lineup and what we're putting out there every day. We've got our pitching staff where we want it to be. And guys we've got thrown in. We've had an addition -- I think you guys know who he is. His name's Kevin Youkilis."

"Your buddy, right?" emcee Michael Kay said.

"It's going to be a good addition for us," Chamberlain replied.

"Did you call him?" Kay said.

"I did call him, actually. I left a message, just to welcome him to our side," Chamberlain said. "To tell him that I'm glad he's on our side for once, and to be able to win it on our side. I know it was the holidays and it was busy and stuff, so I'll see him at Spring Training, we'll hug it out and we'll go forward."

Kyle Farnsworth is returning to NYC as a Met

He's 37. He was our first Yankeeography.

Ex-Christie aide invokes the Daily News Fifth

New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie's former deputy chief of staff, Bridget Anne Kelly, yesterday invoked the Daily News Fifth Amendment, by refusing to discuss the George Washington Bridge scandal, but elaborating extensively on the Yankees need for a bullpen bridge to David Robertson.

Kelly is a central figure in the controversy, having last year e-mailed a top Yankee and New Jersey official, saying, "Time for some Joba problems in the bullpen," to which manger Joe Girardi replied, "Got it."

Instead of testifying before the grand jury investigating Christie, Kelly will appear with Yankee voice John Sterling to discuss up-and-coming prospects, who - with a little luck - might appear in Trenton during 2014.

Jeter says he's right on target. Only trouble is, we heard this all a year ago

Feb. 24, 2013:  TAMPA, Fla. -- Yankees captain Derek Jeter is expected to play in his first Spring Training game around March 10, according to general manager Brian Cashman.
         "He's kind of doing everything, but we're not ready to run him out there for game activity," Cashman said. "When we do, I think we'll start him at DH and then expand."
        Jeter ran on the infield dirt on Saturday, his first time doing so since suffering a left ankle fracture in last season's American League Championship Series. The 38-year-old has consistently said that he expects to be ready for Opening Day in New York on April 1.
       "I was a couple of weeks behind what everyone else was doing when I first got here, so on that schedule I don't see any reason why not," Jeter said. "I don't think anything's set in stone, but it seems like it's attainable."

Not much more to say, eh?

Nineteen years ago, the Yankees married Derek Jeter. We were the fat billionaire with a big mansion and a handful of rings, and she was the hot 20-year-old Olympic supermodel at the height of her physical prowess. God, the sex was incredible. Nine innings, every night. We're lucky to still be alive.

Now, we're a liver-spotted 90-year-old, bathing daily in AndroGel and chewing Viagra tabs like Chicklets, and she's a busty, fleshy "thirty-nine," a bit wide at the ankles, but still exotic, in a drunken Jessica-Walter sort of way. All these years, both sides were faithful to each other. The marriage is still strong. There is no talk of a divorce or even separation. We renewed our vows last November. But it's been a while since we spent a night together...

Yesterday, the wife took fielding and hitting practice, and later pronounced herself fit to go, four months ahead of schedule, ready to jump back into the sack. In the past, we viewed such a vow like an IOU written by Ben Bernanke. But now, well, there were those letters from her Florida trip last February. For the first and only time in our marriage, we caught her hiding something from us.



Feb. 18, 2013:  TAMPA, Fla. -- (Derek) Jeter was back in the swing on Monday as the Yankees held their first full-squad workout of the spring. The captain showed off his cuts and went through defensive drills at shortstop, showing no grimaces or limping on his surgically repaired left ankle.
      "I felt fine. I felt good," Jeter said. "[It was the] first time I was doing everything on the field in terms of hitting on the field and ground balls on the dirt. Everything went good."

Feb. 11, 2013:  TAMPA, Fla. -- Yankees shortstop Derek Jeter ran on a treadmill on Monday for the first time since having left ankle surgery in October and said that it felt "great."
     Jeter also took about 75 to 80 ground balls at his shortstop position during a morning workout at the Yankees' Minor League facility, with minimal lateral movement and no throws across the diamond.
      "I'm just progressing, like I've told you," Jeter said. "I'm right where I need to be. I've gotten the OK to do everything now."

Listen: We are now an old and frail couple, walking the beach, hand in hand. Youngsters run past us, as the years did. We don't talk about age any more. Nor do we talk about the fact that we never had a kid to take over the biz. That's all it's too late. It's still her and us. And we still have our dignity. We still have our name.

So close your eyes, and forget what happened last winter. Close your eyes, and she's still the blushing bride from 1996. And when she says she can still dance, well, we have no choice but to order the champagne, tell the driver to wheel the limousine into place, and head out on the town. If you're going down, better on a dance floor than a respirator.

The Master's Kitten Bowl call: “Get ready for a total cat fight … they play to lick the competition”

The critics are raving over John Sterling's Super Bowl-eclipsing performance in the first Kitten Bowl.


"Host Beth Stern, wife of Howard, and commentary by NY Yankees commentator John Sterling and former NFL cheerleader Renee Herlocker. Commentary varied from pun-fun (“Get ready for a total cat fight … they play to lick the competition”) to the bizarrely reaching (“The game ain’t over until the last whisker has fallen”). — WINNER"

Sez another writer on the Internet:

The locker room videos and mid-game “interviews” were a nice touch, making it easy for people like me — who know nothing about football, and even less about cats — to understand what was happening. Beth Stern also did a wonderful job of hosting the inaugural bowl, and Jon Sterling‘s emceeing was second to none.
 

Forget pitching, pitching, pitching. The 2014 Yankees will hinge on Texieira, Teixeira, Teixeira.

Soon, the spend-crazy 2014 Yankees will glimpse two alternative universes. In one, Mark Teixeira returns to old form, which means great defense, 30 HR and 100 RBIs. The other is where he becomes Evil Spock... yes, Tex Overbay.

(A media time out here. I do not wish to bash the name of Mr. Lyle Overbay. Of the Yankee scrap heapers last year, he was the most dependable, personable and the best clutch hitter. With the tying run at second, I'd take him in a heartbeat over A-Rod or the Grandy Man. He gave the Yankees all he had. It just wasn't enough.)

If the Good Spock returns, the 2014 SS Yankeeprize order looks like this: Ellsbury, Jeter, Beltran, Soriano, Teixeira, McCann, Roberts, Johnson, Gardner. That team can win 85 games and compete for the One-Game Playoff Selig Cup.

But if Tex's bum wrist doesn't heal - and history shows mixed results - the gold-plated lineup looks more like 81 wins. No Selig Cup. No nuthin. And with a couple injuries, a sub-.500 season - known to Yankee fans as Armageddon - becomes easily imaginable.

Right now, there remains talk around the Yankiverse about signing Fernando Rodney or Ubaldo Jimenez. The Yankees are playing cheapo, and - frankly - I don't blame them. Because we still don't know which Teixeira universe awaits us. If Good Spock returns, we can scrounge and wheedle for spare parts. But if Spock wears a beard - neither Fernando Rodney nor the team's ban on facial hair can save us.

Every spring, the upcoming season seems to hinge on one player. Last year, I stupidly thought it was Austin Romine. I was a fool. But who among us imagined losing Jeter, Granderson and Tex? This year, we all do. In fact, we see injuries everywhere we look.

 The whole post-season has been a blitz of crossroads - all of them out of our hands. We had the Robbie Cano decision. Then came the A-Rod ruling. Then Tanaka decided where he wanted to play. Meanwhile, Hal Steinbrenner spent a boatload of money on this team - and scrapped the austerity plan that subverted last year's team. And he sold the YES Network to Fox.

I think all those signing stemmed from that deal with Fox. The Yankees have money to burn, and Fox Network demands that they field a solid team. But there is no such thing. We are merely approaching the next fork in the road. And make no doubt about it: Everything, everything, EVERYTHING, rides on those thin wrist tendons of Mark Teixeira. Beam them up, Scotty. We gotta know which Spock is coming.

After the Super Bowl, why do I always feel like I need a shower?

Well, the hapless Broncos and Peyton Manning did something nobody else could do all year: They made the Giants - (and Eli "the Wrong" Manning) - look decent. Good grief, the Gints only lost to Seattle by 23.

But why does watching the Super Bowl always feel as if I just survived two weeks of brain-washing techniques at Gitmo? How many times can a dehumanizing, violence-addicted corporation express its eternal love for America, in between promos for "The Following," in which a serial killer exerts mind control on masses of otherwise decent people? How many times are we supposed to ingest this crapola before we run out and try to kill Kevin Bacon?

When every two minutes brings another heartfelt pang of patriotic joy, does patriotic joy really exist at all? I'm sorry, because after the Super Bowl mind blitz, just to suggest that the NFL is a money-making machine, which grinds employees into simple-minded gimps, so billionaires can fondle trophies, is to speak blaspheme about God and America, which we should know by now are linked together by the NFL.

I can't take it anymore. I wish instead of running puppy bowls and kitten bowls, and alternative half-times, some network with a little courage ran a flat-out anti-NFL pre-game show, sort of the way the Daily Show looks at politics, or Talk Soup did at reality shows, and studies the pure crap being troweled out by these suited Alfred E. Newmans with microphones. The GOP gets to rebut the State of the Union. Shouldn't the rest of America - that is, people who don't buy the NFL propaganda blitz - have a place to vent?

I cannot blame anybody else for my decision to plop down and watch the Super Bowl. Nobody forced me. But there is an element of "cultural jury duty:" You want to be like everyone else - that is, to have that transmitter planted into your brain, so you'll lean forward when Howie Long takes off his glasses, knowing he's about to make an important point.  I turned on the TV all by myself. Michael Strahan - co-host of Kelly and Michael - did not force me. I ate that intellectual equivalent of a two Wendy's Big Bacon Burgers. As a result, I am preparing to roam the country with two thoughts looping in my head today: Football, GOOD... Must KILL Kevin Bacon.

Chelsea Manning

Last year, the Yankee farm system ranked Number 10. So what did it mean?

The prospect ratings are in, and the Yankees are generally ranked in the bottom third of farm systems. But what about last year?

Scientific pie chart showing Chris Christie's plans for Super Sunday

The Broncos are the GOP's team

Assign to this whatever weight you wish.

As Yankee YES/FOX fans, let's just say it's hard for us to pass judgment.

That said, as Yankee fans, we ALWAYS pass judgment. 

Tips on maintaining security at your Super Bowl party

It's the holiest night of the year, which means it's a sure time for terrorists to try and strike your home Super Bowl party. How can you stop them? Take a page from the National Football League.

1. No strangers allowed. That fellow who claims to be your sister's boyfriend's cousin? How well do you know him? Did he bring a driver's license? Best bet: Do not let anybody inside who has not passed a background check. Play it loose, and you when you put a chip in the dip, you might just find... a bomb!

2. Plainclothes undercover police as "party goers." They should be armed and skilled in the art of reading people's minds, as airport security officials are. Introduce them as cousins or co-workers. Let them move from conversation to conversation, listening carefully for code words. If someone suddenly attacks the TV with a bomb, only instant police muscle can save the day.

3. A show of physical presence at the door. Two or three hulking brutes, preferably with shaven heads and Kevlar vests, should do the trick. This will deter groups of terrorist who might attack your party "Benghazi style."

4. Hidden cameras. Set up the operations booth in the attic or the cellar. Every square inch of your house must be covered by surveillance. Yes, this includes the bathroom. If the ladies squawk, good grief, can't they understand that this isn't about seeing somebody's boobies, this is about saving lives!

5. Metal detectors. This is so obvious that it almost seems a joke. Nevertheless, in this day and age, there are still Super Bowl parties without metal detectors. It's a wonder anyone survives.

6. Drug-sniffing dogs. They're friendly to us, but terrorists fear them. Have one in every room, and don't be afraid to let old King growl at anybody who looks out of line. Keep some extra kibble on hand, so he won't feel compelled to sample the wings. But - no dogs on the couch! That's for guests!

7. Sniper behind the TV. If everybody is watching the game, the best vantage point to notice wandering evil eyes is directly behind the screen. Put your best crack shot above the TV, perhaps behind some potted plants, and he should be able to "put down" any terrorist before he - or she - can reach for the suicide vest. (Also, see 10)

8.  Turn off the TV. The last thing you want is everybody crowded into one room, huddled in front of an electronic device. It's an open invitation for terror. If everyone is bunched together, you better believe somebody is going to want to throw a bomb into the crowd. Best best: No TV whatsoever, no game. That way, people will stay properly dispersed throughout the house.

Nothing beats a terror-free Super Bowl party.  Coming this month, concrete barricades for your Oscar night bash!

Annual Super Predictions

From last year.

And don't forget our annual poem. 

PREDICTIONS

1. The team that wants it most will win.

2. Big plays will determine the outcome.

3. Turnovers will be the key.

4. Without a pass rush, the defense will get shredded.

5. To win, you must control the line of scrimmage.

6. Both teams must limit penalties.

7. It could come down to the field goal kickers.

8. Don't overlook the special teams.

9. To pass, you first need to establish the ground game.

10. Coke over Pepsi by two touchdowns.

The fact is, the salary dumping of AJ Burnett was the stupidist, cheapo move the Yankees made in the last decade, and it launched a period - we're not out of it yet - to be remembered for hubris, frustration, Kevin Youkilis, Vernon Wells, Chris Bootcheck and hitters marching back to the dugout with their bats over slumped shoulders - in the span of time that it took Boston to remake itself into a champion.

AJ Brunette

Before the Yankees signed AJ Burnett in 2009 - five years at $16.5 million - he was death to our lineup. Absolute death. Toronto had Roy Halliday and Burnett, and - frankly - I didn't know which I more feared. In four games, Burnett beat us three times, and usually pitched into the eighth. When we signed him, I knew we had a gamer. We all did. We'd seen firsthand what he could do.

OK, let's not rehash everything that happened in NYC. Whenever a sympathetic word about AJ Burnett is written, his critics converge like zombies on a fat lady. Yep, he had some bad starts.  Yep, there was that weird black eye that never got explained. And yep, he wasn't getting better. But Burnett pitched heroically in the 2009 World Series, and he was the guy who invented the walk-off pie-in-the-face, which galvanized the team. And his salary dump trade to Pittsburgh represented the first phase of the famous Hal Steinbrenner "$189 Million or Bust" austerity plan, which lasted for two years, two horrible years, to be long remembered as one of the great exercises in futility in modern Yankee history.

We traded Burnett for a bag of magic beans - Diego Moreno and Exicardo Cayones, if you're scoring at home. The Pirates received an ace. The Yankees, thinking they had a surplus of starters - all-star Michael Pineda had joined the team! - played cheapie. Burnett turned out to be the pitcher we desperately needed. And last year, when Joe Girardi was throwing out stems and seeds, the Pirates made the post-season - behind AJ Burnett.

OK, Burnett-bashers... thunder your indignation here: Play the favorite tune, that old song that never fails when a Yankee trade goes bad: He wouldna done it in the AL East! The fact is, Burnett's salary dump launched a period - we're not out of it yet - of nothingness. It's why we'll have Jacoby Ellsbury for seven years, Brian McCann for five, and no Robbie Cano. The post-AJ period will be remembered for hubris, frustration, Kevin Youkilis, Vernon Wells, Chris Bootcheck and hitters - my favorite is the Grandy Man - marching back to the dugout with bats over slumped shoulders - in the span of time that it took Boston to remake itself into a champion.

Well, now AJ Burnett is a free agent, and he says he wants to pitch one more season, and if not for the acid bath on the bridge behind us, he would be absolutely the one pitcher we should sign. He knows New York. He's a veteran. He won't cost a draft pick. He wants a one-year deal. Good grief, he's perfect.

But fughetabouttit. Ainta gonna happen.

Nope. If he doesn't sign with Pittsburgh, he might land in Toronto or Baltimore, and here is my prediction for 2014: He will be as tough on the Yankees this season as he was in 2008. But, hey, Burnett-bashers, this will give you a chance to dust off your old mantra one more time. Altogether now:

He wouldna done it in the AL East, he wouldna done it in the AL East, he wouldna etc. etc. blah-blah-blah. 

So we can cross our fingers that Masahiro Tanaka moves seamlessly into MLB. And that Manute Bol Sabathia's new whip body will return him to all-star form. And that we'll have the Ivan Nova of last September, not the Ivan Nova of last June. And yes - we can hope that Michael Pineda recovers from the worst injury a pitcher can have - a torn shoulder.

Nope, AJ wouldna done it in the AL East. Hey, who's got the walk-off pie?