Today is the saddest Yankee anniversary of all: Lou Gehrig's last game

An excellent read from Vahe Gregorian in yesterday's Kansas City Star.

It's widely believed that Gehrig played his last game on April 30, 1939, when his average had tumbled to .143 after he went hitless in his 2,130th straight start. In the Yankees' next game, two days later in Detroit, Gehrig benched himself "for the good of the team." He had taken his last at-bat in the major leagues. But he managed to play once more in Yankee pinstripes.

On June 12, 1939, 75 years ago this week, with two off-days scheduled after a series at the St. Louis Browns, the Yankees took the train west for an exhibition against the Kansas City Blues, their Class AA farm team.

Yep, 75 years ago to the day. Today. The saddest Yankee anniversary of all.

Weak and wracked with pain as Gehrig was, he was still the Yankees' captain, still traveling and delivering the lineup card to home plate before every game up to his scheduled appointment June 13 at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota.

Only a day before his arrival there for the momentous diagnosis, Gehrig somehow mustered the energy to play three innings in the field and take an at-bat because of the turnout of 23,864 at Municipal Stadium (then known as Ruppert Stadium).

With the likes of Joe DiMaggio playing center field for the Yankees and Phil Rizzuto playing shortstop for the Blues, Gehrig batted eighth and tapped a meek grounder to second base. Reflecting the ravages of the disease, it made for a mean, incongruous ending to an illustrious career.

He told a reporter something had to be wrong with him, there was no other reason why his body would have deteriorated so quickly. He was taking a train to Minnesota, rather than join his teammates in New York.

Six days later, he received the diagnosis. Within two years - June 2, 1941... "the luckiest man on the face of the earth," the pride of the Yankees, the Iron Horse... was dead.

If the Yankees fall out of contention, should this become our new blog theme?

We would strive to become THE golden age of butter consumption blog.

It is high, it is far, it is... NOT butter.

It Could Be Worse

Just for a second, imagine this team without Tanaka. No stopper. No ace. No pretty, scantily-clad, young Japanese cheerleaders. Oh, wait a minute...

The Yankees are barely keeping their noses above .500 -- almost day to day, they could be breathing through hollow reeds after they go under. Tanaka is 10-1 now, and the team has 33 wins. Actually, in the games he's started, we're 11-2. So a cool one-third of the win total came from the Professor's starts. (He's arguably the only starter we have that gives us a chance of winning with our fearsome two-run offense.)

What would our record look like if we hadn't spent the money to get this "third starter"? Let's be generous and say that instead of 10-1 our starters went 5-6 in those games. That would put us at 28-37, right behind Boston and 9 and a half out. He's only pitched once each against Toronto, Boston and Tampa, the only Eastern Division foes he's faced so far, but we walked out with a W in those games. So technically, it's possible we would be in a slightly worse position vis a vis Toronto and Boston. But let's not quibble.

If you want to figure out just how bad this team really is, take just this one guy out of the equation. He's the only thing keeping us in the stratosphere of mediocrity instead of where we would otherwise be.

In his last 10 starts, Phil Hughes is 7-1 with a 2.27 earned run average.

Phil Hughes stopped Toronto yesterday, as he did the Yankees last week. (No big deal; your Aunt Minnie could shut down the Yankees.) Hughes pitched seven shutout innings, fanned nine. His ERA now stands at 3.17. He's 7-2 with a bad team. He will probably pitch in the All-Star Game.

Can someone please remind me again on why he had to leave the Yankees?

Ah, yes! I forgot: The clunk couldn't pitch. He has is a mental cog running in reverse, a nick in the cut of his jib - he's a bum. It's his fault - not the Yankees. Those two great manipulators of souls - Joe Girardi and Larry Rothschild - spun their pep talk magic, did everything right, but this sour-headed malingerer couldn't get the message. Like Joba.

Just watch: Soon, the old Phil Hughes - the horrible, mediocre, real Phil Hughes - will return to earth, and the Yankees will be lucky to be done with him. Management will be exonerated. Except for the team strength coach. It might be time for Hal Steinbrenner to fire the team strength coach.

Remember the late 1980s and early 1990s - the 14-year barf? The cougar man, Mel Hall? The pre-Robbie jogger, Deion Sanders? The ladies man, Luis Polonia? The Yankees decided that Hal Morris couldn't play; he went to Cinncinati and became a star. The Yankees decided Al Leiter didn't quite have it; they converted him into Jesse Barfield. Jay Buhner? Doug Drabek? Willie McGee? Everybody? For most of 14 years, anybody who escaped the Yankee clubhouse - the Guantanamo Bay of baseball - was up for a comeback.

What does it say about an organization that manages to get the worst out of players, rather than the best?

Because that is what the Yankees are in danger of becoming.

Soon, we will trade a catcher - either Francisco Cervelli, Austin Romine, John Ryan Murphy or Gary Sanchez. Somebody will go, because we have too many backstops and not enough of everything else. Why do have the distinct feeling that whomever goes, he's going to blossom into a fine player - the kind of player he never would have been with the Yankees? I can't help but especially think of Romine - who showed signs of life late last year, but who has simply been buried by the team, with no hope of ever getting a shot. We'll get next to nothing for him, and then he will do well. Another Mark Melancon.

The saddest part of the Phil Hughes story is that we didn't trade him last summer. He could have enjoyed his resurgence last August, and over the winter, he would have made a lot more money. Of course, we wouldn't have gotten much for him in a trade. As it turned out, we didn't even receive a draft pick.

And whatever it was we were doing with Phil Hughes, Minnesota apparently tried something different. But no - just keep repeating it: The fault was Phil Hughes', not ours.

Unless you're the strength coach.

Rock beats palm?

A clash of cultures or just differing styles?

End of the line for Jose?

I figured this guy was history five years ago, when the Yankees dumped him. I never believed he was in his 20s. He looked more like 40, and he sweated like 55. I couldn't bear to watch.

Well... when the Cubs waive you, you're waived. And when your ERA is past 8.00, wave goodbye. Maybe it's really over. If so, kudos to Jose Veras for lasting this long.

Jeez, after we threw him overboard, he pitched for Cleveland, Florida, Pittsburgh, Milwaukee, Houston, Detroit and finally the Cubs. He had the last laugh, eh?

We Are Due To Score One Run Tonight

I, too, went to bed with the Yanks in the lead by 2-1.

It was the inning that ended with the Mariners having runners on 2nd and 3rd, with two out, and Ellsbury making a brilliant, game-saving catch in deep centerfield.  Nuno was extremely grateful, and lucky.

I hear this morning that we added a run somehow.

So it stands to reason that we only get one run tonight.

 Do the math;  3+1 =4 which, divided by two games, equals 2 runs, our standard offensive output.

Therefore, we either win tonight, 1-0 or lose.

Simple.

Bet the farm.

For $200 million, the Yankees are a top-down, .500 organization

On the far side of the planet, the never-scoring, "Bronx-is-Boring" '14 Yankees won last night - or I should say, this morning. If you stayed up to watch - congrats! you're a better fan than me. Or you have a sleep disorder.

Let the record show that our offense exploded for three (3!) runs, and our outfielders ran down Vidal Nuno gopher balls the way Lindsay Lohan's convertible runs down jaywalkers.

I read about it. I wasn't awake, leading any juju intervention. Maybe next week, when the Yanks return to civilization. Or maybe in July. Or later. A new rule: Always save the last juju bullet for yourself.

Today, I woke up wondering if the Yanks have any one team in their system that is cracking heads - you know, dominating. I recognize that wins and losses matter as much to the Yankees as Gwyneth Paltrow's theories about water having emotions - comparative to developing Cito Culver into a serviceable first-round pick. (He's up to .240!) But under Old George, our farm teams were encouraged to win - you know, the Yankee tradition, blah-blah-blah - and at least one club always challenging for a pennant, or a governor's cup, or something.

Well, here are the numbers. They show the New York Mehs.

Yankees: 32-31.

Scranton: 32-32.

Trenton: 33-32.

Tampa: 31-34.

Charleston: 30-35

Our source of pride: Our two Dominican Summer League Yankees teams are 8-1 and 6-3. Yep, we are the Manchester United of the DSL. (Though we actually have 20-year-olds playing, which is ridiculous, considering the sub-rookie level of the league. Are we dumb all the way down to the atomic level?)

Across the board, we are average, distinguished only by the amount of money being spent - three times that of small market teams.

I believe the Steinbrenner boys are channeling their dad. Old George won in the late-70s, then personally orchestrated a 14-year barf - until Buck Showalter, Gene Michael and Bob Watson restructured the organization.

Hal and Hank won in 2009. Ever since, we have swirled down the drain, each season worse than the previous year. I doubt this malaise will last 14 years, or that Brian Cashman will survive it. Somewhere out there, right now, an old baseball geezer and a computer dweeb are waiting, and someday, they will rebuild the Yankees. (Of course, there is one difference between now and the 1990s: We can chase the one-game Wild Card illusion - the savior of mediocrity.) 

Meanwhile, the Yankees are barely worth watching in prime time, wherever you live - Scranton, Trenton, and anywhere but those dandelion fields in Dominica. We are mediocre, except for the cars we drive, when hitting jaywalkers.

Dear Mark Teixeira: You are officially invited to write for this blog

His credentials? Right here.

But how about a segment with The Master, John Sterling?

The skill of acting

Master thespian Lou Gehrig shows perfect form,

as he breaks up a bar brawl by throwing billiard balls,

in a scene from "Rawhide." 

The art of acting

Thespian Lou Gehrig, releasing his inner DeCaprio,

emotes raw and unbridled satisfaction, 

in a dramatic scene from "Rawhide"

It May Not Be That Simple

The headline was something about the, " international JU-JU intervention has been ( was) rained out."

This may not be quite the same as the ballgame was rained out.  And we play again tomorrow.

Resources were marshaled in different time zones.  Some planned activities could not simply be put back in a box, and placed back on the shelf for future use.  They had to be trashed.  Discarded.

When certain substances are unwrapped, and exposed to the air, they begin to deteriorate.  You can put the wrap back on, but that first whiff of air never can be rescinded, and the product deterioration time-clock starts.

So beware.  The cancellation, which had to be done, may have consequences.

 Good or Bad.  This is like a surgical procedure with which the doctor has no experience.

There is no history here.  This has never before occurred. IIHIIFIIc has no track record with respect to future outcomes off of a JU-Ju Intervention cancellation, particularly at the international level ( defcom 5 ),  and no statistics to quote.  Nothing, really, to comfort us.  To tell us, " everything will be all right."

The trip to the west coast may find us limping back, with more injuries, several games under the .500 mark.  We may be facing the reality that an intervention of any kind will be ineffective.

I'm just saying.  We don't know.

Do the Pope know?

The Yankiverse is exploding with the human cry for change

Within the Yankee world, a mortified consensus is emerging: Our next loss will drop this old and hapless team below .500, and the franchise might not again see the light of a winning record in 2014. We have no top prospects, and the trade market only offers Alfonso Sorianos, of which we already have one too many. Lou Gehrig is not coming to replace Wally Pipp.

Lately, bloggers have anguished over what few cards management can play. Most are changing the seats on a sinking barge. Some proposals:

1. Tweak the batting order. River Ave says Jeter should bat first, separating him from our "big hitters" - Ellsbury, Gardner, Teixera, Beltran, McCann and Solarte. Big hitters? Together, they have 35 home runs. The Blue Jays' big five has 65, and they don't play in a bandbox. The problem is that Jeter cannot be dropped in the order, because the Brain Trust has decided his farewell tour outweighs the pennant. Thus, why bother?

My solution: Let Girardi pull the order out of a hat, as Billy Martin once did. That way, the fates would drop Jeter, not management.

2. Bench the culprits. There are growing chants to waive Soriano and Brian Roberts, who have failed this team now for 62 games. Sori began wearing out his welcome last fall, when he killed a last-ditch rally - and, in essence, our season - by trying to steal third base with two outs against the Redsocks. Can you imagine that? A veteran... attempting to steal third with two outs? As for Roberts, he still has no defining, bonding moment as a Yankee. Does anyone think he ever will?

Another player whose fuse is surprisingly short - considering he's ours for five years - is Brian McCann. He's played fine defense and seems like a leader, but he has been utterly discombobulated by the over-shifts, reduced to a .220-hitting mediocrity. Five years? God help us. Will he ever be combobulated again?

3. Bring up somebody. Two candidates have emerged, and both play 2B. Jose Pirela is 24, crushing it at Scranton, but the Brain Trust ruled two seasons ago that he is a utility player. This has to be demoralizing, especially if you don't happen to always believe the Brain Trust. Surely, the Yankee scouts know more than we do. But wouldn't it be great if statistical metrics also proved their success? After all, they were the ones who went out and got Sori, Roberts and McCann.

The other kid is Robert Refsnyder, who plays 2B at Trenton. He's been on an inhuman tear for a month. No one player this year has more emerged as our long-range hope. But the guy is still learning 2B, and jumping Triple A might not be the best idea. Thus, we are terrified that his role will be part of No. 4.

4. Trade for another salary dump. Soon, David Price will be on the market. The Rays would demand a package of our best prospects, which they surely know well, since the Yankees critical farm club plays in Tampa. The quickest way to climb into Wild Card contention is to trade our future to Tampa. Next winter, we'll sign free agents - just slog on, indefinitely.

November began with the stated goal of reaching a $187 million payroll. That would allow the Yankees to escape the crushing luxury taxes that fuel small market rivals. That goal vanished, along with Robbie Cano, leading to a string of panicked signing. Now, we see the worst of all worlds - a mediocre team, no high draft picks, and a payroll still out of control.

The Steinbrenners have somehow managed to build an exact replica of the 1980s monstrosity that their father orchestrated: A collection of favored stars on a bloated, second-division team, and nobody happy with the outcome.

And now, they are facing a Death Valley August, the first yawner since the early 1990s, before Jeter arrived. This team could be out of the Wild Card race by July 31. YES viewership will plummet, the writers will swarm, and those blooms of empty seats behind home plate will explode. This could be our August of discontent. Soon, the cries for change won't be limited to our infield.  

Rainout Theater

Lou Gehrig slides head-first into danger when he quits the Yankees to become a rancher in Rawhide (1938). Read all about the Iron Horse's movie career at the New York Times.

The Gods have spoken: Juju Intervention RAINED OUT

And tomorrow is a West Coast game. It starts too late to launch a reasonable East Coast juju intervention.

This is bad.

This is really bad.

BREAKING: TONIGHT, TONIGHT, TONIGHT: AN INTERNATIONAL JUJU INTERVENTION ON BEHALF OF THE YANKEES

IMPORTANT... MAYDAY... TONIGHT...

Slaves of Solarte, spewers of phlegm, watchers of Tanaka:

The time is nigh!

The 2014 Yankees are officially hapless, a national disgrace, akin to Donald Sterling and the war on cooties. Somehow, those crazy ancient Mayans nailed it: Our world did end in 2012. We must take it back.

As wearers of Yankee beads and fur, we will not go bonelessly into the All-Star break, while our box scores are shredded into animal bedding. We must mobilize!

In the second inning of tonight's game, on or near 8:42 p.m. E.S.T. - (The 8 is for Yogi, the 42 for Mariano) - attack your TV, radio or personal monitoring device - (not the one on your ankle) - and direct all anger, angst, hope and fury into one cataclysmic, world-wide Rizzutonic wave of juju ejaculate, spewed in the direction of Kansas City. (If you do not know the direction of Kansas City, just close your eyes and imagine a six-foot-ball Porterhouse steak running through a cornfield.)

Dammit, have you ever wondered why the hell you are here? WELL, THIS IS WHY.

Follow the instructions in this video. (The basics are also outlined in my 2012 book, The Juju Rules.)





On May 21, 2012, we conducted our first-ever Internation Juju Intervention (IJI). The Yankees went 20-4. Goddammit. Look.  It.   Up. On Aug. 31, 2012, we launched the second IJI. The Yankees went 10-3. A third IJI that year - in the depths of September - fizzled. The Yankiverse ran out of Juju.

Last year, an IJI broke a June slump, but there weren't enough Rizzutons in the Marvel universe to save that Jason Nixian lineup. Tonight, we must strike. The Yankees are Timmy. You are Lassie. Timmy has fallen in the well. Lower him a rope with your forepaws and pull him out with your teeth. At 8:42 p.m., we must retake the Yankiverse.

The key: PUBLIC MOBILIZATION. Send this link to true-blooded Yankee enthusiasts everywhere. Keep it out the hands of Redsock malignancies and residents of Kansas, so we can catch them napping. Best results: Buy or rent a sound truck, drive Yankee neighborhoods and rouse people from their slumber.

Friends... let's be real: This might not work. BUT, THEN AGAIN, IT MIGHT.

And I assure you: THIS IS OUR ONLY CHANCE. It is now or never. We, as fans, cannot go gently into this wild card race.

JUJU, TONIGHT, GIVE EM HELL, COMRADES.

IF WE GO DOWN, WE GO DOWN... SHOOTING.

AND FANS OF OTHER TEAMS, IN OTHER UNIVERSES, WILL LOOK AT US AND SAY, "DAMM, THOSE PEOPLE ARE CRAZY..."

THIS SHALL BE OUR FINEST HOUR! FIGHT! JUJU! TONIGHT! WIN! TONIGHT! GAHHHHHH!

Another Predictable Loss

Once the Yanks trailed by 2-1, today's game was pretty much over.

We, typically, only score two runs on a good day, and it was clear that the two run limit might exceed our abilities today.  That vision proved correct.

The power-hitting, middle of the line-up guy, Carlos Beltran, is back and he looked exactly like he did when he watched a called strike three for the Mets, in the closest they have come in decades to making the world series. This was just before he had a re-birth for the Cardinals, and just before they dumped him as useless for the future.

When, of course, Brian Cashman signed him for three more years.

The called strike three in Kansas City this afternoon painted the center of home plate, waste high.  Easy to confuse for a ball.  Someone please tell me what a profession, experienced major league hitter is thinking, to take that pitch.  Dinner menu?

And my favorite clutch hitter, Brett Gardener, worked a 3-2 count, with the tying run on third in the 9th, before flailing at a ball in the dirt for strike three.  The pitch was so crappy, the catcher could not get his glove on it, so the speedy Brett had to be gunned out at first.

Are we back to .500 now?

Let's have a poll;  everyone write in how they think we shall get our two runs in the next game.

Mr.  Cashman, why don't you provide the first submission?

Thanks.

Brian Cashman is only person in world who thinks Mark Teixeira and Carlos Beltran will stay healthy

The Evil Emp has passed on Kendrys Morales, out-gunned by those free-spending Minnesota Twins. The official "reason:" Teixeira and Beltran are fine, so the Bombers have no place in their powerhouse lineup for a 1B-DH.

This means the Yankees are back to square one - hovering at .500, unable to score runs, and looking to trade prospects they don't have for another team's Antiques Road Show salary dump.

Listen: Everyone knows that you can't predict baseball, you just can't, no matter what anybody thinks, you... just... can't... but - well - here is a prediction anyway:

By the time Kendrys Morales is ready to play for the Twins - they estimate it'll take two weeks - either Teixeira or Beltran will be out. One of the two will be nursing something. Just wait.

It's fate, that's all. Some things simply have to happen. And this is one.

Whether you're early
Or whether you're late,
It don't mean shit to fate.

If Cashman had done the Bowe Bergdahl deal...

America would have given up...

1. Cash (Unmarked Swiss treasury notes, gold.)
2. "Future considersations" (Known only to CIA)
3. Zolio Almonte.
4. Four terrorists to be named later

Taliban would give up...
1. Bergdahl
2. Alfonso Soriano

John Sterling would...
1. Call it "a fabulous deal," considering America's need for power-hitting outfielder.
2. Start thinking of Bowe Bergdahl home run call. "Booooooowe-klahoma, where the wind goes sweeping down the plain..."

Billy Madden would...
1. Stress that America still needs pitching.
2. Suggest drone plays RF

Fox News would say...
1. Redsocks still doing everything right.
2. Joe Girardi must be impeached.
3. Michael Pineda called "deserter."

What am I missing?

Headzup: Alphonso is attending the Belmont today

Big night for irrelevant organizational fodder

Not that it matters, what with the Dream Team busting out and scoring four runs. But the Scranton dead-enders be "rakin' leaves." Kyle Roller went 4-5, with a double and his 14th HR, having ignited that offense since arriving three weeks ago... not that anybody should be keeping track.

Just close your eyes and keep repeating, "He's NOT a prospect, it doesn't matter, he's NOT a prospect, it doesn't matter..." At least, that's what the Yankees are doing.

"He was a baseball figure from an earlier time: enchantingly familiar, tough and enduring, stuffed with plays and at-bats and statistics and anecdotes and wisdom accrued from tens of thousands of innings. Baseball stays on and on, unchanged, or so we used to think as kids, and Zimmer, sitting there, seemed to be telling us yes, you’re right, and see you tomorrow."

The New Yorker weighs in on Zim.

Is it true? Are we battling for a chinzy one-game playoff?

It's not even July. Wild Card?

Yuck.

A-Rod Anticipates "Significant" Nasal Issues Next Season

Seeking meeting with California Chrome handlers.

Says global warming and earlier Spring "are really messing with my allergies."

Hello, Scott... this is the Yankees. About Kendrys Morales...

News report: The Yankees asked Kendrys Morales to delay free agency, so they can further evaluate Mark Teixeira and Carlos Beltran.

Scott Boras: (Picks up phone) Well, well, if it isn't my favorite caller, Brian Cashman. Ka-ching! Hello, Brian. I bet I know why you're calling. The Kendrys Morales Yard Sale, am I right?

Brian Cashman: Uhm, yeah, well...

Boras: Bri, Bri, Bri... hold on. Let me stop you. I know why you're calling. You have a number. A nice, fat, juicy dollar figure. You're calling because Kendrys will no longer cost a draft pick, and he's sat out the season thus far, and he's a switch hitter, and your team sucks, so... OK, lay it on me. Twenty mill? Thirty? Forty? I'm listening...

Cashman: We were wondering...

Boras: You know, the phone's been ringing off the hook. Kendrys is taking swings in the cage. But I'm excited about the Yankees being involved. So... the number please... fifty?

Cashman: Uh, well, that's sort of...

Boras: The Royals called. Do you believe that? They're desperate. Of course, I'm not expecting Kansas City to outbid the mighty Yankees, eh? That would be hilarious. So... how high is the sky?Surprise me, Brian. Amaze me. I want you to put me over your knee and spank me.

Cashman: We were thinking... umm... July?

Boras: July?

Cashman: Yeah. July. Um, we were thinking, like, you know, uhmmm... maybe Kendrys was enjoying his summer? with his kids still in school? and - you know - he would want to go slow on this. Maybe come back in July?

Boras: July.

Cashman: Yeah, I mean, hey - we're interested! Don't get me wrong. We're all in. But jeeze, Scott, everything has happened so suddenly, we really haven't have a chance to think. It's like... whoosh.

Boras: July.

Cashman: Yeah. Or another week. That would work. July would be perfect. Think of it:  Independence Day! The fireworks! And Kendrys Morales announces his free agency! The world is waiting! Wouldn't that be incredible? Doesn't that have a ring to it? Hello? Scott? Are you there? Scott? Are you there?

Yankees draft lefty reliever; can he pitch for us this weekend?

Considering Brian Cashman's terrifying effect on LH relief pitchers - he steals their souls and keeps them in a vault buried next to Big Papi's jersey, below Yankee Stadium - our first round top pick in yesterday's draft, Jacob Lindgren ought to go into hiding. He's a steely-eyed closer from Mississippi State, up for a bunch of national college rah-rah awards - a junior and certain to sign away his soul.  He's 21, old enough to drink - which he should do, heavily - considering the impending horrors that await him.

The Cashman LOOGY Curse is one of the Yankees' most frightening certainties: The team - which plays in a LH-hitting bandbox - can never keep a decent lefty-specialist.

Cashman devours their souls like potato chips. Cesar Cabral, Clay Rapata, Boone Logan, Damaso Marte, Mike Dunn, Phil Coke, Aaron Laffey, Raul Valdes, Steve Garrison, Royce Ring, Billy Traber, Kei Igawa, Ron Villone, Mike Meyers, Chase Wright, Matt Smith, Sean Henn, Paul Quantrill, Alan Embree, Alex Graman, Wayne Franklyn, Jason Anderson, Felix Heredia, Brad Halsey, CJ Nitkowsk bi, Gabe White... had enough?

Cabral was a slappy-happy story of spring training. He made the team out of nowhere, looked tough on lefties. We couldn't wait to try him out on Big Papi. Then... whoosh... a few hit batters and a meltdown, and he's gone. And - of course - Matt Thorton has been horrible. And now we have that LeBlank dude, whose name - out of protest - I will purposefully never remember.

I wonder where they will start this kid. Trenton? He's old enough. And Cashman is always looking for another soul. Is Brien Taylor still throwing?

Ode to the Gerbil

Old Zim
When I think of him
Looks like chaw and tar
And a grand har-har
To those squares
Who don't care
About baseball
And giving your all
For what you love.
And when push comes to shove,
Had Martinez been 70,
Zim would've pounded him plenty.

You're our kind of guy.
Goodbye, Popeye.

Steal this book... (or buy it): New, from one of our esteemed IIHIIFIIc writers

Alibi Ike has done it again: Double Indignity, the second installment of Rex Koko, Private Clown... "a tough joey with a deadly past and a nose for picking all the wrong fights."* 

Buy it. Now. While there is still time.

*My favorite line. 

The Hard Truth

This is a difficult game.  Not predictable.  Just difficult.

People have to be stars to be signed by a major league team.  At least a high school star, somewhere.

They get paid a good amount of money while very young. Girls follow the team buses around, and they make baseball cards with your name and picture on them for kids to purchase.

As we all know, if you make it to the major leagues, you have a chance at great death and fame.  Brian MCCann gets $85 million for 5 years, guaranteed.  Whether he plays or not.  Whether he performs well or not.  And we know that he has already logged millions form the Braves.  And he is a mod-level starter.  The Derek Jeters of the world get multiples of McCann's fame and fortune.

There is a catch, however.  A requirement of sorts.  Each season, from low "A" ball up to AAA, the competition stiffens.  Exponentially.  And, if a player is going to make it up through those ranks, he has to perform at every level.

Few get the chance to debut in the major leagues but, when they do, they must perform.  Immediately and consistently.  Or their who at fane and fortune will likely be withdrawn, and they will be on the bus back to AAA.  Not a bad life for a young person.  They still make $300,000- $400,000 on average for playing ball, girls still chase them, and the dream lives on for a while.

Let me say it again;  When you get your chance you have to deliver. 

A few Yankees who recently were given this shot:

1.  Almonte - got almost no playing time and few at bats.  But he struck out, hit into double plays, and popped up every time.  He blew it.  I know it is unfair, but he has to "wow" everyone with his abilities to hit and field, if he is going to be a player.  He did not flash.  And is on the bus.

2.  Ramirez - the new pitcher from Scranton debuted last night and, aside form the hat angle designed to "set him apart as a stud," he gave up a home run, a near home run, a double,  a walk and the lead, in two innings of work.  Pitchers always get a free ride when there is no one else.  But this was not an awe-inspiring start.

3.  LeBlanc - a piece of detritus who should be on some bus, going away, very soon.  Were he not a lefty, he would have been roofing homes a long time ago.  Pure crap from the scrap heap.

4.  Preston Claiborne - on the bus.  He was given a lot of chances.  and was, largely, mediocre.  When he had to come through, get the big out to keep us in the game, he gave up home runs instead.

5.  John Ryan Murphy -  Has the league already caught up to him?  Last night he was far worse than even Soriano.  He wss always batting from 0-2 counts, and pretty much strikes out.  He was ferocious at the plate when he first arrived, and we all got excited.  Last night, he had a shot to show himself worthy of being our starting catcher.  A door opened to that fame and fortune.  He developed "doe eyes" and failed miserably.

 The door will shut if he performs like that again.  And his chances from here forward, dwindle significantly.

In this game, potential stars perform when they get the chance.  And they do it with regularity.  None of the above performed when they had their shot.

It may not come again.

Take the pill, and let's go on a dream trip to Trenton... la-la-la...

Last night, the Mediocre Empire lost. Again. 

Should we care? I dunno. Those invisible fans sitting behind home plate sure don't. When the A's tied the game, I switched to Netflix and watched Lilyhammer. I felt like a crime boss who'd been given a new identity. Yep. I closed my eyes and went to...  Norway... No, Trenton, I mean TRENTON. Yeah, I checked box scores.

Listen: Forget Yankee Stadium. Forget Alfonso Soriano. Forget Vidal Nuno. Think: Trenton. 

It's all happening across the river. 

Look at that lineup. Only one guy over age 27! (That's Sanchez, a Cuban, who is 28, going on whatever. Forgetaboutm.) Compared to past Trenton lineups, that's pre-school.

We have two fading STYUD's (That is: "Still Too Young to Utterly Dismiss") in Mason "Classical Gas" Williams and Tyler Austin "City Limits." Williams recently was benched, I suspect, to reboot his disillusionment; he was hitting .190. Austin homered last night - only his 2nd; he's recovering from a Teixeira wrist and - sadly, it seems - still looking for a position. He plays 3B, RF and 1B. Can't say either of them looks so promising anymore. But once upon a time, Baseball America - "BA" - loved them. And they are still too young to utterly dismiss. They are both 22.

We have an over-achiever in Ben Gamel, who BA ignores, but who simply hits. He is 22, too. We have our "Number One Baseball America Prospect" in Gary Sanchez, 21, the heir apparent to Jesus Montero. Unfortunately, Sanchez' greatest pro achievement is still his bonus, the largest ever given by the Yankees to a Latino (at that time.)

Ah, but then there are the Wonder Boys - Pete O'Brien and Robert Refsnyder.

Bloggers have gushed about them, so I won't rehash Wikipedia. O'Brien, 24, has 21 HRs this year. Good grief, when was the last time a Yankee farmhand who was not Shelley Duncan, hit 35 HRs? They're playing him everywhere, trying to find a position. (That's a good sign, by the way; remember when they insisted that Jesus Montero would only catch, because they wanted his value to be high? As in... "his trade value?" Shouldn't we have considered that to be a red flag? Should we now consider it to be a red flag with their insistence on keeping Sanchez behind the plate? I dunno. Just asking.) O'Brien is listed at 6'3" and 215. He strikes out too much, doesn't walk enough. But all that hope I don't have for Alfonso Soriano... I have it for O'Brien. And it feels great.

Refsnyder, 23, looks like a hitter. This is his second full season of pro ball. He was drafted out of college in June 2012, went straight to Charleston and booted a barge-load of routine grounders. He's improved ever since, and apparently made himself into a viable 2B. Over the last two weeks, he's been the second coming of Joe Morgan.

O'Brien recently was jumped to Trenton. I doubt the Yankees will barnstorm him, so he'll probably stick in Chris Christie's orbit at least until September, then who knows? But Refsnyder is running out of traffic cones to relocate. To jump him to Scranton, the Yankees must move Jose Pirela - (see post below). They could trade Pirela - probably for not much or - my preference -waive Brian Roberts, (unless he starts hitting soon... like TONIGHT.)

My fear? That Brian Cashman - under pressure to boost YES ratings - will go Bowe Bergdahl on the organization and trade five guys for the 2014 version of Denny Neagle. But let's give Cash credit: For all his foibles, he has tried to stay away from a big ticket trashing of our farm system. He hasn't traded a Drabek, a McGriff, or a Buhner. Fingers crossed. Let's hope he keeps our hopes alive. Otherwise, I strongly suggest Lilyhammer.

I'm escaping to Brazil... I mean, Scranton

Lately, every post I've written - like every Yankee loss - has looked the same: I wail about a mediocre team and a dire future. I am The Gipper, screaming, "MR. STEINBRENNER, TEAR DOWN THIS WALL!" It does no good. We are in a death spiral.

I find myself checking box scores - minor league box scores. I hope to find something. I think: Maybe someday - after all the Beltrans and A-Rods are gone - a child could lead us. (Of course, we'll have McCann for five, and I will probably be dead before Ellsbury leaves.) I'm done with railing about Alfonso Soriano. I'm that guy in Brazil, zoning out with the headphones. This morning, I visited Scranton.

Not much there, eh? Not since 22-year-old OF Ramon Flores went on the DL with a tweaked gonad.  (He was starting to hit.) But look, look, LOOK: Jose Pirela is only 24 - (I say "only 24" because he's a Yankee; on other teams, he would be "already 24.") - and, jeepers, he's spanking the league. Jose stole his sixth base last night, also made an error. His problem? He toiled three years at Trenton (even though in his second season, he hit .293. Now, how does a 2B hit .293 for a season - but NOT get promoted?) One of these days, the Mediocre Empire will cut bait on Brian Roberts. Will they give this guy a chance? Have they learned anything from Yangervis Solarte?

Then there is Kyle Roller, 26, who hit his 13th home run of the season last night. (Nine at Trenton, where he had been hitting .385.) Roller spent two years at Tampa, due to an injury. That's why he's so old. The guy is built like Jon Favreau, and OK, he may never see the light of Yankee Stadium. But some guys come out of nowhere, and a smart organization turns them into positives - maybe a trade chip, maybe a utility specialist. (Remember Jim Leyritz, who was 26 and viewed as fodder.) Could we get something out of Roller. Or is he just another Brandon Laird?

Neither of these guys may ever make it. But I'd rather think about them than Alfonso Soriano.

A Serious Proposal

After last night's debacle, when the porous membrane that was once the Yankees bullpen coughed up another game and sent us to .500, 6 games back, I got up in the middle of the night (that would be now) after too many vodka and tonics the previous evening (all that sugar...and, OK, alcohol...). To be honest, stress is also involved. Let's just say I have not been the best of money managers over my lifetime, and the resulting huge, gaping hole I've put the wife and myself in is getting to me--both very near-term and every other term looking forward.

(Oh, yeah, and Don Zimmer died. Did they really have to put that clip of Pedro fending off the charging bull in Zim's ESPN obit piece? Jesus. Between that and being forced to look at Torre's imperious mug in the obligatory Zim and Joe pic, all sadness was washed away by a creeping nausea. But that may be the vodka and tonics again.)

Seeking solace after reading the sad recap of our latest meltdown, including another key error by the Captain, and awaiting the ECB policy decision and Mario Draghi press conference at 8:30 EDT, I naturally turned to IIH for comfort.

And there, in Duque's piece about the draft, was a ray of hope. Not for the team, they're toast for a good long while, like he said. But as he ran down the list of failed millionaire prospects, a solution to my woes presented itself (Alka Seltzer for the tonic stomach aside). 

Put me in, coach, I'm ready to play. Today.

I hereby declare myself available for a million-dollar signing bonus--I'm open to more--from the New York Yankees. I am willing to go down to single-A, slog through the bus rides, eat bad food and fail miserably, like any good young Latin American (or other) signing. After a couple of seasons, no doubt plagued by injury, I will quietly go away and lick my wounds and count my money, which would still be substantial even after I pay off my enormous debt and restore my wife's depleted trading accounts. I may even be able to retire from my job, or at least scale back to part-time for the remainder of my so-called career.

This may sound crazy, mostly because it is, but what I'm offering is a serious proposition. I would be the oldest-ever signing by a major league baseball team, a freak and an oddity like Bill Veeck's midget, but a tremendous lift for middle- and senior-aged fans across the country. Wherever the team bus pulled into town, there could be special promotions--say, 50-cent admission for men 50 and older, with 50-cent beers (the lines to the ballpark men's rooms starts now; remember, these are guys over 50). Sure, I'd suck, but if the Yanks play their cards right, they'll make back all the money they spent on the Ripley's Believe It Or Not season I'll give them in year one. Did any of their 16-year-old prospects do that? Nope. I could.

Dear Yankees brass: if the million-dollar
contract doesn't appeal to you, I have other ideas
for boosting attendance. Call me.

Meanwhile, the Yankees pull the sports world's eyes off the increasingly lousier team they're shelling out gazillions for at the major league level. There might even be an angle about how they're finally wasting some money on a guy who really needs it, diffusing some of the ill will built up over the years from "buying pennants." (cough...not this year, kids, and ask Mattingly how the big-spending Dodgers are working out for him.)

I'll play the freak, the clown, the good-time Charlie who downs beer and dogs like the Babe and hits like the Hoss...hell, a lot worse than Hoss. My organized baseball experience amounts to one at-bat in a Connie Mack game (grounded to second) and a half-inning in right field (caught a high fly with one hand, causing comment from other players that I could hear drifting out from the infield). But I will strive to always be entertaining and use my decades of marketing experience to find ways to pack a minor-league ballpark, even if injured, which at my age is extremely likely.

Think about it, Yankees braintrust. It's a solid idea. I need the money, you need the publicity and distraction. It's a win-win. And it can't be worse than the stuff you do trying to make good decisions.

Fight breaks out in heaven

Cashman Has Built A Two-Fer

As the dust settles on the first two months of the 2014 season, it is clear what we have.

A team that can score two runs per game.  No more and, usually, no fewer.  In the last 5 games, we have scored 10 runs.  That is Two runs per game.  We can lose 3-2, 7-2, 10-2…it doesn't matter.

Let's do a test;  I gave up last night once Oakland went ahead 3-2, despite Kuroda's best start of the year.  He went deep into the game, left with a 2-1 run lead, and we had Dellin and Warren rested.  (Not sure Joe was confident with David Robertson yet, after his melt-down.)

Not sure Joe had his thinking cap on, either, when our slick-field, but absolutely no-hit,
shortstop ( Ryan? ) came to bat with runners on first and second,  no one out., and the Yankees desperate for an insurance run against one of baseballs most prolific scoring teams.

He let him hit away.  Ryan did, in fairness, fake a bunt on a fastball down the middle, but then he went on to watch a called strike three bend right across the heart of the plate.
Give him some credit, he complained that the pitch was inside.  It wasn't.  Not even close.

 I remember in elementary school, baseball coaches would say, " if you have 2 strikes on you, you must swing at anything close."  It was like a universal language.  Like, " hold your breath when you go under water."

Ryan probably can't swim, either.

Oh, I forgot;  the test.  How did we do last night?

What was the final score?

Bad team, no draft picks

Lately, a few budding baseball versions of Mel Kiper Jr. have held "mock drafts," seeking to project the Yankees top pick in the annual selection of talent. Hats off to these pioneers of predictions! It's crazy enough, trying to project the top 10 picks - much less waiting until the Yanks hit the board, at No. 55. By then, Boston will have chosen twice, and Toronto - currently tops in the AL East - will have selected three players.

Not only that, but these bloggers must consider the Yankee love of off-the-chart picks (Culver, Bichette, Brackman), nepotism (Bichette, O'Neill, Parrish), kids with no chance whatsoever of being signed (Cole, Henry, Pettitte) or just guys destined for the Eternity of Scranton-Wilkes Barre (too many to list).

It reminds you of another storied NY franchise, and if memory serves - despite attempts to blot it - the grand family ownership consistently doubled-down on their man in charge: Isiah Thomas. Yes, the Knicks, who once again this year flopped and failed, and who won't have a first-round pick to show for it.

My personal worst coach in history is Richie Kotite, who piloted the demise of both the Jets and Eagles, while also trading their draft picks. It's that rare talent: To build a bad team and not even have a high pick to show for it.

My perfect franchise would have owner Donald Sterling yapping away about race relations, with Isiah Thomas as GM and Richie Kotite as coach. Imagine the dynasty!

But what if they faced no salary caps and could spend $500 million on free agents? Could they still be bad?

Well, the 2014 Yankees can!

Of course, it's still early. John Sterling must have said those words 10 times last night. Between now and July 31, the Yanks will do "whatever it takes" to stay in the race. Most likely, it will require trading prospects. Two years ago, they acquired Ichiro. Last year, it was Alfonso. Both brought quick shots of adrenaline - then the erosion, as we learned why their former teams wanted so desperately to see them go. The Yankees can look for somebody and prop up the administration of Brian Cashman, who has run things since 2005.

The latest company line is that we shouldn't worry about having no draft picks. The Yankees intend to compensate by swamping the Latino market with money. They will shell out tens of millions of dollars on 16-year-old boys (and their agents/pimps) - a hideous thought and a poor long-term plan, as well. To lavish such money on a 16-year-old seems like folly. Beyond projecting how the kid will look eight years from now, when he's MLB ready, you must consider the impact of becoming a millionaire at age 16.

Our bonus baby catcher, Jesus Montero, never learned to catch. He didn't need to learn. He was a frickin' millionaire. Our bonus baby outfielder - Kelvin De Leon (whom you probably never heard of) -- never shortened his stroke. He didn't need to. He was a frickin' millionaire. (The Yankees released him last year.) Now we have Gary Sanchez, slogging at Trenton, still trying to learn the footwork of catching. Maybe he will. Maybe he won't. Truth is: he doesn't need to. He's a frickin' millionaire.

Finally, by breaking the bank on 16-year-olds - the Yankees will not only be furthering an exploitative and rancid economic system in Latin America, but they will exploding their own luxury tax. All that money will go to other MLB teams, so they can bid against the Yankees for Cuban or Japanese talent. When the next Masahiro Tanaka hits the market, the Yankees be fighting their own pocketbook.

We just keep spending, and the bloat just keeps growing.

So, Mel, whodayathink the Yanks will pick at Number 55! A 7-footer or somebody's nephew? Oh, God. It's going to be a bad decade.

The Redsocks face one of sports' great rivalries - against Tampa

Yes, the Yankee demise has gotten so bad that Boston fans don't even have us No. 1 in their cross hairs. Consider this thread on Reddit:

Redsock-Yankee rivalry, you say? Where?

The two teams play like old friends in an office softball league. Whenever Big Papi reaches second-base, it's tough for him to not hug Jeter. Why would the players brawl? Next year, they might be in the opposite dugout, like Jacoby Ellsbury. Ferocity is also muted by the fact that it's a game between two .500 teams. They both know the deal: Win today and lose tomorrow! Everybody gets paid, anyway. Hey, whose got Brazil in the World Cup punch board?

Where are all the people the Yankees are reporting?

This is from a crappy, "isn't life wonderful" video put forth by MLB, showing a Yankee fan clapping for Robinson Cano, while a hotdog dangles from his mouth. You can see it here, if you need to.

But there is one real news story of home Yankee games this season, and it's not getting reported:

There is nobody there. 

Behind the dugouts, behind the plate, everywhere... there is nobody there.

Look at all those blue empties. Trust me, those people are not all simultaneously using the rest room. You can say that last night was a make-up game. You can say it was Monday night. But the weather was nice, it was warm, it was King Felix and Robbie Cano... and here's the really weird part.

The Yankees last night reported a large crowd. 

According to MLB, the Yankees' paid attendance last night was 41,539. 

According to MLB, Yankee Stadium last night was 84.4 percent full.

Where are the people?

Who Is Responsible?

As Duque says ( actually implied ), Soriano can only hit a fastball.  If you throw a breaking ball in the dirt, he will flail at it, unsuccessfully, every time.  And did anyone notice his error on a routine, soft-liner to right field the other day?

Who is responsible for the Yankees having this two-sided dog ( no hit; no field ) on the Yankee roster?  Brian Cashman.

We have a speedy center fielder with 2 home runs and a batting average in the .260's.  He was great once.  For years he was an all star.   The Yankees signed him to a 7 year contract well after his peak years had occurred.

Who is responsible for the Yankees having this over-the-hill player locked up for 7 years,
preventing ( barring injury ) any young player from ever getting a shot ?
Brian Cashman.

Who is responsible for signing a .250 singles hitter, with limited range, to replace Robbie Cano?  A guy signed despite a history of injuries and rapidly approaching old age?

Brian Cashman.

Who is responsible for inking Carlos Beltran to a three year, $45 million deal ( not sure of the number here, but it is huge ) when the world series champions, for whom he gave his last good season, didn't want him anymore because they decided to go younger?

Brian Cashman.

Who signed a discarded catcher, whose reputation for collapse had not quite caught up to him yet ( thus affording Brian McCann an opportunity for a final "pension" pay-day from some idiotic team ) to a 5 year contract, thus blocking the career development and contribution of players at the one position where we might actually have some talent from playing?

Brian Cashman

Who, regularly, makes horrible trades for pitchers who cannot pitch, and hitters who cannot hit and manages an amateur draft where the Yankees have acquired zero ( ZERO ) talent since Derek Jeter?

Brian Cashman.

It is like he was asked to lead us into battle, and we got slaughtered.  More than once.  Then, we promote him and ask him to again lead us to slaughter.  And he is doing a fine job.

Cashman must go.  He is responsible.  He is awful.

It's Even Worse Than You Think

“Maybe we could have done a little bit better,” Joe Girardi said. “But I don’t think it was from lack of effort.”

The Yankees are a Sori team full of Sori excuses

He came up last night with runners on base in a game we still could win. The YES court jesters said he was 4 for his last 23, but ready to bust out. King Felix never threw a strike. He took three hacks and wandered back to his stool, Grandyman-like, while I screamed: "GOOD! THANK YOU! GOOD!"

Yes, folks... I was glad. I wanted him to strike out. It's that bad. I'm back in John Mayberry Territory - the land of Travis Hafner, Andruw Jones, Vernon Wells and countless Tartabulls. I'm back to rooting against a Yankee - so sickened by the sight of Alfonso Soriano that I've taken to hoping that he goes 0 for 30, so we can cut bait on his sorry Sori butt.

Dear God, I have fallen down, and I cannot get up.

No matter. The Yankees won't bench Sori. For all their "free-spending" ways, the Yankees never walk away from a dime they've shelled out on a clunker. Nope. They ride it into the ground, their mouthpieces on YES forever assuring us that he's on the verge of busting out. Oh, Jesse Barfield jeeuuuuuuuuust missed that one, otherwise it would have been an upper-decker - instead of a pop-up. Oh, he jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuust missed it.

Kill me. Please. Somebody. In the head, while I'm sleeping. Just do it.

I CANNOT GO THROUGH ANOTHER THREE MONTHS OF ALFONSO SORIANO.

It's gotten late, early. Overnight. Mark Teixeira's wrist has pushed everything into Defcon 4. Without Tex, this team couldn't beat the Jamaican bobsledders. There is talk - thus far, among disillusioned bloggers - of signing Kendrys Morales. For weeks, I've beaten the drums for such a move. Now, I dunno.

The Yankees need to be ALL IN or ALL OUT - and maybe we should consider the latter.

From now on, Hal Steinbrenner must gauge every move on how it will affect next year. Otherwise, come next June, we will be in the same sorry boat. We'll be watching the old Jeter version of A-Rod - without gifts and ovations - while Tex and CC slog against deteriorating frames - and yet another free agent class slides toward mediocrity. Next year would be our third straight without making the playoffs - and this is the Bud Selig expanded version, not the 1980s model. This would be a genuinely horrible operation, run by billionaire heirs and an entourage of suck-ups. We may be turning into the Knicks.

Sorry to be negative. But a 10-2 loss, following a 7-2 loss - both to tomato cans - doesn't inspire hope.

Two Yankees have performed well this year. Of course, the first is Masahiro Tanaka. Hopefully, this will inspire Hal to again recognize the existence of Cuba and Japan. The second player is Yangervis Solarte, a nobody. Want to hear something weird? We might have three more Solartes languishing in Gitmo Scranton. But because of Soriano, Brian Roberts, Ichiro, Beltran, et al - we won't ever see them.

There is a veteran minor leaguer named Zelous Wheeler - the guy plays everywhere; he's hitting .297. There is a tiny Cuban outfielder called Adonis Garcia; he had a nice hitting streak; he's batting .304. And Jose Pirela, a 2B, has been on a tear, lifting his average to .318. They are in their late 20s, none is a real prospect, and the Yankees have never viewed them as anything more than organizational fodder. (As they did with Solarte.) All they do is hit. They won't get a shot, unless the Yankee swamp is drained. But we'll keep playing Sori because - well, who knows - maybe he'll get hot.

We can come in fourth with Sori, and we can come in fourth without him. I guess it doesn't matter. But the Redsocks have righted their ship, and the AL East could be a dangerous place again. Right now, I can't watch. When a certain player comes to bat, I am a threat to hurt my TV.

The Wisdom of Spring

Before the season began, John and Suzyn were interviewed by MLB.com about the 2014 Yankees team. As we all know by now, you can't predict baseball. Some of the comments they made prove that fact, but others display the accumulated wisdom of these two veteran broadcasters.

MLB.com: Brian Cashman made a lot of other moves this offseason -- Brian McCann, Carlos Beltran, Brian Roberts at second base, Jacoby Ellsbury in center field. How do you think that whole lineup is going to play? It's certainly a different team than last year.

Sterling: I think they're going to score runs and I really like the starting pitching. One thing: You should never fall in love with these things during the spring. I try not to think of the spring as a harbinger of things to come. I think they might have a very good ballclub. 

MLB.com: What do you think was the most important move Cashman made?

Waldman: Oh, boy. I think obviously Brian McCann, because we saw last year, you cannot go through a season without a real catcher. I'm not saying anything bad about Austin Romine or Chris Stewart. You need a No. 1 catcher and you see already the difference...I think Jacoby Ellsbury is going to be fine with the little calf or whatever. I think people are going to love watching him play. I love Beltran already; you can see what he's going to do. I was saying to Derek Jeter today that he and Brian Roberts look like they have been making the double play for the last 10 years. They know each other so well already...We sat through last year's Spring Training and we knew exactly what was happening. I think this is going to be a good year.

Sterling: The key to all this...is staying healthy. There are going to be injuries, but I think the Yankees had a great camp. You've seen pitchers are going to go down who can pitch up here, and we're going to see players who are going to go down who can help during the year. They're a much deeper organization than they were last year.

Obviously, the concept of the Strategic Injury Methodology™ is not something either would mention or perhaps even dare to think of, since they are paid by the Yankees, not by WFAN – the flagship of the New York Yankees Radio Network – and should not be considered journalists or objective in any way. Which is fine, they have their role.

What is interesting is Suzyn's slip about 2013: "We sat through last year's Spring Training and we knew exactly what was happening." Alas, they did not share that knowledge with their adoring public 12-14 long months ago but kept it to themselves, carrying the burden for us. One gets the distinct feeling that this Spring, they may have seen exactly what was happening, also, but spared us out of their generosity of spirit and the mercy of their enormous hearts.

Yesterday, entering the ninth, unaware of his impending pain, The Master joyously crooned

More Crap, Sans Wit

Dave Robbie was truly terrible today for his second blown save of the season. Which, when you consider how many saves some well-regarded closers blow per season, is really not bad. As long as it doesn't keep happening with any regularity.

But one thing about this one: it was well and truly blown. Five runs without getting out of the inning.

Well, even the Mick put up a golden sombrero sometimes.

I had something really terribly funny to put here, but I want to keep my record of wit-free crap postings pure.

A hat tip to Phil Phranchise, who pretty much stymied the Yankees in the Bandbox of Death for pitchers of his fly-ball ilk, and tossed one fine game. Conversely, as Alphonso just said, the Yankees offense sputtered once again and only came up with two runs. I choose to give Phil credit for our anemic showing, since I've always had a soft spot for him due to the fact that he carried the largest heap of expectations on his shoulders since Bobby Murcer took over center field (hey, Bobby started as a shortstop, just like Mick, and they're both from Oklahoma!!).

For those of you too demoralized or lazy to visit a standings page, the Yanks are now 3.5 behind Tonronto, who won today, and Boston, who also won today, is now only six back and very safely out of the cellar. As Duque pointed out, we're worse than we were at this point last year...

Are we worth more than Kate M's butt? Methinks not. It's a hell of a butt.

Gobsmacked !!!

It is really hard to win games when the most you can score is two runs.

Our offense is just down to dirt now.  No power. No clutch hits.  Scrapping for runs.  Needing walks and errors on top of broken bat singles.

Mike Tyson used to say, " everyone can have a good strategy until they take a hard right to the face."

Joe's strategy today took a hard right to the face.

Now, for the second time in two weeks, we have to wonder if David Robertson has the
 fortitude to, "come back strong," after blowing a save.

Badly blowing a save.

Unraveling.

He waited on The Master

Twenty-five cent tip?

We Have Another On The List…..

The affable one, the one with the list, not the enforcers lurking behind the reeds, asked politely,
" Do you know of a player who rarely plays?  I think he may be of Latino background."

As Girardi, massaging his head and pinching his temples for relief, failed to respond, I could see the hackles of impatience rising on a few of the younger, tough looking birds in the background.

"  It says here, ' he was acquired in a trade with Seattle a few years back,' but we rarely saw him in uniform so he was of no concern to us.  When last seen, he had grease, or some odd substance, on his neck.  Truth be told, swans never put anything on their necks.  They are sacred to us.  He is violating a precious law of nature.  Why would you want him, anyway?"

Girardi tried to deflect the growing hostility by saying,

" We're still evaluating him.  It was a minor set-back.  Some stiffness in the shoulder.  We'll give him a rest for a few days and see."  Girardi started to perspire and his words had an uncertain, fearful tone.

" Again, I only know what is in the note," retorted the now more menacing bird. It says," 'go get  him.  He has already been resting more than a month.'

"It would be really helpful," the leader with the razor sharp, barn -red beak offered,  "if we could wrap this up now.  I think it would be better for all concerned. No one likes to wait and worry.  Wait and worry.  That helps no one."


She glided effortlessly in a wide circle, around the reeds, never taking her red-rimmed eye from Girardi.  In swan-talk, she calmed the gathering, young hoodlums who wanted to just move in and end the drama.

"Who does it serve if we have to come back for him, after another month of hot towels and massages?"



 

Bunghazi: Will Yankees leave Kendrys Morales - and Kate's butt - behind?

Breaking: Not only are pictures of Kate Middleton's butt out there, but so is Kendrys Morales.

Like Kate's butt, Kendrys is not the answer to everything. Unlike Kate's butt, he hits for power, bats from both sides, and has experience at first base. Also, like viewing Kate's butt, signing Morales wouldn't cost the Yankees a draft pick - only money.

Wait a minute. Don't stop me. I'm on a roll.

Like Kate's butt, the LA Clippers of the NBA are worth two billion dollars. (I'm assigning a two billion dollar figure for Kate's butt; it could be more.)

If there is a bigger no-brainer out there for the Yankees - signing Kendrys Morales, that is, not Kate's butt - I don't know what it is.

OK, think this through with me:

Last winter, the Yankees - like Kate's butt - were snake-bitten by bad timing.

The Yankees went through November uncertain of whether A-Rod would return. Thus, they signed Kelly Johnson and combed the scrap heap for options, one of whom was Yangervis Solarte. Likewise, Kate's butt endured a stretch of not knowing how or whether Masahiro Tanaka would be posted to an American team. This often left Brian Cashman - and Kate's butt - struggling for a long-term solution to the Yankee infield, and it showed. The Yankees ended up with so many outfielders that Zolio Almonte - a bonafided major leaguer - ended up in Scranton, while the infield was a jump ball. Kate's butt suffered from cellulite. (I'm postulating here. Without pictures from last winter, we actually don't know.) 

But yesterday, random sequences of God and science worked in our favor. Mark Teixeira was pulled because of a barking wrist. And Kendrys Morales is suddenly an option. Meanwhile, nations of the world stopped wars, droughts and famine in order to examine pictures of Kate's butt.

If the Yankees don't move on Kendrys Morales, the brass should blow up this team - like Kate's butt and the 2012 Redsocks - and think about next year. This is the summer of Kendrys Morales and Kate's butt. We should change this blog to a Kate's butt blog. All in favor say aye. It's Kate's butt or Kendrys, Hal. Your move.

Ten Billion? Twenty? If the L.A. Clippers are worth $2 billion, what does that mean for the Steinbrenners?

Two months ago, I couldn't have told you the name of the second NBA team in Los Angeles.

Today, they say dementia-kingpin Donald Sterling will sell his L.A. Clippers for $2 billion.

The Clippers.

Of the NBA.

Weren't they the Sacramento Conquistadors, or something like that? Or did they play in San Diego? Did they ever win an NBA championship? Did they ever have an MVP? Since when did they become a $2 billion franchise?

Sometime soon - maybe next week, when the Kendrys Morales auction begins - some MLB owner will start whining about the price of free agents, and how baseball must cap payrolls, and how the game needs an international draft, to control costs of signing Latino 16-year-olds.

The LA. Clippers are worth $2 billion. Can someone check the nitrous oxide levels on this planet?