The Fairy Tale Is Over

For two straight games now, we have lost early.

On Tuesday night, we had scored two runs and had the bases loaded with no one out.  We went down meekly, and never scored again.  This was the top of the first inning, by the way.  And because we had the  old slow guys on the bases, the third base coach kept holding the runners at third after base hits to right field.

Turns out, the throws to the plate were so far off the mark, that even Tex and Beltran could have scored easily, had they been waved home. We could have had 4 runs.   The Tampa pitcher was on the ropes.   Almost dealing 40 pitches in the top of the first.  He would have been gone.

But we only scored two runs.  By the end of the 6th, the Tampa pitcher had only thrown about 20 more pitches.  We lost the game in the first inning.  We only scored two.  We always lose when we only score two.

Tonight, when I got home and turned on the game, it was 3-2 Tampa.  It was still early in the game, but I knew it was over.  This team is back in the 2014 pattern of never coming back to win.  Never scoring more than 2 runs.  Whenever we see that number on the scoreboard for the Yankees, we should run and hide.  If we have zero, one, three or anything other than 2, we have a shot.

But that 2 run output, early in the game, is a sign of death.  Strikeouts and pop-outs, double play balls, time after time we have failure after failure to advance a runner.  To score anyone.  Suddenly, everyone is a .200 hitter. 

 The lead off guys get on, and they never move.  Or, they get thrown out, knowing that they only way they can get into scoring position is by stealing a base.  Even when that works, it doesn't matter.  They are left picking their toes.

This team sucks.  Two runs per game sucks.

And that is the reality.  The fairy tale story ended tonight.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Great player, Troy Tulowitzki. Always loved Jeter. You have to appreciate that.

Trade to the Yankees?

Well... Tulo's not long for SS. He'll have to play corner OF. He has six years left on his contract. That's $118 million. He's always hurt. And those big hitting stats came at Coors Field.

In other words... no, no, no, no, no.

Things the Pope absolutely must see if visiting upstate New York

1. The Chicken Barn at the New York State Fair! There's nothing like it, anywhere, certainly not at the Vatican. He can bless the roosters and sniff an overwhelming fragrance that will cling to his robes like a hungry Bishop. Just don't let him try to hand-heel a bantam beak, or he'll go down as Francis, the Four-Fingered.

2. Rest Stop at the Thomas E. Dewey New York State Thruway! Pick a stop, any stop. It doesn't matter. They're like bathroom tiles, all the same. He can bless a Roy Rogers Double Bar Burger or buy a 48-ounce bag of honey-mustard pretzels. Be out in less than 20 minutes.

3. The Carrier Dome! It's the site of incredible sports history, such as - um - Jim Boehein's missing 108 wins. He can eat a Dome Dog. Better: He can bless a Dome Dog. Better yet: Condemn one to hell.

4. Buffalo! Not the iconic, once-nearly extinct animal, but the "City of Wings and Weck." He can dine at the Anchor Bar and enjoy the hearty wisdom of the patrons. He can bless the Bills and maybe exorcise the spirit of Doug Marrone. He can hire Doug Marrone to build a Vatican football team, and expect to keep him for one year.

5. The Turning Stone Resort Casino Golf Resort Casino Resort! Right this minute, AS YOU ARE READING THIS, the tour bus for some eighties hair band, which you thought was dead, is driving there. Tonight, let's hope the defibrillators work. If the Pope is feelin' "hot blooded," he should "check it and see... He'll have a fever of a hundred and three."


6. The Incredible 24-Second Clock of Syracuse! (Warning: This will blow his mind and perhaps drive him from God... to technology.) Syracuse, as everyone knows, is the birthplace of the NBA's 24-second shot clock, the most important sports innovation since the TV remote. Watch the clock carefully, and you'll see that it counts down 24 seconds - AND THEN STARTS OVER AGAIN. Like clockwork. The Pope can parcel out to every pilgrim a full 24 seconds of blessings - NBA style - and keep things moving. Maybe he should install one at the Vatican.

7. Jim Boeheim!  Heal those 108 wins.

8. Destiny USA Super-Mall, Syracuse. Food court. Plus, it's the energy-efficient "green" mall (as proven by the tax breaks.) He can be saving the environment, while wasting away again in Margaritaville. (Sorry, Hooters is closed.) If his Pope-mobile is energy efficient, he'll get a good parking spot.

Wow. What am I missing? Come in, Utica - when is Moe playing next? Et tu, Binghamton? What's happening, Elmira? Do the billboards still celebrate Brian Williams?

The Tom Brady Hypocrisy Show is a hit in Boston

Isn't it fun, watching Boston fans twist themselves into pretzels, trying to defend Tom Brady with the, "It's not like he beat a woman; he was only trying to win a game!" argument?

Because they sure didn't buy that line with A-Rod, eh?

And they still go deaf, dumb and blind on the matter of Big Papi's steroidal past.

I guess fans are the same everywhere. But I like to think that, at least Yankee fans are aware of the fact that there is no morality to the team you root for. Many fans of the Mets, Redsocks, Cubs, etc.  piously suggest there is righteous component to why they support their team. What a crock.

It's time to launch the Rob Refsnyder countdown

Here's one way to spin last night's hideous, towering fiasco: The Yankees bundled 10 reasons to lose... into just one game. It was like buying in quantity.

Joe left Evaldi in too long. (Who wasn't stunned to see him start the eighth?) Our hitters scored quickly and then shut down. (The 2014 season in a nutshell.) Dellin threw wild pitches, which McCann didn't stop. We went knock-kneed with men on base. We ran ourselves out of an inning. We used the wrong fork on the salad. We didn't wear a condom. Even our mustaches looked penciled-in. You name it, we flubbed it.

And then there was Stephen Drew. (Those aren't 'Drew's you're hearing...) Actually, Drew had a regular outing: 0-4, two strikeouts and two runners left in scoring position. This drops his batting average to .184, which - amazingly - is only seven points below last year. At 32, he is seven years past his prime - 2008, when he hit 21 HR and batted .291 for Arizona. (George W. Bush was still president.) The Yankees gambled on him last spring, thinking 2014 was an aberration. Through seven weeks, it's the new Drew reality. And as Brian Roberts, the former "Mister Oriole," learned last summer - cruelly jettisoned within a few at-bats of a big bonus payout - there is no such thing as security for an overpaid experiment.

Yesterday, the Yankees announced that Drew is now taking grounders at 3B - the new backup for Chase Headley. That's a good idea, because a) Headley's back is flaring and b) A-Rod is proving too valuable a DH to risk playing third. Drew's final incarnation may be as a utility man. Frankly, he should start taking balls at 1B, too.

For better or worse, the Rob Refsnyder Era is nearing. It might be lumpy, but at least it will bring hope.

Refsnyder turned 24 at the end of March, when he looked horrible. In spring training, he booted balls and made it easy for the Yankees to ship him to Scranton. IF Jose Pirela was dazzling the brain trust - Reggie Jackson ridiculously called him the Yankees' best hitter - until the poor guy went bug-on-windshield against the CF wall. The Yankees had no choice but to go with Drew at 2B, which they probably intended to do all along.

Refsnyder went to Triple A and launched a clown show. In his first 10 games, he not only made 7 errors but failed to hit. On April 25, Ref was batting .193 (yup, Stephen Drew numbers, but at Triple A.) Ever since, he's been on fire. He's now up to .286, and he's gone 16 games without an error. No homers, three SB, and he is an on-base machine - something the Yankees, thanks to Ellsbury/Gardner, have learned to appreciate.  

A few more losses like last night, and something's gotta give. Drew and Pirela could serve as the team's all-purpose replacements - Drew for defense, Pirela for hitting. (Shades of Jayson Nix.) But Refsnyder is the future, and if Stephen Drew has any bonus clause in his Yankee contract, based on at-bats, he might be wise to waive it.

Peppy's autobiography rediscovered by world, Rolling Stone

Forty years down the road, the Joe Pepitone story is coming back. 

ESPN radio host in Seattle thinks The Master is celebrating death with his A-Bomb for A-Rod call

Well, now I've heard everything...

Shortly after Alex Rodriguez hit his (non-Yankee) milestone 660th home run, Seattle sports radio superstar Jim Moore took it upon himself to rip John Sterling.

"I think John Sterling might be the worst play-by-play guy I've ever heard," Moore said, last week. "And he thinks he's so good. And he's the New York Yankees play by play guy... And I think he's brutal."

Co-host Dave "The Groz" Grosby - a longtime Sterling fan - wondered what prompted Moore's sudden blurtation. It's the Master's home run call for A-Rod.

"An a-bomb kills you, okay? An atomic bomb kills people!... That's not cool."

Grosby asked if Moore has a problem when somebody says an outfielder "guns him down at second... That's not good?" he asked.

"John Sterling is an idiot," Moore replied, in one of those adorable I-don't-care-what-you-think-this-is-me-being-me snits that so characterize middle-aged radio personalities. "The guy should be at Single A, not calling for the New York Yankees... He's horrible, and I don't mind saying I'm horrible, all right?... But he's worse than me."

Well... where do you start?

Look, it's a free country, and Ronald Reagan signed a law that requires every AM radio station to hire at least a dozen fat, white male yahoos to always remind us of how unfair the world is for them. And let's not kid ourselves - Moore isn't the only hater out there on the subject of John Sterling. But there's one point I never quite get, and Moore goes to it a few times, when he mentions the fact that Sterling works for the Yankees.

It's that notion that every team in baseball deserves to have a homer announcer - except the Yankees. Nope. They should have an absolute machine calling play-by-play, without favoring either team. No... better yet... the Yankees should have someone who, like them, hates the Yankees. That's what they really want.

They hated Mel Allen. They hated Phil Rizzuto. They even hated Red Barber, until he left the Yankees, and then became everyone's NPR favorite. In many respects, John Sterling IS the Yankees. And some people will always hate him, simply for no other reason.

(You can hear for yourself the audio. You need to listen to a commercial, then fast-forward to 32:40 on the time bar, and you'll get to the Sterling segment.)  

By they way, if you are near Cooperstown this weekend, The Baseball Project is in town

Saturday night, at the Hall of Fame theater.

They put on a great performance in Cooperstown last year, when el Duque declared them the Bruce Springsteens of baseball music. And it's only $20, quite the bargain. So, you should go. Just sayin'.

"It's your worst nightmare. The Yankees are good. They're not going away, especially in what's shaping up to be a mediocre AL East. This isn't the year we get to bury the Yankees. This is a Stephen King novel come to life, and the Yankees are once again the bad guys ... only they're disguised as the good guys. That's right. I'm going to say it, and I rewrote this sentence 49 times because it's hard to admit: This team is likable, fun to watch and giving us a story much more interesting than an aging, broken-down team on its way to 85 or 90 losses."

The Voice of the Redsocks is not happy.

The Presidential Medal of Freedom for Yogi? Wait, you mean he doesn't have one of those already?

This is probably the only award that Yogi hasn't won.

Ask @BarackObama to give #Yankees American icon Yogi Berra the Presidential Medal of Freedom #YogiMedal:sign here http://t.co/MB8P0Z2z3p

— Yogi Berra Museum (@Yogi_Museum) May 11, 2015

Sign this, people. If the president won't give Yogi a medal, can we? The "It Is High" Medal of Freedom? Maybe it can look like the one Alphonse wears around his neck in the picture.

Happy Birthday, Yogi!

The greatest living Yankee icon is 90 today. 

Some past IT IS HIGH Yogi moments...

"My Fair Yogi:" Suggested titles for Broadway plays about the Yankees. (November 2012) 

Yogi vs. John in our poll for "Sexiest Yankee" (December 2011)

Surefire real estate ads for selling Yogi's house. (May 2014)

Ladies and gentlemen, Yogi Berra for White CLOVERLINE salve. (May 2012)

A brief history of bowling in Clifton NJ (Phil and Yogi's alley) (April 2015)

Dear NJ police: Your top 10 suspects who would steal Yogi's ring. (October 2014)

All-time Yankee nicknames that sound like someone vomiting. (December 2011)

Yogi's advice to NASCAR driver. (November 2009)

Ridiculous "pinball" ending to last night's game

Fly ball to left. Gardner camps under it. Then he waves his arms.

Wah happened?

Fortunately, Didi Gregorius - not exactly famous for heady play - comes to the rescue.

This is wah happens when you play in Tampa Bay.

(Forty-second video; you have to watch commercial.)

Another reason why this isn't last year: We have a new captain

His name is Brett Gardner, and - shhhh - nobody even knows.

Why this year isn't last year... (but it could still be 2013)

Last year, the Yankees fell out of first on May 22. Within days, their faces appeared on milk cartons. To this day, their whereabouts remain a mystery. It is believed that Derek Jeter escaped and is living with a woman and a talking horse. Nobody knows what happened to Preston Claiborne.

Aside from their uniforms and love for the injury attorneys, Celino and Barnes - (call 88888888!) - the '15 Yankees hardly resemble last year's collection. At this time last May, three story lines dominated the Yankiverse:

1) Jeter's impending retirement, the blob that eventually consumed the team.

2) The feel-good rise of Yangervis Solarte, which was starting to fray.

3) The emergence of Masahiro Tanaka, whose elbow was starting to fray.

In June, the entire team frayed. It went 11-16. By August, Yankee Stadium was a bone yard, waiting for the retirement ceremonies to begin.

One question today dominates every Yankee fan's sense of well-being:

Are we simply repeating 2014?

Happily, I can say the answer is NO.

This year, Joe Girardi is not hamstrung by a lineup that is, essentially, a farewell tour. No knock on Jeter, but looking back, it's hard to justify a .257 ground-ball machine situated between your two best hitters. Throughout 2014, Brett Gardner batted first, Jeter second, and Jacoby Ellsbury - a lead-off batter - hitting third. Basically, we had nobody who could hit third. In the end, it killed us.

This year, Gardner and Ellsbury set the table - with A-Rod, Tex and maybe even McCann to anchor the lineup. (Two games do not the "Avengers: Age of Beltran" make.)

This is not 2014. However...

(Oh, how I hate that word. And how I hate this following sentence:)

It is a long season.

We must remember 2013, when the Yankees looked invulnerable around now. We were red hot, ascending into first in mid-May... and the team actually led the AL East until May 25, later than last year's edition. Not only that, but we anticipated a wave of returning stars to boost us, if anyone faltered.

Why were we in first? Three reasons: Vernon Wells, Travis Hafner and Robbie Cano. They were crushing it in the middle of the order. Moreover, we awaited the return of Curtis Granderson, A-Rod, Tex, Youkilis, Cervelli (Chris Stewart was catcher) and even Jeter, who kept reporting progress from his ankle. The fill-ins were outdoing all expectations - Lyle Overbay and Jayson Nix were playing especially well. Mariano was closing, Andy was starting. Everything looked rosy.

And then came June:...11 wins and 16 losses.

Last night, the Yankees hit five home runs. This morning, we enjoy the best record in the AL. Chris Capuano is returning. Ivan Nova is healing. Beltran and Sabathia might be gathering momentum. At Scranton, Rob Refsnyder is hot, and he's gone 15 games now without an error. Everywhere, the Yankees are on fire.

Enjoy it, while it lasts. And whatever you're doing, juju-wise... don't let up. Somewhere, Preston Claiborne is looking for way home.

Greatest Times correction ever?

The secret name for R.A. Dickey's bat.

In This, The Ephemeral Part Of The Season, A Note From 'Ephemeral New York'

As we enjoy the Yankees' ephemeral first-place position before having our hopes dashed against the hard-edged rocks of reality, one of my favorite New York City blogs has a some nice photos and a write-up about the wind-swept home of our own Highlanders, recently of Baltimore at the time. (I hope this is allowed, Duque, it was such a nice little bit of history.)

When the Yankees were on top (of 168th Street)

Broadway and 168th Street, with its rocky terrain, isn’t exactly the best place for a baseball stadium.

Which partially explains why in 1903, New York’s newest baseball team, the appropriately named Highlanders, only played in a ball park at the site for the next 10 years.

Called American League Park and nicknamed Hilltop Park, it was hastily built in six weeks, just in time for the start of the spring season....

https://ephemeralnewyork.wordpress.com/2015/05/11/when-the-yankees-were-on-top-of-168th-street/

The John Lennon Yankee Song

Imagine there's no Beltran.
It's easy if you try.
No more infield pop-ups.
And no more rallies die.
Imagine all the outfield,
Under thirty-five...

Imagine there's no long-terms.
It isn't hard to do.
Nobody out on rehab,
And no Stephen Drew, too.
Imagine Yankee "prospects,"
Under thirty-five...

You-oo-o-o-o...
You may say I'm a Met fan,
Bartolo Colon, Granderson,
We know one day they'll rejoin us,
But only after they're completely done...

.
Imagine no Sabathia.
I wonder if you can.
No waiting for his comeback,
And no complaints among the fans.
Imagine all the people,
Cheering his career...

.
You-oo-o-o-o...

You may say I'm a moron,

But we only want to win...
We hope some young players join us,
And someday we'll raise a flag again.

"As the kids would say, Michael Pineda is on fleek right now."

Michael Kay, as today's kids would say, gets "cool." Dig it, daddy-o.

(Stolen from Reddit.)

Everything is all right... something must be wrong

Sunday, Tanaka was resting, Chris Capuano and Ivan Nova were healing, and even Carlos Beltran was HR-trotting around the bases. Brian Cashman was celebrating the 2012 trade of Jesus, Michael Pineda was gathering a Cy Young buzz, Brian McCann was beating the over-shift, and down in the Anthracite Capital of Pennsylvania, Slade Heathcott was tearing up the International League instead of his fragile knees.

Yankee Yewtopia.

Yep. It's the Spring Fling Thing. Folks, this is your team on drugs: sizzling, rolling, taking three out of four from Buck Showalter - Lord Baldemort, himself. All we need now is a few hits from Didi Gregorius, a middle-innings Garden Weasel for the bullpen, and a sixth - yes sixth! - starter. Hello-o-o, C.C. Sabathia, are your there?

We need time to speed up. We need the next two months on Fast-Forward, before anybody can adjust. Right now, Baltimore looks dead, Boston is performing human sacrifices, and the Rays - hah! - they just lost Drew Smyly, on top of Alex Cobb, which means they could soon be back to drafting Number One every year.

Now's the time to put a few laps between the Yankees and the fractured AL East. If we can - say - sweep Tampa, we could conceivably go into the weekend as the only above .500 team in the division... six games up on everybody.

Ah, but there we go - using that word again; "If."

It always conjures questions.

1. Is Beltran really back, or will his recent nice at-bats simply be tidbits of false hope, which keep the Yankees from benching him?

2. Do we have enough talent stockpiled at Scranton - or maybe even Trenton - to survive the waves of injuries that is sure to come?

3. Will we ever feel secure about Tanaka?

4. What happens when Ellsbury/Gardner and Betances/Miller cool off?

5. Will Boston keep shooting itself in the foot?

The Redsocks were pre-season favorites. Their pitching is horrible, but Mookie Betts remains a wild card... and when he heals, Rusney Castillo will be another. A month from now, they could be as hot as they currently are cold.

Last year, the Yankees were in first place as late as May 22. Do we dare believe?

John Sterling says the Yankees will give Carlos Beltran another month

Last year, when John Sterling unveiled his Carlos Beltran homer-hurrah, the Yankiverse went WTF? The Master cried, "UN CORREAZO!" which, Google-translated means... um... somerthing. I forgot. It no longer matters.

That's what happens when it's mid-May, and you haven't hit one HR.

(Note: John later added "BELTRAN BELTS ONE!," because these days, not only does every Yankee get a HR cry, but almost everyone gets two. This inflation devalues the product, much like the team's penchant for retiring numbers or installing plaques. When Brendan Ryan has a HR call, is there any reason to remember them?)

Yesterday, during Beltan's at bats, both Jeep-Driven John and Suzyn Celino-Barnes assured us that it's only a matter of time before Mt. Un Correazo gets hot. They said it so many times that it reminded me of the old line, "If you have to keep telling yourself something, it's probably not true." But at one point yesterday, John declared that the Yankees would give Beltran another month. Thirty days. The Master is growing weary.

As long as we sit in first, Beltran can swing a butter knife. We can laugh at yesterday's clunker. We didn't play A-Rod. We rested our bullpen. It was like lowering the Carrier Dome during a blizzard so the damn thing - ugly as a cancerous butt boil - doesn't pop open. But in the back of our minds, we wonder about Chris Young's resurgence. Last year, as a Met, he crapped the bed. Will he hit like this all season? Or is he an 0 for June, waiting to happen?

Keep in mind that last year, we were in first place as late as May 24.

Let's play a parlor game. Imagine that Beltran doesn't have two more years on a rancid contract. Imagine that the Yankees today bring up Slade Heathcott to play RF. He's 24, he's now hitting .330 at Scranton, he's fast, he's athletic, he's our former first round draft pick, and he's overcome enough adversity for two lifetimes. If he becomes a star, they can seal off not only his jersey but his juvee records. Imagine the excitment across the Yankiverse. Think of the hope. Imagine the buzz as we await Heathcott's HR call. Would NY be a Mets town?

Now, let's do cynicsm. Here goes: In the next month, Heathcott will tweak something, or break something - that's been his bugaboo - chasing some meaningless fly ball in Scranton. And over the next month, Beltran will belt one. And on June 10, while John and Suzyn debate what's wrong, one view will emerge: The Yankees will give him one more month...

Bah.

Bah.

A Dangerous Pattern

I have no complaints that the Yankees are winning.

But when the 5th inning began last night, and Adam Warren walked the lead-off hitter, I sensed trouble.

This dude just always breaks down after looking fabulous for the first four innings.  Maybe that is why he succeeded ( sort of....did any Yankee succeed last year when we didn't make the playoffs?) as a long-relief guy.

So I figured, here we go again into the maze of bullpen guys whose names I still can't remember
( everyone of them seems to be a Wilson or a Baker or something like that ).  It also seems that none of them are reliable.

And worse, it seemed obvious that the numerous below .200 hitters in our line-up were going to fail, and make certain that the Yankees would not score again.  We have all seen this before;  the Yankees score a few runs early, in a spurt or two, and then they are shut down.  Alex gets tired late; Jacoby has 4 hits already, and Brett 2.  McCann and Tex ( and Drew if in there ) bang into short right field ground outs, and the others in our line-up go phfsssst.  A myriad of 7 pitch innings while we bat. It becomes a given that the runs the Yankees have on the board will remain unchanged.

The next piece of this puzzle is the desperate appearances by Bettances and Miller.  Joe can smell what is happening, and they are his only shot for a win. Don't let Baltimore get a run or we lose.  Maybe not in 9 innings, but eventually. So they are again trotted out and, again, do their job.

This is dangerous in a 162 game season, and disastrous if we get further.  We need some players who can hit and score.  We need pitchers to go 7 innings.  We need someone amongst the non memorable names to perform.

Otherwise, we are kidding ourselves with this first place thing.

Did ESPN and the Boston courtiers spend the winter drinking Redsocks' Kool-Aid?

In this millennium, ESPN's broadcast booth has been a virtual Hebrew Home at Riverside - (I've been there; it's like a college campus!) - for homey and verbose ex-Redsock lug nuts.

Terry Francona (2012) practically switched seats with Bobby Valentine (2011), and then there was Nomar Garciaparra (2010-13) and now the eternally bloody-socked Curtis Montague Schilling. Let's not forget the original Gammonite himself, Peter, who never suited up for the Redsocks, so as not to blow his cover. And Pedro Martinez and Kevin Millar might at any time drunkenly breeze into the love-fest to announce some crisis, such as the last free bourbon about to be consumed in the press room.

Long ago, this MacArthur Foundation-level brain trust achieved a Borg-like hive mentality on two basic premises: 1) The Yankees would continue to crumble, and 2) the Redsocks would thrive. And hey, let's say it: That pretty much sums up the first 15 years of this rotten Millennium. Boston continually develops young players, while the Yankee farms produce methane.

All of which made it easy for the mind trust last winter to a) overlook the Redsock pitching staff, a collection of number three starters, at best, and b) assume that Boston's rookies would all become instant stars.

Before continuing, let's return to the ground: It's a long year. Nobody wins a pennant in May. Nor does anyone, not even Minnesota, get eliminated. There. That's said.

But the AL East looks as appealing as Buffalo in February. Last night, Boston lost its 6th game in 7 outings, and the O's are as unbalanced as the peace on their city's streets. We have two more games with Lord Baldemort's (Buck Showalter's) minions, and then four against the Alex Cobb-less Rays. If we could take 4 - go 3-1 against Buck, then 2-1 against Tampa, we'd a have a four-game bulge, which would mean... Exactly nothing. Dammot, it's too early to start running out the clock.

Except there is something going on. Big bad Boston - with Hanley Ramirez, the Panda and Big Papi - looks old, slow, fat and farty - a lot like the Yankees of the mid-2000s. It is a team of expensive stars who are always underachieving, a collection of super-egos whose legacy might be always coming close and never winning. They look like us, 10 years ago. Time will tell - and any glimpse of hope will be hailed by ESPN's church choir. But right now, Mike Napoli is Carlos Beltran with a beard, and their two aces are still named Lackey and Lester.

The wheels are wobbling. This week, the first dead canary - their newly fired pitching coach - turned up. Maybe they'll turn it around. Or maybe - just maybe - they weren't that good to begin with.

Tommy Lasorda will always hate the Phillie Phanatic for its disrespectful mockery of the game

Decades later, don't invite the two of them to the same cocktail party.

The Master would know better

Did Giants announcer Duane Kuiper say a no-no?

O, those lovable, madcap Redsock juicers!

Oy.

Some presidential candidate should sign Hal Steinbrenner as an advisor....

Face it: If a guy can make A-Rod into a sympathetic character, think of what he can do for Bernie Sanders!

For their new pitching coach, the Redsocks should go after the smartest man in the world

If Willie Mays is gracious about A-Rod passing his HR total, it might be because Willie knows what it's like to have been banned from baseball

In 1979, years after retiring, Willie became a part-time greeter at the Bally's Park Place casino in Atlantic City. (Maybe Nucky Thompson signed him). MLB Commissioner Bowie Kuhn, shrieking indignation, banned him from all baseball activities, including Cooperstown events and coaching for the Mets. Keep in mind that, as part of his contract with the casino, Willie was barred from betting in any of the casinos, and that - at the time - there was no organized sports gambling industry. His job basically meant playing in golf tournaments.

Mickey Mantle did the same, and he also received Bowie's pious boot. It ended Mickey's days as a Yankee hitting coach. He never really returned to the sport and resumed full-time drinking.

In 1984, both were reinstated by new MLB Commissioner Peter Ueberroth.

These days, you can go to a casino and play poker with Ozzie Smith.

We get accused of defending A-Rod more than he deserves, and maybe that's true. But no owner ever took a pitch in the ribs. The lords of the National Pastime have always been out of touch with the American public. It's what happens when unimaginable wealth is handed down from generation to generation.

A-Rod's 661st career A-bomb puts him one up on Willie Mays and 659 ahead of Harry Truman; other upcoming milestones

From now on, every A-Rod round-tripper is a moment for history.

Here's where we are:

661: A-Rod beats Willie Mays and ties the Battle of Posbury: In 661, King Cenwalh of Wexxex invaded Dumnonia (South West England), driving the scumbaggy Brits to the coast, where hopefully they learned to use soap. Suggested Yankee celebration for when A-Rod tops Posbury: Hal Steinbrenner appears in kilt and kinky boots, drinks entire quart of Scotch, barfs on map of England.

662: A-Rod reaches the Mian-Chowla Numeric Sequence. As everyone knows, number 662 is part of the Mian-Chowla numeric sequence, which begins with this famous formula.

Look at it. Holy crap, the damn thing practically spells A-Rod. Is that spooky or what? And what if A-1 - I MEAN A-ROD - never hits another HR? Would it be the Curse of the Mian-Chowla?(Or, say it fast: "Man-Child?") Suggested Yankee celebration: Mian-Chowla Night. The first 5,000 fans get slide-rules.

663: A-Rod times Babe times Brendan Ryan reach Sphenic Number. Another madcap, irrepressible thing with numbers. One way to put the sphenic number 663 is: 3 x 13 x 17 = 663. Get out your slide-rule from the other day. That's the Babe (Yankee No. 3) times A-Rod (No. 13) times Brendan Ryan (current No. 17, if he ever heals). Suggested Yankee celebration: Everyone gets a free Sphenic examination from Brendan Ryan.

664: A-Rod reaches the Country Calling Code for Montserrat. That's 664, in case you like odd facts. Suggested Yankee celebration: All fans receive one free phone call to Monserrat. I think Mick Jagger hangs there, so call and say hi. (Note: Local taxes, surcharges, data costs and roaming fees apply. Call cannot last longer than 30 seconds. See complete terms for more.)

665: A-Rod reaches wife of Muhammad.  I wanted to say "A-Rod beats wife... but I don't wanna start something. According to Wikipedia, Hafsa bint Umar - daughter of Umar ibn al-Khattab and Zaynab bint Mazoon - was the wife of the Islamic prophet Muhammad. Who knew? The famed "Mother of Believers" died in 665. Suggested Yankee celebration: Scoreboard congratulates Allah.

666: A-Rod embraces Satan. We covered this in another post. This is the big one. Alex won't hit any more HRs, because fiery demons will drop from the skies, begetting the apocalypse, ending the world - and the baseball season. Yankee celebration: Quickly hoist pennant flag, call it World Championship Number 28 and get the hell to Iceland. Even when the world ends, nobody in Iceland will give a damn.

The universal language of pain

A Korean umpire speaks to men everywhere.

Questionable excerpts from Tom Brady's emails

"It was just too hard. I can't handle it when it's that hard."

"Last night, your balls were absolutely perfect. I love the feel. Again... tonight?"

"Once you push the needle in, you'll feel all that tension, all the resistance, slacken. It's almost instantaneous. Everything changes."

"On each snap, when it comes into my hands, I want it to feel like an overripe melon."

"Your skin is just so soft and tender. It makes me want to look for a receiver."

Fat Guys Who Have It All Over CC Sabathia

First things to do after we take over Texas, mwah-hahahahaha....

1. Free the 880,000 hostages in Austin.

2. Deprogram the super-powered, anti-human, world-threatening robot known as "Jerry Jones."

3. Forget the oil fields; secure the BBQ joints.

4. Re-install Rick Perry as governor. (He never suspects a thing.)

5. Buy Josh Hamilton a case of beer.

6. Reveal the painful truth: Pro wrestling is scripted.

7. Install Sharia Law, force women to dress like Quonset huts, and require daily prayers in mosques.

8. Make it illegal for men to drive trucks, chew tobacco and scratch their balls.

9. Steal all the cowboy hats, robbing them of their super powers.

10. Let them secede.

In Toronto, the Yankees were reunited with Russell Martin, aka Hal Steinbrenner's original sin

In the winter of 2012, Hal Steinbrenner - aka "Penny Dreadful" - unveiled a strict plan for Yankee austerity. The owner was determined to cut the payroll to $187 million and escape MLB's heavy luxury taxes. That meant signing no free agents for more than one year.

Specifically, it meant watching our catcher, Russell Martin, go to Pittsburgh for a measly $6.5 million per year, over two.

Let's forget that a) Hal quickly scrapped his 2-year moratorium to sign the wispy ghost of Ichiro Suzuki, and b) In quest of a Wild Card slot, Hal scrapped his $187 million plan altogether. (Remember Alfonso Soriano, Mark Reynolds, Brendan Ryan, et al.?)

The team floundered at catcher throughout 2013 - (Remember Chris Stewart?). The following winter Hal bestowed $95 million on Brian McCann over five years. The Yankees expect McCann's knees to hold up through age 34. He earns $17 million a year.

Save a dime, waste a dollar:...

Of course, it's all OK today, right? Because for now - May 7 - we're in first place, right? Nothing else matters, right? Fingers crossed.

But last night, Russell Martin continued his personal campaign to show Owner Hal what he could have had. Over three games in Toronto, he hit two home runs, and it was Martin's single that turned game one. He is a great defensive catcher. He was credited with settling the Pirates pitching staff, and Toronto this winter inked him to a five year, $82 million deal.

In another Yankee universe - a smarter one than this - Hal signs Russell Martin three years ago for what basically constitutes peanuts. Instead of Chris Stewart, Frankie Cervelli and Austin Romine, the Yankees had Martin behind the plate. It might have been enough of a bump to make the final Wild Card slot. Mariano Rivera might have gotten a final post-season. Who knows? Then in 2014, the Yankees didn't sign Brian McCann and spent their money elsewhere - maybe a pitcher? Who knows?

Nothing against McCann. He's a grinder. But last year, Martin hit .290, and last night, he hit his 6th home run. McCann - facing over-shifts that threaten to permanently limit his production - hit a woeful .232 last year. He has 2 HRs this year.

Ahh, fukkit. It does not good to think about what could've been. The question is, did Hal learn anything? He's still talking about austerity. But he wouldn't spend $6 million on Martin, so they lavished $95 million on McCann. Recently, they let the Redsocks sign Cuban infielder Yoan Moncada, because they wouldn't go an extra $6 million. Will they spend the next decade lavishing contracts on the Brian Roberts and Stephen Drews? Who knows?

NME Review Praise For Sheer Mag

Well done.  (bottom right of page).

Refsnyder up for Minor League Fielding Play of the Week

Rob Refsnyder got off to a terrible start at Scranton - no field, no hit - but he's picked it up lately. No errors lately, batting average climbing. Plus, this gem - a hump-back liner he caught behind second base. I enhanced the ball, otherwise you couldn't see it. Quite a play. See it here, if you're willing to sit through a commercial.

Don't tell Sarah Palin, but the Dodgers have gone over to Satan

Claimed to be the first gay action on the Kiss Cam. 
Stolen from Reddit.

Speaking of Kyle Farnswoth... he finally found his sport

Considering his control issues, would you want to be trying to block this guy?

Farnsworth leads his team in tackles and has now been selected to play in the prestigious Florida Football Alliance All-Star Game.

And he's only 39.

Quick! Somebody call Giants Coach-for-Life Coughlin!

And don't forget: He was our first IT IS HIGH Yankeeography. 

Joe Girardi is searching for his own personal Scott Proctor, and let's hope it's not Dellin Betances

Back in the day, they called it "the Bridge to Mariano," that police lineup of bullpen pugs that was constantly being trotted out by Joe Torre to throw the 7th and 8th innings - a tortuous eternity that connected Yankee starters to their closer. We could be ahead by five runs, but you dreaded what was coming.

For about five years, Torre tried everyone but Rudy Giuliani in that desperate role. He used Paul Quantrill, until the guy wilted. He used Flash Gordon and Tanyon Sturtze, until they melted down. Kyle Farnsworth went knock-kneed before he could collapse. If there is an Yankee Eighth Inning afterlife, surely Colter Bean is mowing the lawn.

But Torre's personal pan pizza of pain was the peerless, rubber-armed Scott Proctor. In 2003, the Yankees snagged Proctor and CF Bubba Crosby from the Dodgers for Robin Ventura. Proctor became Torre's go-to bullpen roll of duct tape. In 2006, he logged 102 innings. That's a crapload of work. The following year, he threw another 86. (Last year, innings-eater Adam Warren threw 78.) Proctor lasted three years on the Yankee treadmill, until he was throwing meatballs. One night, after a shellacking, he doused his jersey with lighter fluid and torched it at home plate - (no lie, he believed it exorcised the unlucky demons.) The juju was too late. Days later, Proctor was dealt back to LA for Wilson Betemit... who later was traded for Nick Swisher... who misplayed the liner in the playoffs... that extended the game... that cost Derek Jeter his broken ankle... and whenever Didi Gregorious throws to the wrong base, we still feel Proctor's luck, do we not?

But that's not why I'm thinking of Proctor today. The reason: Last year Dellin Betances, our best player, threw 90 innings out of the bullpen. Already this season, he's thrown 15. (That would put him at around 90 again, give or take.) That's a Proctorian load. Mariano Rivera in 1996, his first real year, threw 107 innings. After that, as closer, Mo only once threw more than 80, and usually kept his total in the low 70s.

Right now, the Yankee 8th inning bullpen bridge is a disaster. No lead is safe. We nearly pissed away leads of 8 and 6 runs, and Monday, we lost a game because we couldn't get four measly outs. Girardi can go to his binder or call up the Walking Dead from Scranton. But if nobody steps up, the ghost of Scott Proctor will haunt this team in July and August.

Dellin Betances could be a future great Yankee. He could someday have a plaque in center field. (Which isn't what it once was, eh?) We must get him to a place where he isn't throwing 90 innings per year. Otherwise, we might see him one day burning his hat at home plate... setting into motion another long range progression of bad luck.

An Inconvenient Truth

You'd never know it from listening to the corporate shills, but our bullpen is at best mediocre outside of Betances and Miller. All those "power arms" we stocked up with have been meh to worse.

Betances and Miller have pitched 28.3 innings (I don't know if this includes tonight's Miller appearance), allowed 0 earned runs, and have an ERA of 0.00. Fantastic.

Everyone else has pitched 62.6 innings, given up 22 earned runs, and have an ERA of 3.19 (don't know if Carpenter's debacle tonight is included). Not terrible, but if you take Betances and Miller away, one of the best bullpens in baseball drops to 13 out of 30. Middle of the pack, nothing special, not particularly fearsome or sharp.

Yes, that lets other teams keep the stats of their closer and 8th inning guy (if they have one) to improve their standing. So this isn't entirely fair.

But it's fair enough to show that we have a two-man bullpen and a bunch of also-ran inning eaters. Sunday's game, last night's game and today's game showed just how also-ran they are. We might be lucky we ended up 2-1 in those three, all things considered.

However, we will continue to hear that the Yankees bullpen has been stellar, with a 1.86 ERA. (Al Leiter just said so. Oh, Al.) Even though that number implies that the entire bullpen is that good.

Stating the obvious, I know, but it ain't.

When you think of ex-Yankee geezers griping, be thankful that we never had Lenny Dykstra and Mitch Williams

No matter what Tino thinks of A-Rod, it'll never be like this...

"It's an A-Bomb... from the Antichrist!" Proposed Yankee marketing strategies to exploit A-Rod's 666th home run

1. Beezelbub Bobblehead Night.

2. Michael Kay's call: "PIT... FURNACE... HELL... SEE YA!"

3. First 5,000 fans in attendance get to sell souls for Yankee win.

4. Team hailed as rightful keeper of "Evil Empire" copyright.

5. In post-game Clubhouse Report, Suzyn interviews Adolph Hitler.

6. Those aren't boos; they're fans, chanting "LOOOOO-cifer."

7. On Jumbotron scoreboard, George Steinbrenner transmits from Hell.

8. "... This is the Yankee Radio Network, driven by Beast..."

For God's sake, help me here, I gotta be missing some good ones...

Cobb = Tanaka? The Rays' chances in 2015 just took a huge hit

They're now saying it's a partial tear - exactly what Tanaka faced last year. It will be interesting to see if Tampa waits on him (as we did with Tanaka) or sends him to Dr. Andrews.

Either way, they just lost one of their best starters. Big setback.

Barring an act of God, A-Rod soon will tie Satan - 666 - on the all-time HR list

The neatest part of that long legal battle between Alex Rodriguez and MLB was the group of "protesters" who gathered each day outside the Clown Court, waving home made signs. A few said - wonderfully - "RANDY LEVINE IS THE DEVIL." I shall always cherish that memory.


But soon, A-Rod again will lock horns with Old Scratch. He's at 660 HRs, and sometime before June 13 - no, it's not a Friday - he should replace Bub on the cosmic MLB home run list. That's our next milestone, folks. Maybe Randy Levine should pay him a $6 million bonus? Or at least give him some hair products.

(Thanks to BJP Burnside for the headzup.)

Can't win 'em all, but should'a won that one.

It's a rich fan's problem - first place, two games up, only three losses in 10 games - but dammit, Muffy! last night's imported Tunisian caviar was just too salty! And one of our servants simply cannot properly pour champagne. Our Chief of Cutlery and Castration - Mr. Girardi - should consider dismissing the man. I wrote down his name. Garrett. Garrett Somethingorother...

OK, so much for the delightful, devil-may-care opening...

We lost last night in an awful eighth, and today's Gammonitic write-ups most blame the bullpen, but that's like blaming measles on the rash. Chris "Cold Play" Martin gave up a single through the over-shift. (Unlike our great sub-.200 sluggers, Jose Batista shortened his swing and accepted the gift of a clutch hit.) Betances gave up a high pop that dropped in, and then a grounder that Headley heroically snared - only to have everything fall apart with Garrett Jones muffed the throw.

It killed us. Headley made a great play - (wherever he is, Graig Nettles smiled) - and threw a Davey Concepcion bouncer from short left field. On natural grass, it's a throwing error. On turf, the first baseman should have it. Jones didn't. And we lost.

OK, what's done is done. We can't throw a hissy fit every time somebody drops a lamb chop. But Garrett Jones looks increasingly irrelevant on this team. He has shown he cannot play the OF, and now his defense at 1B looks equally suspect. He's hitting below .200. Worst of all, there are few scenarios where he can pinch hit, because he'd only replace middle infielders, and frankly, we have no subs for them. It's stems and seeds.

When the Yankees obtained Jones from Atlanta, I ventured onto a Braves fan forum. The writers said the guy can hit, but they were guffawing over any notion that he can field. Now we know. He's a full-time DH - our third, after Beltran and A-Rod.

Don't know where this goes, but if Jose Pirela keeps hitting at the Scranton Rehabilitation Center, Pirela becomes a far more useful piece. And if the season ends with us one game out, drop last night in the memory bin, filed under "When the Caviar Began to Stink."

You Be The Manager

You have a fine young pitcher on the mound, throwing a shutout after seven. Your team has scratched out one run against a knuckleballer who is throwing dancing angels and has allowed only three hits.

You're concerned that your youngster is tiring, and you want him to leave this game with maximum confidence for future starts. In the bullpen, you have perhaps the deadliest 8th and 9th inning combo in baseball.

What do you do?

Right. Bring in Chris Martin, lose the game, and leave your young starter feeling pissed off and frustrated.

You are now qualified to manage the 2015 New York Yankees. Congratulations!

Jeff Karsten hangs them up

Ex-Yankee pitching lugnut Jeff Karsten is done. He's retiring. Don't stop the presses. Guy hasn't pitched in two years. He's just 32, though. The good die young.

Karsten went to Pittsburgh in the 2008 Cashman Coup, which brought us the china doll, Xavier Nady, and LH Damaso Marte. Neither could salvage the awful 2008 season, (which closed Yankee Stadium and officially ended with Robbie Cano refused to dive for a ground ball. Seattle still owes him $192 million.) But Marte pitched lights out in the 2009 post-season.

Who won the trade? Hard to say. The key cog was Jose Tabata, who at the time was being hailed as the future Yankee version of Manny Ramirez. Oh well. He currently has a lifetime .275 average with no power and no stolen bases. He's only 26, generally the age of our prospects at Scranton. And if I remember correctly, Tabata married a woman about twice his age. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

We also gave up Daniel McCutchen - bullpen fodder - and Ross Ohlendorf, who won 11 games for the rancid Pirates in 2009 (and could have helped us.)  But it was Karstens - the guy without the press clippings - who chugged along and did the most. He won 9 games for lowly Pittsburgh  in 2011 with an ERA of 3.38. We definitely could have used him.

Karstens was like David Phelps and/or Adam Warren: He didn't have the Phil Hughes' build-up or Joba's YES publicists. But he had a damn good career.  I wish we could have traded somebody else and kept him instead.

James Taylor writes song about Yanks-Redsock rivalry... mistakenly inserts Angels into the mix

Angels of Fenway
Hear our prayer,
We have been chastened,
We have been patient.

Let's face it: Those years with Carly Simon took a toll.

On top of being sore losers, the Redsock Nation is called out for its pettiness

... So there it was, a moment in which A-Rod had equalled the career home run output of a man widely believed to be the greatest all-around player in the game’s history, yet the Red Sox did nothing to acknowledge the achievement. No announcement, no message on the center field flat screen. Nothing.

You could argue that everyone in the park knew what had happened, given the amount of publicity A-Rod had been getting as he closed in on Mays. But that’s not the point. The Red Sox routinely reference the in-game achievements of opposing players, and in that spirit they owed it to A-Rod to do something.

By not doing so it makes it look like the Red Sox are complicit with the Yankees in sticking it to Rodriguez.

Good times always seem so good (so good, so good, so good...) But this could be Yogi-vu, all over again

Maybe we're too negative. Maybe we should brighten up, chug the Kool-Aid, leap upon the mustache bandwagon (13-3 since Gardner started his) and savor the fact that we just undressed mighty Boston at Fenway for the first time since George W. Bush was declaring victory in Iraq.

We silenced them with A-Rod's 660th, pummeled their Cy Young candidate Joe Kelly and left their bullpen hatchet men throwing bean balls... the kind of weekend that could have driven James Taylor back to Carly Simon. Nothing should steal from our thunder. We should turn in our obnoxious Yankee fan membership cards, if we cannot smell the flowers - and the sense of Boston's desperation - of May.

And yet...

I'm going to do something rotten here. Please, for your family's sake, send small children from the room. If you are on heart medication, leave this site. If you are bi-polar or have exhibited suicidal tendencies (talking to you, Alphonso), go no further. Move on. There's nothing to see.

Here are the standings from one year ago, May 3, 2014. Read it and weep.

Dear God, by the hoary hosts of Headley, we were in first. Boston was a game under .500. We may be stuck in a time-space continuum, being forced to relive the Alfonso Soriano retirement tour.

And yet... this is NOT 2014. Things HAVE changed... I think.

If this weekend teaches us anything, it is that big bad Boston might just be headed for another ugly summer. Hanley Ramirez sure whines like Manny Ramirez, but he doesn't hit like him. Pablo Sandoval may look like Big Poppy, but he's not going to smack 30 HRs. They have no Curt Schilling. They have bean ball throwers, but no Pedro. Their team revolves around the idea that Mookie Betts is a superstar... and not Jackie Bradley III.

Insert sigh here.

It's a long, long, long, long season. We've been here before. (For whatever it's worth, on May 3, 2013, the Yankees stood at 17-11, two and a half games behind the red-hot Redsocks.) Last night, ESPN booth babbler Curt Schilling - in a brief daze of lucidity - noted that the Yankees lineup hasn't suffered any major injuries... yet. He was, of course, chirping like the Redsock fan he is. But he's right.

Enjoy this while it lasts, folks. And don't look back.

Evil Empire Prevails

Things People Are Saying Now That They Won't Be Saying In September

"These guys just keep finding a way to win."

"CC is looking like his old self again."

"Guess the Mets were really wrong about Young."

"Drew isn't washed up yet!"

"I don't care if Tex hits .150 with all those home runs."

"This is a lot closer to the McCann we expected when we signed him."

"Tenaka will only be out a few weeks."

"Ellsbury looks healthy."

"Looks like Cashman knew what he was doing."

After 10 years as a Yankee, did A-Rod Friday night finally win over the fans?

Recently, somebody asked Alex Rodriguez what's it like to hear boos whenever he steps out of a dugout. He said it's nothing new: He's been booed his entire career.

He was booed for leaving Seattle. He was booed for costing Texas too much. He was booed for being a Yankee. He was booed for slumping in the playoffs. He was booed for not being Derek Jeter. He was booed for opting out of his Yankee contract, then booed for re-signing. He was booed for failing a steroid test. He was booed for lying. He was booed for being banned, then booed for coming back. He was booed for letting Cameron Diaz stuff popcorn in his mouth at the Super Bowl. He was booed for preening in a mirror. He's now booed for costing the beloved Hal "I'm Not Cheap" Steinbrenner so much of the heir-owner's hard-earned money. He's been booed by everyone who knows how to cup their hands to their mouths and make a hooting sound. When it's over, A-Rod might be remembered as the most booed sports figure in American history.

Keep in mind, he's accomplished this without ever hitting a woman or beating a child. He ran no dog-fighting ring, or slashed up a double homicide. Not even a DWI-gun chase. Nope. Next fall, some lucky fan base will cheer Ray Rice and Adrian Peterson after a few touchdowns, and all will be forgiven. But never for A-Rod. He'll never get into Cooperstown, never hit the record books without an asterisk, never return for old-timers day, never talk for ESPN or endorse a pair of sneakers. 

But Friday, Alex did something that was downright Jeterian. He laid upon the Yankiverse a pile of reasons to NOT be booed. His home run: 1) Was dramatic, 2) Won the game, 3) Was his first-ever pinch-hit HR, 4) Beat Boston, 5) Silenced the Fenway crowd, 6) Tied him with Willie Mays, 7) Came during a slump, 8) Breathed life into the team, 9) Shows how seedy Hal Steinbrenner has become.

The more that the likes of Bill Madden, Mike Lupica, et al, scream Alex Rodriguez, the more I find myself rooting for the guy. The more the Yankees want to wheedle him, or fine-print him, or pit him against their fans, the more I want to see him hit.

Love him or hate him, A-Rod right now is the only Yankee batter who is always worth watching.

He will always hear the boos. But damn it, Friday night, he gave us a reason to hope. And maybe he even finally won over a few Yankee fans.

The Times' Tyler Kepner Politely Tells Gammonites To Go Fuck Themselves

"Fenway Park sits on Yawkey Way, so named for Thomas Yawkey, the Hall of Famer who owned the Red Sox from 1933 to 1976. Yawkey did a lot of good things, but he also presided over the last major league team to integrate — and he refused to add Mays to his roster.

"Mays was 17 in 1949 and playing for the Birmingham Black Barons. The scout George Digby, who would later sign Wade Boggs for the Red Sox, recommended that the team sign Mays, 

"Digby, who died last year, told the story to the writer Gordon Edes in 2005...“Cronin sent another scout down to look at him, but Yawkey and Cronin already had made up their minds they weren’t going to take any black players.” 

"Which is worse: taking illegal drugs to play better, or trying to hold back an entire race of people from playing in the major leagues? If you think steroids mutated the record books, what about the impact of the racial barrier that Yawkey and other Hall of Fame executives never had the courage to break down?"

And can we please throw that racist prick Ty Cobb out of the Hall now? 

"You can't see him right now, but he's very, very emotional..." Boston dies, Suzyn sighs, A-Rod cries

After A-Rod's bland, dismal post-game interview with the franchise flunkies from YES, he spots Suzyn, waiting her turn, and they embrace.

She doesn't hide her emotions. She asks a routine question about the pinch hit home run, and he gives a routine answer about the game, his teammates, and Joe Girardi's wisdom.

Then Suzyn asks about what is going on in the mind and heart of Alex Rodriguez... and he loses it.

"Alex Rodriguez... Allelujah!"

Hear all the calls.

(Thanx, Manx)

PAY HIM THE MONEY, HAL

"But He Cheated!!"

Yeah, fuck off. 660 and the Mick's uppers in yo' face.

List of acceptable crimes by this year's class of NFL draftees

Last year, the Gentleman Giants drafted a bunch of well-mannered choir boys.. college football team captains, Cub Scouts, teachers' pets and adorably photogenic "Up With People" young Republicans. As a result, the team sucked.

To succeed in the NFL today, you need to field a lineup of violent, hardened criminals, the kind of repeat offenders who would eat you, rather than miss lunch. Considering that Jameis Winston - an alleged rapist - was picked first last night, obviously, some crimes are OK.

List of Crimes That Are Not Tolerated by NFL

1. Spousal or dog abuse
2. Multiple homicide
3. Possession of meth (ruins teeth)
4. Anything that is videotaped

List of Crimes that Are Condoned, if not Appreciated, by NFL

1. Bank robbery (preferably done with fists)
2. Anything that is not captured on videotape
3. Possession of medieval weaponry
4. Beating of anti-war hippies

Has A-Rod finally met the Babadook?

Let the record show that Alexander Emmanuel Rodriguez outlasted Bud Selig, George Steinbrenner, Curt Schilling, Willie Mays and even Derek Jeter. He's still out there - hands down, the greatest ballplayer of his generation - bating third for all to see. And someday - maybe decades from now, after the indignation and anger has settled down - A-Rod will be defined, if not appreciated, as a great player, rather than a lying, self-centered buffoon. He took all their bullets, all their arrows... and he survived.

MLB's army of lawyers couldn't take him down. The tag team of Brute Bernard and Skull Murphy - alias Luipica and Madden - couldn't pull him under. Not even Hal Steinbrenner and his castle of flying monkeys could make him surrender. Somehow, A-Rod played on. Good grief, he might yet outlast Didi Gregorius!

But now comes the ultimate dragon, the one that no knight ever defeats.

It's one thing to return from adversity and a home run. In Hollywood, that's where the movie ends. A-Rod touches home plate, gets mobbed, and the credits roll. But in life, there is tomorrow's game, and then the game after that. In early April, A-Rod wowed his critics and proved again that he was once a great player, regardless of what super-soldier elixirs he ingested. But last week, he looked like a geezer pushing 40, who would sell his soul for a bloop single. A long slog of a season looms. A-Rod needs only look out to Carlos Beltran in RF to see what he might soon become. And he better not hope that Beltran is protecting him in the order.

In the end, they all crumble. King Kong may swat down a plane, but he always plunges to his death. Old Yeller always gets shot, and Free Willy always turns up in some Eskimo's lamp. For A-Rod, the end will be ugly - a loud chorus of boos, probably even from the Yankee side. It won't be fun. It won't be pretty. But it cannot be averted.

Of course, this might merely be a spring slump, a market correction. But A-Rod, at .240, may be finally meeting the boogeyman. Tonight in Fenway, he'll hear the future.

"Respect was the word my parents and their generation preached most often. Respect for your elders. I only wish I had recalled their voices on Oct. 11, 2003. When 72-year-old Don Zimmer came barreling toward me, I wish I had not grabbed his head and pushed him to the Fenway grass as he stumbled and fell forward. Some days I feel more people remember me as the angry young man who pushed down a defenseless old man than as the pitcher who won three Cy Young Awards and a world title and wound up in the Hall of Fame. In my entire baseball career, my reaction to Zimmer’s charge is my only regret."

Another set of bean balls from Pedro, excerpted in Sports Illustrated.