FLAME (I mean) GAME ON !!!

 He's "Convicted"

Genius at Work!

Think you're smart enough to work for the New York Yankees' Crack Analystics Department (CAD)? Take this simple quiz and find out!

Pitcher A—let's call him Clarke Schmidt—has the following splits on his 2024 regular-season record:

Home:  8 starts, 2-2 record, 4.50 ERA

Away:   8 starts, 3-3 record, 1.39 ERA

Clarke Schmidt should start:

A) At home

B) On the road

C) Wherever the genius, Brian Cashman, thinks he should start

If you chose "C," you were correct!

Let's try another one.

Pitcher B—let's call him Carlos Rodón—has the following splits on his 2024 regular-season record:

Home:  14 starts, 9-2 record, 3.11 ERA

Away:   18 starts, 7-7 record, 4.69 ERA

Carlos Rodón should start:

A) At home

B) On the road

C) Wherever the genius, Brian Cashman, thinks he should start

Oh, I'm sorry! It was a trick question. Carlos Rodón should never start again anywhere, ever!

Thanks for playing, and we'll see you back here in a few weeks with a new analytics quiz, when we ask:

The New York Yankees should sign:

A) Juan Soto

B) Pete Alonso

C) Whoever costs Hal Steinbrenner the least money from his incalculable fortune.

Thanks for playing!

 

You probably all know this, but....

 The Dodgers' owner plans to add Juan Soto next season. 

Just saying. 

Hoss Talks About "The New York Game"

This past weekend and next weekend, Bardball.com is/will be interviewing IIH,IIF,II...c'er Kevin Baker about his fascinating new book, The New York Game: Baseball and the Rise of a New City.  The book delves into how in the mists of the Civil War and the Industrial Age, Gotham created the game we know today and shaped it through the 20th century.

Some of the things I learned in our very short discussion:

• Charles Ebbets' middle name was Hercules.
• The creation of the Abner Doubleday/Cooperstown myth by AG Spaulding was meant in part to separate the game from its origins in the city, a place of ethnic diversity, social mobility and Catholics.
• Doubleday was chosen by Spaulding because they were both Theosophists.
• The Brooklyn Dodgers were once called, among other things, the Bridegrooms.
• The Dodgers were named the Trolley Dodgers fully 15 years before there was even a subway.

Next week Kevin and I will talk about the iconic rivalry between the Yankees and the Dodgers, the personalities involved, and its sociopolitical importance. And also, that despicable Waler O'Malley.

You can read our interview, fully displaying Hoss' wit and erudition, at Bardball.com here:

http://bardball.com/2024/10/27/the-new-york-game-baseball-and-the-rise-of-a-new-city/

I also posted it in the Bardball Substack, which I think everyone should be able to read here:

https://bardball.substack.com/p/the-new-york-game 

Hoss' book is now available from Penguin Random House. Order it at your local bookstore or from Amazon! I am eagerly waiting for my copy.

Tonight, the madness and pandemonium of New York must rain down upon mellow LA

There comes a moment in every fan's life when he or she - (or they) - must go Timmy-in-the-well, Lassie-barking mad, and charge wide-eyed directly into the jaws of Hell. 

Tonight is that time. 

Tonight, the Dodgers' team of Chippendale robots needs to encounter a life-changing, cultural pipe wrench of pure demonic chaos - a horrific hurricane of sounds, sights, tremors and terrors, unlike anything they ever experienced against the Mets. 

It must begin before the first pitch is thrown, and from there, it must become alive and bio-electric, a sentient being created from the agony of a billion fans after 15 years of squandered hopes. 

Tonight, every moment must be the one after Nettles stabbed the liner, after Reggie jacked his third, after Leyritz bombed Atlanta, after Boggs donned the horse, after Yogi charged Larsen, after Mantle put down Barney Schultz. 

Yes, those events happened in another stadium, one we stupidly tore down and gaslight ourselves to this day, pretending otherwise. But tonight, it doesn't matter. 

Tonight, the Yankees must create a new reality, a new mass hysteria, in this relatively unsoiled ballpark.

The Yankees must call upon the full, grotesque pandemonium of NYC: Pizza Rat, Times Square Elmo, the squeegy-men, and the ghost of Gerald Ford saying "Drop Dead." Tonight, the Yankees must channel the everything bagel of Gotham. 

We all know the reality: 

The Yankees either win tonight, or it's over. 

Lose tonight, and they'll fall in four, swept by a superior team whose billionaire owner wasn't afraid of spending the money he's too rich to ever miss. 

The Yankees need a game from Clarke Schmidt, the vastly underpaid starting pitcher who has only played for one organization in his pro career. Same with Anthony Volpe, another home grown Yankee. And the Captain, whose fantastical legacy is now teetering. 

Tonight, the Yankee Stadium crowd needs to act like a Yankee Stadium crowd. 

It's up to you, New York, New York.

Yanks tie record!

 

Here on the Mr. Bill Show, there is good news!

Last night, your New York Yankees tied a major-league record: it was their 11th straight game of their playoffs decided by 3 or fewer runs. Only the Philadelphia Phillies, in winning the World Series in 1980, have managed this, winning an insanely entertaining series against the Astros, then topping the Royals.

Hey, lots of narrow losses!  We're getting close!

Another, more damning stat, gleaned from the Estimable Keefe: the Yankees have not beaten a team that is not from the woeful AL Central since our white-knuckle, skin-of-our-teeth victory over the Baltimore Orioles, in the 2012 ALDS.

A weird sort of stat from me: the Yanks have now lost a franchise-record, 8 consecutive games in their last playoff series of a season.

That is, in this World Series they've lost 2 straight. In 2022—their last playoff appearance—they lost 4 straight to Houston. In 2021 they lost their single, Wild Card game to Boston, and in the 2020 they lost the last game of their Covid ALDS to Tampa Bay.  

8 straight losses in their last round.

They have become baseball's greatest living example of the Peter Principle. 

 

 

Yanks encountering Judge dread, but but BUT... this aint ova. The Dodgers came to NYC last week, but they aint seen nothing like what's to come.

Welp, here we are, back to where it began. We're those kids in The Blair Witch Project, when they discover they've been hiking circles in the forest and won't escape this movie alive. We have reached the Babadook, that manic curse of runaway nerves that has consumed Yankee lineups for 15 years. We are lost in the haunted woods of October.

Since April - our best start in this generation - we've awaited (and dreaded) this moment, the world series, wondering how we'd do when everything mattered. Now, here we are, wondering if we'd have been better off not getting here, not embarrassing ourselves on a national stage.

Monday night, Aaron Judge will hear chants of "MVP! MVP!" as the throngs seek to re-set his tilting statue. But if he keeps lunging at pitches - and he might - the cheers will lessen, settle into a din, and then, at the torturous end, maybe bring scattered boos that Juan Soto will surely notice. 

We've seen it happen. We've seen postseasons so horrific, so poisonous, that they not only cost us the current October, but they roll over into next year, and further. 

When we see Judge trudge back to the dugout, we see the ghosts of A-Rod, Grandyman and Swish. When we see Clay Holmes walk the leadoff batter, we see Aroldis, Flash Gordon and Tanyon Sturtze. We see Octobers so dreadful that they will accompany us to our graves. We see a haunted past, which turned on us in 2004, and which remains un-exorcized.   

Those are the stakes, my friends. If we lose two more games, not only will 2024 be a disappointment, but it could set up a future crossroads for Yankee decline. We can cheer Giancarlo Stanton's revival, but how does a legless, 35-year-old fulltime DH fit into 2025? That's another matter. Two more losses, and a massive roster upheaval will begin with a sour taste on our tongues.

But but BUT... (as stated above)... This. Aint. Ova. No, it isn't. We can still win this thing.

How can I say this? Why am I shilling for Cashman and Boone? Did they get to me? Have they kidnapped a loved one? Am I on some exotic drug, or am I wearing a shock collar? No. Hear me out. This. Aint. Ova. Why?

1. Judge will hit. Eventually. We all know this. If we win Monday, it means an extra game for him to snap out. It's a six-day, long-distance game of chicken. We need to stretch out time, make every minute last 63 seconds. And we can do this. Grinding out time is one of this team's greatest skills. All we need to do is slooww... thinnnnnnngs... dowwwwwwwwwwn...  

2. Somehow, last night, our bullpen held. Donno how, but it did. I think we're done with Carlos Rodon, who should have never thrown another pitch after the score became 3-1. If Rodon pitches again, it's on an inning-by-inning, batter-by-batter basis. That said, I like Clarke Schmidt. And maybe I'm nuts, but I believe Marcus Stroman, maybe even Nasty Nestor, will return for redemption. 

3. Then there is Ohtani. Who knows how this affects this? Great teams often rally when a star goes down. Not only that, but Ohtani wasn't exactly killing us. I love how we'd thrown him out at second. But if he's hurt, that's one less major stress point per every third inning. And if he's compromised, maybe he goes 0-for-10? 

4. I like that we made it a game in the 9th, and that - in the end - they were clutching life preservers. Jose Trevino whacked that ball, he's just not Freddy Freeman, that's all. Long flies are what you get, when he whacks one. But we made them sweat. 

4. The NYC haunted forest is here. We can run the table. The Dodgers think they saw the full madness of NYC last week. Nope. They aint seen nothing like what's to come. This is a Yankee crowd, in Yankee Stadium, with everything on the line. And like us, they've been thinking about this series since February. This sounds stupid, I know, but we've got 'em where we want 'em. 

Game thread: The Enemy Within?

 

"Judge looks awful at the plate."--Pinstripe Alley "No shit."--JM

He's picked a hell of a time to relive this season's April and May. 

"Everyone" says he's too good, he'll come around, he'll break out. Oh, yeah? 

He doesn't have a month or two to straighten himself out. He either does it tonight, or I say, bench him. Let him work with his personal batting coach for a bit. Or let him play defense, have Stanton DH for him, and let the pitchers bat. Maybe they can at least bunt.

This makes me very sad, but I mean it. Can we use Grisham? Put the Martian out there, regardless of his defense? Can we pinch hit for Judge if he comes up with men on base? 

Sure, I know this is all crazy talk. Sacrilege. Ugly. Maybe horrible juju. Certainly something nobody wants to say out loud.

But right now, the guy is a millstone around our necks. He doesn't want that. He wants to win. He wants to hit clutch home runs in the postseason, like Stanton. But...he can't. Never could.

It's been, what, nine years that he's been playing in every postseason we've had? Isn't that enough of a tryout?

 

3 Hours 39 minutes ......

 Don't hold me to exactitude, but that's how long the game took by my wobbly watch and hazy eyes. 

All to end in agony.

And it was that word with which I began today's WORDLE ( and earned a "PHEW" -  the last gasp before failure).

We did see it all.  A brilliant ( 6 inning ) start by Cole.  More exceptional defense by Verdugo, another huge HR by Giancarlo, and Soto in high gear. Rizzo making one of the best catches a first baseman can make, and providing leadership all night. And flash from Jazz.

But we also saw enough failure ( lackluster fielding by Gleybar, lack of speed in RF to reach a fly ball triple,  bases left full without " the game changing" hit, and the Russian roulette of our bullpen to assure a game always on the brink.

At the last moment, our hope went dark and we were left with frustration, pain. loss and bitterness.  Another big game we win if one more out can be secured.  The wins we always got with Mariano.  

This will happen again, tonight in Dodger Stadium.

Once more, into the breach.  Fuck 

Oh, no! The Yankees just suffered their worst postseason loss...in eight days!

Extra innings, in a crucial World Series game. The Yankees' bullpen was running low, but their manager still had options. Inexplicably, he chose to bring in an erratic starter who had not pitched in a month. Sure enough, minutes later came the walk-off home run that turned the whole Series around.

I'm talking about Game 4 of the 2003 World Series, of course, on October 22nd, when Jeff Weaver, who had pitched his way to a 5.99 ERA and had not thrown more than 1 inning in a game since Sept. 12th, and none at all since Sept. 23rd. 

Was a time when terrible Yankees losses in the postseason echoed down the decades, they were so few and far between. Grover Cleveland Alexander coming in to fan Tony Lazzeri with the bases loaded, and Cookie Lavagetto breaking up Floyd Bevens' no-hitter and winning the game on one pitch, and don't get me started about that damned Mazeroski! 

Now? Yankees losses in October come fast and furious, numerous nut-twisters even in the same postseason. We hadn't lost a game as bad as last night's...since the week before in Cleveland.

Over the course of The Cashman Captivity, what is most striking is how the losses seem to repeat themselves. Unless we are trapped in hell or The Twilight Zone, this should indicate something. 

Submitted for your consideration: under Brian Cashman, the New York Yankees have suffered the vast majority of the worst losses in their postseason history.

By this I mean, in part, the literal worst losses: 9-1 and 15-2 (Arizona, 2001 World Series); 10-3 (Boston, 2004 ALCS); 6-0 (Detroit, 2006 ALDS); 12-3 (Cleveland, 2007); 8-0 and 10-3 (Texas, 2010 ALCS); 8-1 (Detroit, 2012 ALCS); 7-1 (Houston, 2017 ALCS); and 16-1 (Boston, 2018 ALDS). 

In case you lost count, that's 10 separate losses by 6 or more runs. Put the straight numbers out there, and it looks like this: 9-1, 15-2, 10-3, 6-0, 12-3, 8-0, 10-3, 8-1, 7-1, 16-1. I doubt if your New York Yankees lost 10 such postseason blowouts in the previous 98 years of the franchise.

But I digress. By "worst losses," I'm talking metaphorically, of course. I mean the most gut-wrenching, pineapple-inserting, mind-blowing losses in the team's history—the sorts of losses that you still think about twenty years later.

Many years ago, I read with sniggering voyeurism both Roger Angell and Pete Gammons going over how the Boston Red Sox' worst defeats over the decades, all seemed to run together in one long nightmare.

But no need for such schadenfreude any longer! Now, Brian Cashman—a sort of one-man, virtual-reality machine of disappointment—has enabled us to live through such an endless film loop of defeats for ourselves.

The all-time horrors, of course, the ones that will never be forgiven or forgotten, came in Game 7 of the 2001 World Series and Games 4 and 5 of the 2004 ALCS, with Joe Torre refusing to acknowledge that Mariano Rivera could be overworked—and refusing to pitch around David Ortiz. (Not to mention bringing in Esteban Loaiza in extra innings with the score tied—a triple crown to go with the Weaver and Nestor calls to the bull pen). 

There's also Mike Mussina failing to hold a 6-1 lead against the Angels in Game 3 of the 2002 ALDS—and Mike Mussina failing to hold a 3-1 lead against the Tigers in Game 2 of the 2006 ALDS.

There's Randy Johnson failing to win with 7 runs in Game  3 2005 ALDS, and The Little Unit failing to beat Kenny Rogers in Game 3 of the 2006 ALDS.

There's a bedeviled and confused Joba Chamberlain, devoured by midges, walking the Indians to victory in 2007, and there's Jake Cousins, bedeviled and confused by the enormous apple in his throat, walking the Dodgers to victory last night.

There's Nick Swisher, butchering a ball in right field in the 2012 ALCS against the Orioles (just minutes before Derek Jeter had to be carried off the field), and BOTH Gleyber Torres and Oswaldo Cabrera butchering balls at second base to hand the Dodgers a win last night.

Always the same mistakes. Always the same shortcomings, repeated over and over and over again. The wrong relief pitcher at the wrong time. The bumbling fielder. The clueless manager. The stupid economies that leaves us one player short, each year and every year? (Anthony Rizzo over Freddie Freeman: another great Hal & Pal "savings.")

Then there's Alex Rodriguez, failing again and again and again in the clutch, come October. We had to recreate him, too, with our new head case, who I shall call only, Mr. Bill, at least until he gets an actual big hit in the playoffs. 

Once upon a time, the idea that another team in October would have walked someone, anyone, in order TO pitch to our residing superstar—our Babe Ruth or our Joe DiMaggio, our Mickey Mantle or our Reggie Jackson or out Derek Jeter—would have been inconceivable. And if they had, they would have paid for it. 

I know, I know:  that's one we can't blame on Hal & Pal. But it's part of our wonderful new Yankees era—one that we're about to compound by letting the guy they walked, walk. 

Now that's something new!

Ohtani 1, Judge 0. With a gut-punch and a million botched opportunities, the marathon begins.

Okay, the bright side: One game in, we've already suffered that inevitable, soul-devouring Yankee defeat - the certainty for every postseason series. 

Yeah. It's done. You can breathe again. Check for wounds. We're still standing. We're still here, (though I don't remember getting that BORN TO LOSE tattoo?)

Yeah, overnight, we inched closer to The Precipice. Another fiasco like last night, and we'll be candidates for cafeteria creamed-corn and rec-room canasta. But no matter what happens, it'll soon be November, with America's beckoning future of peace and prosperity.  

Yeah, we lost. But if you came here to watch me pee myself, sorry. We lost quickly, efficiently, with enough mortification to last an entire October. This will be a brutal series. Between now and Halloween, both teams will face the Babadook. 

Yeah, last night was a crusher. But here's the thing: 

At this point, they all are. 

Had it been a 12-2 laugher, we'd still be yowling. It turned out to be a walk-off grand slam with a million untaken paths to victory.

Two Dodger runs set up by fielding gaffes.

An intentional pass to bring up the lunging Aaron Judge with the bases full, so he can launch a pop-up. (I'm sorry, but "Captain October," he's not.) 

A reverse Jeffrey Maier HR fan-grab. 

A slightly botched grounder by Oswaldo. 

A long list of squandered moments: The great start by Gerrit Cole. The HR by Giancarlo. The five-out save by Luke Weaver. The rise of Jazz Chisolm as an agent of chaos. The Jeterian catch by Alex Verdugo. All of which led to nothing.

Frankly, I'm glad Freddie Freeman homered, rather than a walk-off single. The grand slam hurts more, cuts deeper, and I wanted the Yankees to feel it. I watched the entire Dodgers celebration, picturing the Yankees in their gloom, doing the same.  

Most teams never recover from a loss like last night. Worse, tonight, it's Yamamoto, who channeled Koufax the last time we saw him. It's not hard to imagine the Yankees returning to NYC down by two. But I'm telling you: We've seen worse. 

And we just flushed the worst out of our system. 

Why am I not depressed? Simple. As Yank fans, we're used to playing in the world series, right? We do it every October, right? This is nothing. This is a mosquito bite. We've been here before, right? Seriously. We're gonna win this thing. (But where did that tattoo come from?)

As big day arrives, polls call series between Dodgers and Yankees a dead heat

 

The question is whether LA will accept a NY victory. 

Play ball.

So it begins...Round 12 of the Yankees vs. the Grays/ Bridegrooms/ Superbas/ Robins/ Dodgers/ FuckfacetreasonouscorporatescumbagabsconderstoLaLaLand...

World Series Number 12—five more than any other two teams have played against one another. Number 12, going back to 1941 (above).

It's Hugh Casey's third strike getting past Mickey Owen, and Old Reliable Tommy Henrich racing to first base...Peter Reiser losing the ball in the later afternoon cigarette gloom...Gionfriddo going back back back back and making a one-handed catch against the bullpen Oh Doctor Well I'll be a suck-egg mule! As Joe DiMaggio kicks the dirt...It's Cookie Lavagetto breaking up Floyd Bevens' no-hitter and winning the game on one at-bat...Joe Page, the Gay Reliever, leaping over the bullpen fence to staunch the Dodgers...Branch Rickey telling Larry MacPhail I don't like you, sir, don't like you at all Dan Topping punching out MacPhail in the hotel kitchen...Tommy Henrich (again) with the walk-off for Allie "Superchief" Reynolds...Mickey Mantle (still 20!) homering off Joe Black and singling off Preacher Roe to win Game Seven at Ebbets Field for Bob Kuzava...Billy Martin running amok and grabbing Jackie Robinson's pop-up to win it for Bob Kuzava...Oisk setting the Series strikeout record with 14...Sandy Amoros racing over in left field to grab Yogi's flyball and win it, for once, for Brooklyn...Jackie stealing home and Don Larsen's perfect on the field of lengthening shadows as The Mick homers and grabs Gil Hodges long fly and Jackie hitting the ball over Country Slaughter's head and Don Newcombe leaving Ebbets in tears a year before everyone else did...

And it's Sandy Koufax setting the Series strikeout record with 15 even if The Mick does go long on him (once) and Joe Peptone losing the ball in the white shirts at Chavez Ravine...It's Reggie Reggie Reggie three straight pitches as the Bronx burns...Bucky Dent and Brian Doyle running amok and Bill Russell cursing New York...It is Bob Lemon pulling Tommy John and Mr. May and Mad King George benching Reggie and getting punched out in the elevator and apologizing to the people of New York for the Yankees when all he really needed to apologize for was his big fat boorish self.

It's 8-3 in our favor, but only 2-2 since the Fuckfacetreasonouscorporatescumbagomalleyians absconded to Natural Disaster Land, and we owe them one, we surely do.

Play ball.

It's time to fearlessly - yes, juju be damned! - make our predictions for the coming Yankee/Dodger apocalypse

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Can the Yankees Beat the Dodgers? Yes. Will They...?

 

All right, time to get down to brass tacks. Having been completely wrong about almost every aspect of the Yankees’ season so far, I feel more qualified than ever to give you my breakdown of the 2024 World Series. That’s what being a prognosticator is all about!

So what are we looking at? Well…

1—Past results…don’t mean diddly.  The Dodgers beat us twice, in early June, in a three-game set in New York that was remarkably meaningless. 

 

The only Dodger starter from that set who is still on the postseason roster was Yoshinobu Yamamoto, who threw seven strong, shutout innings, in the Dodgers’ 2-1, 10-inning win in the first game.  The Yanks started Cody Poteet, who threw almost 5 shutout innings; Luis Gil, who gave up 3 earned runs in 5 innings, and Nestor Cortes, who gave up 4 earned in 5 1/3 innings of the second game’s 11-3 loss. Luis Gil gave up 3 earned in 5 2/3, in the third game, a 6-4 Yankee win.

Even many of the usual mess of relivers are no longer around. Juan Soto missed the whole series with an injury.

 

Amongst those who were there, Giancarlo Stnaton went a hideous 0-14, with no ribbies, and 4 strikeouts. Aaron Judge was 7-11, with 4 runs scored, 5 RBI, 3 homers, and a double that was one of only two hits off Yamamoto.

 

For the Bums, Shohei Ohtani was only 2-13, with 4 runs scored, 1 RBI, a double, and no stolen bases.  Mookie Betts—batting leadoff and playing shortstop—was 4-12, with 2 runs scored, and 2 RBI.

 

So…I think we can safely conclude that, based on in-season results...nuthin’ means nuthin’.

2—The Dodgers have an awesome lineup. But…not nearly as awesome as it looked against the Mets.

 

The former Lords of Flatbush scored nearly 8 runs a game in the championship series against our NL brethren—but this was mostly because the Mets helped them to it.

 

The Queens team issued a record, 42 walks in the series, and ran up an ERA of 7.10. I know that walks are the tribute that pitching pays to sluggers, but to Tommy Edman and Max Muncy? 

Essentially, the Mets had a highly erratic bullpen all year long, while their starting staff was made up of reconstituted No. 3 and 4 starters. The bell tolled for both groups in the NLCS, and what this meant was that Dodger hitters were constantly hitting with men on base already. Take a look at the difference this meant for some of the Bums’ hitting stars in the series and in the regular season:

Tommy Edman:

NLCS:      .407/.393/.630/1.022

Season:   .237/.294/.417/.711

 

Kiké Hernandez:

NLCS:      .292/.393/.417/.810

Season:   .229/.281/.373/.654

 

Max Muncy:

NLCS:      .333/.630/.733/1.363

Season:   .232/.358/.494/.852

Even the Dodgers’ superstars significantly overperformed in the NLCS:

 

Shohei Ohtani:

NLCS:      .364/.548/.636/1.185

Season:   .310/.390/.646/1.036

 

Mookie Betts:

NLCS:      .346/.452/.710/1.182

Season:   .289/.372/.491/.863

3—Our starters need to do it. Starting pitching is the biggest edge the Yankees have over the Flock, and that edge shrinks a lot if Yamamoto somehow manages to give them two good starts, or if Jack Flaherty pitches as well as he did in his first start against the Mets.

 

We need at least three and preferably four strong starts from our supposed superstar pitchers, Cole and Rodon. And by strong, I mean 6-7 innings, 2 or fewer runs. No easy task. It would be great if we could get a couple of strong five-inning starts from Schmidt and Gil—I’m talking no more than 3 runs in that time.

Can they do this? I dunno. But we can't have another reappearance of Flouncy, or we're done.

4—Our pen has to keep doing it. The Yanks’ relief corps has been the great surprise of the playoffs so far. They need to keep it up—which won't be easy. 

 

The Dodgers will no doubt throw a “bullpen game.” Or two. Or three. This is awful for baseball, but it might work out for the Dodgers. The Mets got shut out twice, and left 52 men on base in the six games of the NLCS.

 

The Yankees are also perfectly capable of stranding endless runners. But they just put paid to a Cleveland Guardians bullpen that was considerably better than the Dodgers’—and I think I read somewhere that LA’s lefty relievers are very limited.

5—Off days? Hard to say if the absurdly long delay between the end of the NLCS and the start of the World Series will favor either team.

 

The Dodgers have just been shredded with injuries this season; the team has used 40 different pitchers. Their arms must have been limp as spaghetti after the NLCS. And if the delay gives someone like Freddie Freeman time to heal, then good night, nurse.

 

On the other hand…the Yankees’ own relievers had been pushed to the edge, and were beginning to look more than a little weary. Some rest might help.

 

The days off might also cool the white-hot hand of Dodger batters. It could also cool off Stanton, of course, and take Juan Soto out of his Tasmanian Devil act. But then, a little relaxation might take Aaron Judge off the schneid. The Yanks weren’t exactly ripping the cover off the ball in the ALCS. And maybe Rizzo gets better, too.

6—Chavez Ravine. The experts are all pooh-poohing the idea of home field advantage, pointing to how well the Yanks played on the road this year. Maybe so: but of course, the real home-field advantage—as determined by some mad survey that studied every game ever played, or something like it—comes from the hometown crowd unconsciously intimidating the refs or umps into calling it their way. This would favor the Bums.

 

7—Strategy. Obviously, the Yanks can’t go on running the bases like drunks. Or fielding like drunks. Nor can we keep slipping an awful, slumping lefty in between Judge and Stanton.

 

Aaron Boone seems to have learned the latter lesson, finally, so we give him his props. But is he any match for Dave Roberts? No, he is not. The Dodgers’ push to the World Series this year, in light of the mountain of injuries the team sustained, is in part a tribute to Roberts, a man who has always bedeviled us.

8—Smells like team spirit. Both these teams seem to have really bonded and both have played through a lot to get here. 

 

The Dodgers have been the best-run organization in baseball for at least the past 12 years now, no matter what Brian Cashman would like to think. They have a great GM, an excellent manager, and incredible depth. 

 

They have had some bad luck in the playoffs and have misused their Hall of Fame starter, Clayton Kershaw, when it comes to planning for the postseason. They now have another superstar at the top of their lineup, who all of MLB would love to see destroy the Yankees.

 

This Yankees team, by contrast, is full of holes, and full of doubts about its greatest hitter. On the other hand, they have pulled it together more and more as the postseason has progressed, winning one close game after another.

 

I do fear that, thanks to the days off, we will forget all that, and our less athletic lineup will be swept off the field. But if forced to pick a winner, I would say…Yanks in six.

(Oh, juju deities, please forgive me for my runaway optimism!)

Ex-Cubs Doom Yanks

As savvy statheads will avow,
To one certainty we all must bow:
No team can pocket World Series bank
With 3 or more ex-Cubs in its ranks.

It's analytics, not cant or mystery,
Proven throughout baseball history.
The prudent Dodgers, reviewing facts,
In August Jason Heyward axed.

Making a close Series even tighter,
The Yankees will field Mark Leiter,
Rizzo, Stroman and LeMahieu--
A daring display of bad juju.

With four ex-Cubbies on their squad,
Gotham thumbs its nose at the baseball gods.
Such hubris likely will not stand.
The crown will return to La-La Land. 

For more on this unbreakable baseball rule, which has proven correct in 1978 and 1981, to the Yankees' advantage and disadvantage, check out this article by the writer who coined the phrase, Ron Berler.

One more excruciating day of waiting

I feel like Martin Sheen at the beginning of Apocalypse Now, holed up in my living room, guzzling tequila and putting kung-fu moves on the furniture. Over three nights, I've gone through 15 mirrors, maiming myself and smearing blood across my face. The usual stuff, honing the juju before a big game. Awaiting the call from MGR Boone, awaiting The Mission... 

Did MLB think we needed five empty days to prepare for the world series? This isn't a week of Calgon Bath Oil Beads. I'm running out of TVs. I've eaten two remotes. I'll be lucky to survive this. 

In the meantime...

1. If you wanna laugh, check out Luke Weaver's surreal deadpan interviews with Meredith Marakovits this season. My fave: He compares winning to an ice cream truck. Funniest Yank since Jay Johnstone? Trump boasts of the Weave. We have the Weave. 

2. All season, no matter who we played, the Yankees could always boast the biggest, scariest muthafukkah on the field. Didn't matter if it was KC (Witt Jr.), or Cleveland (Ramirez), or Toronto (Vlad Jr.) or Boston (Devers or Tampa (um? a little help here?) Nobody compared to Aaron Judge. You could take two hitters and piggyback them. Still not even close. But in this series, we actually do face a matching slugger. Just sayin...' 

3. A story in The Athletic describes the Yankees as extremely close-knit, a big family, thanks to Boone, Judge, Rizzo, et al. Winning does that, and bullshit reigns during world series week. Still, there's something there. In in past years - (like, the last 15) - Yankee teams have splintered by now, toxically melting down into excuses for what went wrong. This team does seem different. It took an incredible gut-punch from Cleveland, the kind that would kill us in the past. They got up, rubbed dirt on the wounds, and won some tough, close games. Meanwhile, LA just walloped the Mets; their games were laughers. We have shown character. They have shown might. I like our chances.

4. Hate to belabor this, but if the Yankees don't take the brass ring, next year's team could be a sad fragment of what we now have. Several key players will leave in free agency. It's too early to fret over 2025, but soon, some faves - Gleyber, Doogie, Holmes, Tommy K, and of course, Soto -will come up for what is probably their final Yankee moments. Get the Kleenex. And don't forget The Master's final radio call. (And why do I think Suzyn will be gone, too?) The end of an era looms.  

Now, excuse me, I have another mirror to shatter.

If you're in a horror movie, you make bad decisions. It's what you do. And if you're a Yankee baserunner...

By now, everybody knows the ad. Young people flee a hockey-masked Babadook, and the pretty blonde bawls, "Let's just get into that running car," only to hear: "Are you crazy?" 

In a horror movie, you make bad decisions. It's what you do. It's been running for 10 years, a Halloween classic akin to Elvira, the Great Pumpkin and Simpson's Treehouse of Horror. 

Lately, I've wondered what kind of movie the 2024 Yankees are writing - because of their bad baserunning decisions. 

Okay, lemme back up. This is no time to whine about Boone, or the umps, or anybody's contract. This might just be the best single week of 2024, four off-days leading to the world series. We haven't lost a game. We haven't stranded a runner. Why am I ragging about botched steals and pickoffs? 

It's simple: If you're a Yankee fan, you rant and rave. That's what you do.

Sorta like the Presidential election. Everybody wants it to end, but what follows might not be so nice. Someday, we might look back on mid-October, when we were enjoying a heat wave and an iconic world series - and wish we could go back. But that's another thing. For now, it's all about running the bases.  

In recent weeks, we saw speedster Jose Trevino get thrown out at third. We saw the plodding Gleyber Torres get nipped at home. We saw Jazz Chisolm get picked off second. We saw Anthony Rizzo get - well - here's how John Sterling called it...

“A bouncer. And Rizzo is going to be picked off! He’s in the middle, between second and third. Tagged out. End of inning. Boy, if that’s not the Yankees! That’s what they do, run the bases like drunks.”

Yep. That's what he said. That's what they do. In 35 years of listening to Sterling, I have never heard him compare the Yankees to such a thing. They "run like drunks."

One other thing, can you imagine what we'd be writing if Giancarlo Stanton been thrown out, attempting to steal second? It turned out well, and we'll have all winter to laugh about it, but would he dare try it again? 

Look, I write this in the hope that - by saying it aloud - it will come to pass. I mean, what are the odds that we predict something, and it happens? 

I guess the question is simple: Are we in a horror movie? The answer? Dunno. But we are definitely running toward that barn full of chainsaws. It's what we do. 

Rudy will try to watch the Yankees in the Series while they're carrying his TV away

 Yes but, pending a court hearing, he can still keep the rings. 

Update: a cute little 2007 New York Times story about the Yankees' coziness with Guiliani and the city. Sorry to lay all this corruption on you during World Series Week, or whatever it's called, but I think we all knew this stuff, and there's time to forget it before Friday night. I know I will. 

An Above Average Haiku Tuesday ~ This Little Piggy went to Chavez Ravine Edition

 

(and please don't run the bases like drunks during the World Series, OK?)

There he goes! Stealin' Stanton tied for third in Yankee postseason SBs, and other Tuesday ponderings

 Who needs a double when you've got a walk and stolen base?

Other thoughts...

1. Sad that The Martian, during his days in Scranton, didn't take enough fly balls in left field to approximate an MLB outfielder. Alex Verdugo hasn't been hitting, and this October could have been Jasson Dominguez's coming out party. But Doogie's glove has made a huge difference. Let's hope The Martian shows up next March with a thousand fly balls under his belt.

2. Once LA clinched, seems to me that MLB could have started toward the world series. Five off days in October seems like a huge waste of calendar. Around this time of year, New York can turn cold and miserable. They had a perfect opportunity to start the series on Wednesday, and LA would have had plenty of time to rest its staff. Did we need a Super Bowl week of hype?

3. In olden days of yore, the Yankees always seemed to have the advantage of world series experience. Not anymore. The list of Yankee starters who have played in previous world series are: Juan Soto, Anthony Rizzo and Gerrit Cole. 

Damn... three more empty days to go. 

Sportsapalooza II!

 

...did not go quite as well as the (now renamed) Sportsnado. But hey, it did produce New York's first ever, all-female, champion pro sports team, the New York Liberty. Congratulations, Ladies of Liberty!

It took the Libs 28 years and six championship series, but they won a WNBA title, led by Jonquil Jones, their hard-driving center (above, looking over where is now her city; or some city), and MVP of the team's thrilling final.

This is great for women's basketball and, we can only hope, a great augury for your New York Yankees, the team that set off the weekend Sportsapalooza by finally scraping their way back into the World Series.

Sadly, though, the weekend was not so great for the New York Mets, who fell just two games short of making this a Subway Series (and thereby sparing us enough agita to choke a horse). Much worse was the fate of our two local football teams, who lost their games by a combined score of 65-18. Ouch! Where was that vaunted Jets defense? Where was that vaunted Aaron Rodgers? Where have all the Giants gone?

Never mind. Hey, the Devils barely lost in overtime, the Islanders won a shootout, and the Rangers took it to the Maple Leafs (shouldn't that be "Leaves"?). The defending National Women's Soccer League champs, the NJ/NY Gotham FC, took a big step toward another women's team ticker tape parade (maybe?), by severely damaging the Pride of Orlando, 3-1.  

Sports are a-flourishing here (at least outside the Meadowlands), but the grandest celebration of all would be seeing a New York baseball team roll up the Canyon of Heroes. Right? Well, wouldn't it? Please?

The mission is not accomplished, but let's thank the people behind our success

Well, we are going to the World Series. 

Whatever happens, it will be a wild ride. And even in defeat, we will be joyful and thankful for this grand opportunity. 

Today, let's acknowledge those who made this possible: 

The juju gods, who just last week somehow coaxed four wild pitches in one game! That's felony grade juju, folks. You can't teach it. You can't buy it. And the juju gods have it. 

These tireless deities deserve our respect. Not only do they work around the clock - nights and weekends - but they never whine, they show great attention to detail and - hey, you know what? They are hot. Yes, it needs to be said: They are, by far, the best looking gods on the firmament spectrum. And smart, too. Smart as the dickens. They wear glasses and read a lot - Russian novels, thick books, heady stuff. And they're nice to old folks. Have I ever mentioned how fundamentally kind they are? Sure, now and then they'll royally screw you - it's the job! - but overall, our juju gods are the unsung heroes of the indigenous immortality community. 

So, to all you juju gods - keepers of bad hops and expanded strike zones - I humbly salute you. Thank you for your hard work in  2024. You are top-notch beings. 

Regardless of how the series ends - I mean, none of us at IT IS HIGH would ever put our earthly demands over the gratitude we feel- I say, BRAVO! Way to go, chief! You've done it again! And, hey, have you guys lost weight?