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Saturday, January 26, 2008

Yanks Down on Santana Trade: Who are We Kidding?

Ourselves. That’s who.

For starters, if there is a more addicted guzzler of overpriced veterans in the universe than George Steinbrenner, it exits on some bizarre planet where rocks haven’t been invented. Then there is Hank, who in December practically got down on one knee to offer Minnesota a diamond ring in his teeth, begging them to take Melky, Hughes and somebody else – a trade offer so horrifying to Yankee fans that the organization has spent a month in damage control, pretending it was a crack hallucination.

Now, the official line is this: Santana? Pttuui. Bah. Pyush. We could care less. We prefer young players. We have no interest in, what was the name again? Santolo? Sanfrancisco? We have – say - are you going to finish that cigarette?

What a farce. They are like 5-year-olds skipping around a church basement in musical chairs, while the record player drones “Theme from Titanic.” One of these days, the music will stop, Minnesota will announce a pending deal, and we’ll watch Hank and Hal and Cash and maybe even the old man (bless his heart) scrambling for the nearest chair like Shriners at a peep show.

Melky? Kennedy? Hughes? Horne? Jesus Montero? Yeeesh. Those guys must shudder every time the phone rings. Next stop, Minnesota. Bring earmuffs and a cheese-slicer.

What a line they spout. Minnesota doesn’t believe it. Boston doesn’t believe it. The fans don’t believe it. So who are they kidding?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Dear El Duque,

While most of your comments on the Johan nightmare are valid, there is something you, apparently, do not know.

Perhaps it relates to your refusal to travel west of the Hudson...I know you go east...why not west?

OK. Here it is; there is no cheese in Minnesota.

Johan will be a Yankee within 10 days.

And we will have him and Latroy Hawkins...no one else.

Except for the coming of Jesus.

I hate free agency.

Everyone in America already hates Santana. If he has a breath of brain, he will stay where he is.

Ed whitson's Yankee experience will seem like Disney world compared to what this guy will endure, as he underperforms, struts around the upper east side with supermodels, and spills mustard on his shirt.

Meanwhile, we'll be left looking at Eric Duncan as our best minor league prospect at any level.