Chris Carter is no more

Let history show that the last time we saw Chris Carter in Yankee stirrups, he remained true to the Chris Carter Eternal Legacy: 

With the winning run on third, he struck out swinging on four pitches. It was Chris being Chris. Good grief, one more strikeout? That wasn't even a bug bite. That's a grain of sand in the Sahara, a dead wildebeest in the Serengeti, a strain of Chlamydia in Justin Bieber's - oh hell, you get the picture, it happens a lot. 

If you're into numbers - and who isn't! - it was Carter's 70th strikeout this year, tying him for second on the team. I looked it up. He fanned 6 out of every 10 at bats. He struck out 51 times against RH pitchers, hitting .219 - but was worse against lefties, batting only .170. On full counts, he walked 8 times and struck out 14. I looked it up.

Oh, here's a stat to make you pucker: With pitchers ahead in the count, Carter struck out 36 times, with no walks - not once did he outlast a pitcher and draw one of those soul-crushing bases on balls . Also, behind in the count, he hit .200.

But wait, there's more: With men on base, he struck out 36 times. And with runners in scoring position, he produced 22 strikeouts. I looked it up.

With two outs and a runner in scoring position - crunch time for veteran sluggers - he struck out 11 times and hit .130.

O!, here's one: In one-run game situations, when - you know, the Yankees figured he might hit that big homer - he struck out 37 times. Thirty. Seven. Times. 

I can't back this with stats, but I estimate that Carter hit 10 foul ball homers and at least 20 jeeeeeeeeeeeust misses - you know, like Jesse Barfield in his final incarnation - that became towering popups. If he wasn't striking out, Carter was belting Ruthian popups.  

Weird, but in this year of the strikeout, you could argue that Carter wasn't the worst 1B in baseball.  That distinction probably belongs to Mike Napoli, batting .200 with 74 strikeouts. Or Chris Davis of the Orioles, (.226 with 95 Ks.) But whenever Carter strode complacently back to his warm dugout cushion, I had to wonder, how did we get here? 

For the last three years, I'd been whining about why Mark Teixeira couldn't shorten his swing, go to the opposite field now and then, or simply learn to bunt? But he didn't. Or he couldn't. I'd wonder why these guys just don't choke up with two strikes and put the fucking bat on the ball? Yes, I know it's harder than it sounds, but none of them ever seemed to try. Carter's third strike swing was a carbon copy of his first - that long, looping swish. Was there no coach in the clubhouse, no voice in the organization, to take the guy aside and say, "Hey, buddy, this ain't working, you gotta adjust your swing, or you're gonna be gone..."

Today, Chris is gone. Today, we unwrap Tyler Austin - (as you know, we can never have too many Austins, Tylers and Aarons.) Last night, Carter received his walking papers and bus fare to Omaha. Austin is getting called up from Scranton, where he was 6 for 15 with three HRs in his last four games. Supposedly, the Yankees are concerned that Austin strikes out too frequently. For the record, I have no such worries. I hearken back to Trump's stump speech: Seriously, folks, whaddaya got to lose? 

I wish Carter well. He seems like a nice man, almost a gentle soul. But we've just been spared another 100 heart-bursting strikeouts. And last night, we won! The next batter, Ronald Torreyes, singled, driving in the winning run. That final strikeout, Carter's last preserved-in-amber memory, cost us nothing. We don't have to live with it seared into our consciousness.

Okay, now... Chase Headley?