Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Just two weeks in, Aaron Boone seems to have aged 10 years

Last night, after a 12-1 victory.
When the Yanks in December made Aaron Boone the 33rd manager in their history, nobody knew if he had the chops to run a ball club, but one point remained above dispute: The guy would certainly look good stepping off the bus. 

At 45, Boonie showed the cheekbones of a Prada model and the pillowed lips of a game show host, if not a network anchorman. He looked much like Joe Girardi did 10 years ago, before he turned into a Dorian Grey painting of pineapple shivs. He might not be a manager, but he sure could play one on TV.

"My captors want $1 million to secure my release..."
Well, take a good look at the poor, bedraggled, homeless man on the right... clicks from last night's celebratory post-game show on YES. Note the mailbags under the eyes, which seem focused down the barrel of an imaginary Glock. The arms are crossed, shoulders slumped, soul locked into a perpetual sigh. Clearly, this hostage has been abused, physically and mentally. Throughout  most of this ransom video, Boone slumps forward, so the brim of his cap - (God forbid he take it off) - obscures half his weary face. He looks like a war prisoner. 

This... after a 12-1 victory.

I've often wondered what it would be like to manage the Yankees. (Not a month goes by without a call from Randy Levine, offering me the job.)  You'd face constant second-guessing, even when your team wins. On a daily basis for nine months, you'd massage 25 egos - figuring out which players need to be coddled and which need the whip. And one day, no matter how successful, they would come with a cardboard box for your personal items.

Surely, Boone is a bright man, a fast-learner. And the Yankees saw something in him. It's too early to judge his decisions. One could argue that - considering the deluge of injuries - the team has done fine, just above .500. But take a good look at the man pictured above. It's been two weeks.


Joe Formerlyof Brooklyn said...

I once took a job that got me a 50% raise immediately, with the promise of a lot more to come.

I quit inside of 11 weeks. I was able to do so because we have no kids (and my wife saw what was happened to me). I became unemployed -- which mutated into a career as a freelance write/editor.

Is my experience relevant? Maybe. I grabbed for the brass ring -- lots and lots of $$$, working at a job I could clearly do. But.....

I ended up realizing my mistake only after taking the job.

Here's the kicker: I quit the job the same day that I noticed, while shaving, that I would not look myself in the eyes.

Why not? THIS IS WHAT I LOOKED LIKE after only 11 weeks.

Altho: I was nowhere near as pretty as ABoone when I started.

el duque said...

One of the many writers who come to this site, by the way.

KD said...

Hi Joe FOB. I can't imagine what it was that you were up to but I am thrilled that you ditched it for happiness. it's all that really matters.

HoraceClarke66 said...

He does look traumatized! I wonder if Cashman harasses him with the same sorts of phone calls that Cash used to get from Big George?

ranger_lp said...

I recognize that look on the right hand side...the look if someone was part of a hostage video.

Local Bargain Jerk said...

I thought it was weird when he used his eyelids to blink out T-O-R-T-U-R-E and then L-E-V-I-N-E in Morse Code. Anyone else see that?

John M said...

LBJ, you're onto something. We have to rescue Booney before he's beheaded on videotape by hooded members of the front office.

I once dreamed of having a big-money job, but when I saw people I knew getting big-money jobs, they all had no lives. All they did was work. And when they were home, they thought about work (pre-internet days).

Myself, I used to shower in the morning while thinking about work assignments, walked to the subway thinking about work assignments, ate lunch thinking about work assignments.

Eventually I realized that nobody pays you huge dinero to have fun. They take it out of your hide.

An old friend and I used to talk about the money some people we knew were making. We both agreed that if we got a job for 500k or a million a year (not out of the question, with enough ambition, in the ad game of the time), we'd work for a year and then retire. But as my friend pointed out, "And that's why we'll never be one of the guys who gets a job like that."

Good luck, Booney. Talking to TV cameras is a lot more fun, and a lot less stressful.

Vampifella said...

I remembered when it happened to Girardi. I thought he had cancer or some other bad disease and shouldn't resign due to his ailing health. He looked that bad to me. I wouldn't wish being Yanks manager on anybody!

Anonymous said...

He needs perspective that's all.

First game Red Sox vs. Marlins 7-3 Red Sox
First Game Yankees vs. Marlins 12-1 Yankees.

Margin of victory Red Sox +4
Yankees +11

Clearly we are the better team by 7.

Doug K.

Publius said...

It's the weather, not the team. Enough to make the chirpiest chap miserable lately.

Anonymous said...

Hey Hoss… because you asked... here you go.

Red Barber, Mel Allen, and David Cone walk into bar… and they run up a huge tab. Unfortunately none of them brought any money with them. So the owner comes out from the back and he says, “I will let you slide on the bill if you do some announcing for me.”

The three of them look at each other and say, “Sure, why not? What you you like us to call?” and the owner says, “You see that guy over there? Every night he comes in here and he picks a fight. It’s getting tiresome. But if you guys call the fight it might make it more enjoyable for the rest of the patrons.

Sure enough ten minutes later the guy is in someone’s face. Red Barber goes, “This is Red Barber speaking. Let me say hello to you all. Looks like we’ve got a rubarb! Oh doctor!” and the owner says, “That’s good. OK you can go.”

As Red is leaving the bar the guy starts to shove one of the patrons and the owner points to Mel Allen. And Mel says, “ Hello everybody this is Mel Allen. It’s a beautiful day for a bar fight. The little guy swings.. oh he took a good cut but hit the waitress. How about that!” And the owner says, “Thanks. You can go” and as Mel walks out the door he says, “I am going..going.. gone”

So now the fight is getting out of control and he turns to David Cone and Coney says, “ I think I know that guy. He and I used to cruise the bars together when I was with the Royals. It was different time back then.” And the owner says, “Are you going to call the fight or what?” and Coney says, “Nah fuck that. I’m out of here” and he starts to leave.

Just then the owner and the bartender leap across the bar grab him and as Coney goes flying through the window he says, “ I have a launch angle of 38 degrees and an exit velocity of 10 MPH.“

Doug K.

KD said...

Made me laugh Doug! Gotta love this blog and duque's cast of characters.

HoraceClarke66 said...

Very good! I like the whole idea, too: Yankees announcers jokes. It could become an entire genre!