Wednesday, September 8, 2021

So No One Noticed?

 Gerritt Cole left early last night.

A bit of a hammy twinge, I hear.

More innings for Kriske Kritter, then?


HoraceClarke67 said...

Time to focus on a really big loss.

This will almost undoubtedly be The Master's last year in the booth, no? And maybe Suzy Q's as well?

Should we plan anything for this? I think we can now safely assume their last broadcast will be Sunday, Oct. 3, against TB. What would be an appropriate send-off?

Rufus T. Firefly said...

T.S. Eliot:

not with bang, but with a wimper.

A sad end to a Yankee decade and

A sad end to remarkable careers.

At least the Tampon games are home games and John and Suzyn will actually be watching the game live and not on a video feed from the opposing team.

13bit said...

how much did we discover a skywriter would cost a few years ago?

Anonymous said...

Tonight's lineup is absurd--nearl all of the usual suspects of failure, stubbornly ushered into action again: Gardner? Odor? Gallo? GARDNER LEADING OFF? The only rational explanation of that Boone taking side payments from Toronto or Boston or Tampa Bay.

Gil starting the game is the only sign of a flicker of sanity or intelligence in the Yankee Brainless Trust. If the Yankees are going to have a chance to salvage even a second wild card spot, the following steps are necessary--although they will never happen: Bench Gardner, Gallo, and Odor--currently three of the worst players in baseball--and keep them benched aside from pinch-hitting or pinch-running duties. Start the following guys in every remaining game: Wade, Velazquez, and Allen and/or Florial. GAllen and/or Florial would be as good as or better than Gardner on defense and speed and certainly no worse at the plate--probably better (most likely better in Allen's case). Give Voit most of the starts at first base--his superior bat more than compensates for Rizzo's defensive advantage; Keep Gil in the starting rotation. Never allow Heaney anywher near the pitcher's mound again.

If this were an organization governed by intelligence rather than high-school-like reverence for "names" and regressed alpha-male "leadership" idiocies--in other words, like any organization in baseball other than this disastrous asylum of mediocrities and imbeciles--that's exactly what would happen. But dream on . . . until the apocalypse, which is just around the corner.

13bit said...

Regarding the apocalypse, as the great Sun Ra and his Arkestra used to chant: "It's after the end of the world. Don't you know that yet?"

TheWinWarblist said...

Gil is about to give up his first major league runs. We won'y score for him The losing streak is well on it's way to 13.

Platoni said...

7 walks in 3.1 innings. I'm so mad for him (not AT him. I like Gil)

TheWinWarblist said...

6 Ks but 7 walks. He didn't have good location. Now the lefty LL gives up a wild pitch. This is how the rest of the evening will go. Dreadfully.

Platoni said...

Now I'm madder for Gil. Lucas, Wtf, man?

TheWinWarblist said...

Lootgy blows. Wild pitch with an assist from ICS, pop up and then 2 run single. Down by three for a team that cannot score is a deep hole.

Platoni said...

0-3 eh? They ain't coming back from this. Should I go to bed or should I drink some more of the strong local distillate that makes you forget darn near everything

TheWinWarblist said...

2 and 8 over the last ten and working on another big losing streak.

TheWinWarblist said...

Platoni, you could do both?

Platoni said...

Yeah. If I go for option two, the first will follow undoubtedly.

TheWinWarblist said...

Teoscar Hernandez having an 11 pitch at bat. Do we have anyone who can do that?

TheWinWarblist said...

13 pitches and he works a walk. I remember when the Yankees controlled the strike zone.

Platoni said...

Yankees used to pride themselves in working the opposing pitchers to the bone. But this unit is a far cry from what we're used to

Rufus T. Firefly said...

The Yankees DO control the strike zone.

DARE to take strike three!

Anonymous said...

Blogger Rufus T. Firefly said...
"Stat-bitch, you mysoginistic, miserable little maggot." You're giving her way too much credit.

September 8, 2021 at 9:02 PM

So duque--I guess your little sermon was all for naught in the absence of any corrective action. You and everyone else can see the source of the problem. Yet you do nothing about it. This guy is showing complete contempt for you and the blog.

Anonymous said...

I learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles
Who married young and then retired
The valentines I never knew
The Friday night charades of youth
Were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth

And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home
Inventing lovers on the phone
Who called to say come dance with me
And murmured vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems
At seventeen

A brown eyed girl in hand me downs
Whose name I never could pronounce
Said, "Pity please the ones who serve,
They only get what they deserve"
The rich relationed hometown queen
Marries into what she needs
With a guarantee of company
And haven for the elderly

Remember those who win the game
Lose the love they sought to gain
In debentures of quality
And dubious integrity
Their small town eyes will gape at you
In dull surprise when payment due
Exceeds accounts received
At seventeen

To those of us who know the pain
Of valentines that never came
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball
It was long ago and far away
The world was younger than today
And dreams were all they gave for free
To ugly duckling girls like me

We all play the game and when we dare
To cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unknown
That call and say, come dance with me
And murmur vague obscenities
At ugly girls like me
At seventeen

ZacharyA said...

Y’all wild in here sometimes

Anonymous said...

More to the point:

The Hollow Men

Mistah Kurtz-he dead
A penny for the Old Guy


We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us-if at all-not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.


Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer-

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom


This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.


The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.


Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

Anonymous said...

Great poem. Getting into T.S. Elliot. You could do a lot worse.

Platoni said...

Well, lookit that. Gallo on base three times.

And after slotting him second in the lineup for days, Boone is looking around waiting to be called a genius for fixing him.

Kevin said...

"Worst player in baseball" Gardner ties the game with a three-run shot.

Platoni said...

Velazquez needs to learn when to eat it

Anonymous said...

New thread available no abuse