A FRIENDLY REMINDER

At the onset of this season, actually a few weeks prior, I made a series of predictions.

El Duque scoffed.

The re-branded MUSTANG did not write off my incantations.

I predicted:

1.  Pineda would have arm surgery and not come north with the Yankees.

2.  The " top prospect " we also got in the Pineda trade would never pitch for the Yankees and, moreover, was used kleenex as far as talent goes.

3.  That Banuelos would have surgery and not pitch for the Yankees (  I now think he will never pitch for the Yankees).  Don't forget, all the Yankee scouts and former players were calling him the next, Ron Guidry.

4.  That Bettances was a too-tall geek who could not pitch strikes.

5.  That the entire idea of, "a great yankee abundance of young catching talent," was a typical front office lie.

6.  That Tex would never bunt or hit to the opposite field ( except when swinging late unintentionally) to beat the shift.

7.  That this team was bound to suffer some meaningful injuries during the season ( due to its age and yearly grind of being on the field).

8.  That would we never see that lefty the Mets stuck us with 2 years ago, or any of the lefties we allowed Pittsburgh to stick us with.

9.  That A-Rod looked like a .260 hitter good for maybe 20 HRs ( I can't even go back to my anger when the Yankees re-signed him on his terms , so we have him until the league expands to europe).

10.  That we have no talent, none, in the minors at any level.  Maybe some 8th grader from the Dominican will prove useful someday, but all the other names are a joke including the 140 pound center fielder in A ball.

11.  That our front office people responsible for the amateur draft should be sent to work for the Syrian Government.  We haven't drafted anyone who can play since Derek ( I don't think Robbie Cano was acquired through the draft....not sure).

12.  That we would likely make the playoffs, but had no chance to get out of round one ( you don't hit homers off of aces from quality teams ).

None of this was meant to become true.  All of it was supposed to make me look the fool.

For some reason, negative JU-JU has departed my powers.
I think I need to drink more, and eat more cheeseburgers.

Casey at the Bag: You can't spell McGehee without an extra E

Last night, we dodged a bullet. A hollow point. Casey McGehee - the newly shaven firstbaseman who is holding third for us until Arod's hand can once again grip a lobster fork - butchered a DP grounder, which nearly lead to a late inning collapse of Biblical proportions. Or at least the stuff of literary domain. ("That aint my style," said Casey. "E-5," the umpire said!)

Listen, when we blow six run leads, we don't get them back. And it's the same with a 10-game lead in July. If we find ourselves battling for the Wild Card game - should we pitch CC or Kuroda? - forget about it. We would be facing the most embarrassing Yankee event since Javier Vazquez came in to pitch to Johnny Damon. I'd rather be attending a Celine Dion concert during the zombie apocalypse. And dammit, that's one horrorific image.

So what do we make of Casey McGehee? For starters, we gave up nothing for him. Chad Qualls. Forgive me, mother of Chad Qualls, if you happen to read this blog, but your fine strapping son meant nothing to the Yankees. He came for about three weeks, threw a few pitches, and he's gone. We go through five or 10 of them each year. Did you know Wally Whitehurst was once a Yankee? So was Sidney Ponson. But at least we traded Chad Qualls for somebody: Casey McGehee. Plus cash. That's sorta scary. I mean, when the Pirates give you cash in the deal, something is up. I don't even to think about that.

Of course, I went on my soapbox last month to say the Yankees should give Brandon Laird a chance. Shows what I know. Laird has hit three home runs since Arod went down. But I guess he's got Tucker Ashford disease. Maybe he fields like Casey McGehee. I dunno. 

But I do know this: If we lost last night, every Yankee fan in the world today would be screaming for Casey McGehee's newly shaven head. And we all would be thinking the same horrifying thought: Who starts the Wild Card game, CC or Kuroda? I'd rather have my intestines eaten by Celine Dion. (She always could gain a few pounds.)

Open Letter to Brian Cashman: Sign Usain Bolt

Dear Madam or Sir,
     
Supposedly, Brett Gardner is pondering a September comeback as pinch runner. 

No. No-no-no-no. En. Oh. NO. 

We'll kill the guy. He returns too soon, tries a headfirst slide, pops a gonad and it’s, "Hello Dr. Snipsnip." Forget Gards. Let him heal. Better idea:

Sign Usain Bolt. No kidding. The world's fastest man.

Wait, Bri, put down that rolling pin. OWW! That hurt. OK, I know what you’re thinking: The Oakland A’s tried it with Herb Washington in 1974. The guy couldn’t get a jump, and Mike Marshall picked him off. True. But Herb the Verb stole 31 bases, and that was nearly 40 years ago, back when Olympic sprinters took a whopping 10.4 seconds to plod through a 100-meter dash. That's YESMO compared to Usain, who covers it in 9.6 seconds. Bolt would leave Washington so far behind, he could break the tape and re-tie it by the time Herbie's bus arrives. Usain Bolt won’t need to take a lead. Just give the first base coach a starter's pistol. Usain can get into his crouch and, when the pitcher throws, BAM. He’s at second. BAM, he’s at third. He might steal home, beating Kevin Millwood’s 81-mph fastball to the plate. I'd like to see Josh Beckett looking over at a guy with a starter's pistol in his hand. Cowboy up.

And think of the marketing. This would be like getting Ichiro and then discovering he's a woman. (We are already selling Ichiro Leggos.) Bolt would instantly become the biggest curiosity in world sports. Every time he enters a game, ESPN will cut to it live. Business would halt across America. Bolt is a global phenomenon. How many Usain Bolt Leggo Yankees would we sell?

Think of his affect on pitchers. Do you believe Justin Verlander wants to deal with the fastest man alive on first base? In a one-run game, a pitcher will go nuts when a Yankee draws a walk. They’ll know Bolt is ready, and what a crowd roar when he flashes out of the dugout. The catcher will be terrified. He'll call four pitchouts. They'll only throw fastballs. You better believe they'll groove a few for our hitters. Bolt will energize the Yankees and – Cash, put down the gun and listen to me – we need to energize this team.

OK, I know what you’re thinking: Bolt is a track god. He has no interest in baseball. 

Make an offer. A million bucks for six weeks. Dammit, that’s Pedro Feliciano pay. That's what Jeet spends on clam dip. It’s gotta be a decent payday for Bolt. Plus, you'll make every penny back. You’ll put more fannies in the seats than the ghost of Bill Veeck could have done, even if drawing inspiration from watching "Game of Thrones."  And you'll win a World Series. 

Usain Bolt, the next great Yankee! The fastest Yankee of all-time. Going into Cooperstown with a Yankee cap.

Sign the dash, Cash! Make it fly, Bri. DO IT, AND WE WILL WIN THIS RACE.

First photographs emerge of Yankee braintrust after trade deadline victories

Jubilant brass celebrate after hearing, "Casey Megehee is now a Yankee." Photo flashing on widescreen is first shot of thirdbaseman's shaven chin.

Yank top office goes wild after Ichiro trade is confirmed. In far back left, Brian Cashman (arms extended) is seen wearing fake beard in order to avert stalkers.

Yankee officials celebrate Ichiro, McGehee deals. Unnamed man (above) is pointing to place where 2012 World Series championship flag will be installed in Yankee Mission Control.

Cody Eppley gets clonked;

Supply your own coconut sound effects.

In SUPER YES-MO, we are watching the world collapse

Every day, a new capillary bursts. It's like living in Bill O'Reilly's nose. Last night brought the sick revelation that Austin Jackson is a better CF than the star swoosh- machine we traded him for, which means the two most meaningful prospects our farm system developed in the last 10 years - Ian Kennedy and Jackson - were jetisoned in a trade. Ahh, but that's another Yankeetorial on a day when we all have enough blessed gin in our brains to stare wide-eyed into this gaping maw of hell known as the 2012 Yankees.

Where do I start? When we get decent pitching, we lose 1-0. When we hit, we go down 6-5. Our best days lately come when we do neither, as long as we're playing Seattle. Oh yes, can you imagine where we'd be if not for the no-name-no-hope Seattlittes? We keep assuring ourselves that all is OK: We're still eight up, no, seven up, no, six up, etc -- but we're living on the bubble of a weak AL East. Toronto and Boston are utterly putrid (though amazingly, the Redsocks remain unburied), Baltimore remains a decade away, and Tampa isn't Tampa without Evan Longoria (Uh-oh, who is back.)

Boink. There goes another capillary. It happens whenever Curtis Granderson comes up. Every Grandy Man at bat would qualify as the official Yankees Seven Minutes of Terror, except he's usually done in less than three. It's simple: The Grandy Man fans; oh, the Grandy Man fans. He looks like the crumbcake Detroit jetisoned, the one who couldn't adjust to lefties and who swang for the fences. He's killing us. His fielding has gone south. I don't remember the base he stole. Was George W. Bush President? This isn't a mid-season slump. He's pushing 140 strikeouts on the year. That's not a bad month. That's Matt Nokes. That's a Juan Samuel career-ender.

Juju-wise, we shot our wad last week. We put out an International Juju Intervention and netted only three victories. That's like holding a telethon and getting one free pizza. We cannot keep our family safe and secure, which means we are New York Death. We are stuck in a bad John Travolta movie, and we can't even leave the theater. Yeesh, what are we supposed to escape to? The elections? The economy? The drought? We're watching the Yankees die in YESMO, and the only question is which will go first: Eric Chavez's legs or the polar caps?

I know what you're thinking: Gosh-o-golly, el dukie, it aint so bad. We got that there dune buggy on Mars. And the Higgs thingy. Maybe the scientists can help us. Yeah, right. We now know that time travel is impossible. Because if it were, Alphonso by now would have gone back and plugged Cashman before he made the Fanderson deal.

Boink, there goes another capillary. Gangway, brothers and sisters, this nose, she's about to blow! Somebody grab me a Kleenex.

Make it happen, Cap'n: Jeet's new squeeze link

Derek Jeter's new best friend?

SCIENTIFIC PIE CHART SHOWING EMPIRICAL REASONS WHY YANKS SHOULD STICK WITH IVAN NOVA (Note: Technical jargon may be difficult to non-scientiists)

Joltin' Joe can sleep in grave: Magical Ichiro streak has ended

It's over. It couldn't last forever. But what memories: that slap single against Seattle in his first game, that infield hit in Boston, that dinkler against Baltimore, or the pop that was lost in the sun against Seattle. Wow. Gooseflesh. Just thinking about The Streak makes me wanna make another trade with Seattle. We always do so well...

Over his incredible span, Ichiro amassed 2 RBIs. He didn't walk. Not once. Nosir. Not gonna let some pitcher take the bat out of his paws. Ichiro stole three bases and was thrown out once. That's three for four! And over The Streak, his onbase percentage soared from a meager .288 to a robust .289.

During The Streak, Ichiro twice came to bat five times! That's Horace Clarke territory! (Note: Back in the glory days, The Hoss used to lead the league in At Bats.)

It was hard to lose last night. But not to worry. I sense a new streak starting up, any day now.

Say It Ain't So, 'Ro!

Ichir-0-for-4 lets the 55% down:

Stand by Your Man

In Sunday’s 6-2 victory over the Seattle Mariners, Ichiro got plunked in the back of the knee in the fifth inning on a 2-2 pitch from Hishashi Iwakuma. It was the second time Mariner pitchers hit Ichiro in six games between them (Felix Hernandez hit him in the same game in Seattle that he hit Jeter and put A-Rod on the DL with a broken hand). So that’s twice Seattle pitchers hit Ichiro in six games, versus zero times in his last 335 games against everyone else. And Iwakuma’s pitch sure looked like it was intentionally aimed at Ichiro’s legs.

Ryan and Ichiro: Tit for tat?

Hmmm. Maybe Ichiro wasn’t everyone’s idol in Seattle. Matsui never liked him, either.

On the other hand, what are Ichiro’s new teammates doing to stand up for their new guy, who has done nothing less than play flawless defense and deliver a hit in every game he has played as a Yankee. Well, by golly, they knocked Mariner shortstop Brandon Ryan (.204) out of the rest of the series. Wow. Good thing Don Zimmer didn’t have to depend on these guys. Where’s A.J. Burnett when you need him?

Carl Crawford turning heads in Boston

Redsock superstar looking like old self.

Big Papi still confident that foot will heal

Plucky Redsock Iron Man might get hoof injection.

Yankeetorial: OK, all you AJ Burnett bashers, let's celebrate the magic that is Diego Moreno and Exicardo Cayones

AJ Burnett is killing for Pittsburgh. This weekend, he went 8 2/3 innings to beat Cinncinati, keeping the Pirates afloat in the race. He's 14 and 3. We're paying much of his salary. But cheer up, AJ critics: We didn't just trade him for refried beans. We got Diego Moreno and Exicardo Cayones. And because you were so happy about that trade - REMEMBER HOW DELIGHTED YOU WERE, HOW YOU SAID ANYTHING THAT RIDDED US OF AJ BURNETT WAS A GOOD DEAL? - let's check in with the lower scrubinnies and see how the Titantic Two are faring.
Diego Moreno, 26, a RH pitcher who when coming off the bus must resemble the profile of Bea "Maude" Arthur (6'1, 170 pounds) pitched most of last year in the Florida State League, making him one of the more seasoned veterans of Class A. Last year, Diego went 2-4 with a 3.21 ERA. And that's all we know. This year, he must be playing in some secret Yankee development league, or maybe he has undergone plastic surgery and taken on a new identity, or maybe he's one of those Latino guys who hangs around the pool, singing background folk songs with Zoey Deschanel, because there is no mention of him in the Yankee fossil record.

Exicardo Cayones, 20, alias "the Big Cayones," (6'1, 183) is a LH outfielder at Staten Island. He has one home run, 10 RBIs and a .191 batting average in 107 at bats. Earlier in the year, he was batting high in the order. These days, he bats seventh or eighth. If strikeouts were hits, he'd be soaring over the Mendoza Line. But - hey - he's young! Ya never know! Anything can happen! Can't predict baseball! Who's ta say? Might catch lightning in a bottle! Yesterday's prize is tomorrow's yard sale! That's why they call it kettlecorn! The secret is in the sauce, Dr. Pimento! Oo-gachaka, oo-gachaka...

We saved $4 million this year by dealing AJ. Correction: The owners saved $4 million this year by dealing AJ. The Yankees are valued at $2 billion. Basically, we took that $4 million and resigned Freddy Garcia.  Of course, we also have burned through a pile of minor league free agents - Maine, Figuroa, Ortiz, et al - and we're waiting to see if Ivan Nova has completely collapsed. AJ Burnett would have been our ace. His 14-3 is among the league's best. His 3.21 ERA belies the fact that in his third outing, May 3, he pitched 2.2. innings and gave up 12 earned runs. And his critics sure were cackling then.

AJ Burnett brought cream pies to Yankee walkoff wins. I don't remember a cream pie this year. I don't even remember a walkoff win. (Yeesh, do we have one?) Frankly, we should be lucky that Pittsburgh is in the race. Otherwise, they would have traded AJ at the deadline to one of our rivals -- and they wouldn't have settled for Diego and Exicardo.

To justify that deal takes Big Cayones. Then again, we have him!

(ADVERTISEMENT)

Yank Fans Jump-Start Engine And Head to Detroit

The JU-JU "intervention internationale" is back in effect.

Some fans headed out today from the stadium where their boat was moored.

After today's win, we are motoring again.

Note to vessel;  watch for harbor mines as you enter Detroit waters.

Ichimeter Update

Ichiro "doubled" with none out in the seventh inning, if he can with a straight face call that sun-aided pop fly to short center field a hit.  Joltin' Joe DiMaggio, son of a fisherman, would have thrown it back. Nevertheless:

The New Ichimeter
Ichiro	DiMaggio
12	56

Letter to the Editor: Let performance dictate usage!

Buffalo News (New York)
July 29, 2012

Dear Editor,

The Yankees have lost quite a few games that could have been won without a pitching change. It happened again Sunday in Oakland. It seems manager Joe Girardi often leaves pitchers in too long or takes them out too soon.

Example: A relief pitcher or set-up man comes in and retires the side with no problems. He is removed after one inning and a new pitcher comes in and has trouble. Bingo. A probable win now becomes a loss. Again typical of Sunday's Oakland game in which David Robertson retires the side in the eighth and Rafael Soriano comes in and fails.

Why can't a pitcher who comes in for the seventh or eighth inning remain in if he is obviously performing well? Can't relievers or set-up men go more than one inning? If a pitcher has performed well, leave him in for the next inning. If he shows signs of trouble, then bring in another pitcher.

One-inning pitchers should not be a hard-and-fast rule.

Changes should be made only if the pitcher cannot continue to perform.

Don Weimer

Williamsville

Behold the New Ichimeter

In Seattle, ever since 2004, the season Ichiro broke George Sisler’s 84-year-old MLB record for base hits in a season with 262, a fan in the front row of the right-field stands at Safeco Field brought the Ichimeter, which she increased by one every time Number 51 got another hit.

It is owned by Amy Franz, a Mariners fanatic who has had season tickets since the Kingdome. She even brought it to the Mariners’ opening games in Japan this season. Her original Ichimeter is now in the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, replaced at Safeco with newer ones that fans saw until Ichiro’s last game in Seattle on July 25, 2012.

Franz said she will continue to update her Ichimeter and send out tweets, although they won’t be as frequent because it will be harder for her to track Ichiro in New York. To show his gratitude for her support, before he left Seattle Ichiro autographed Franz’s Ichimeter during batting practice and gave her a high-five. Franz was grateful, but did show Ichiro exactly what she thought of his new team:

Her last Ichimeter has now been replaced with the Ichimeter you see below.

The New Ichimeter
Ichiro	DiMaggio
11	56

Yankeetorial: We lost Saturday's game before it started

This is what we know. Ellen Degeneres will never eat at Chick fil-A. Dick Cheney will never die. And the Yankees will never score a run off Felix Hernandez. Ever. The world will end first. The big bang will run its course, time and space will begin to contract, and all matter - except for Dick Cheney - will be repressurized into a spec that is roughly the size of Rupert Murdoch's heart. And we will still be looking to score one run - just one - off King Felix.

That's OK. Dominating pitchers come and go. Frank Larry used to be known as "the Yankee Killer." The 1961 Yankees, greatest team ever, couldn't hit him with tennis rackets. We've seen Koufax, Gibson, McLain, Palmer, Clemens, blahblahblah all the way to Cliff Lee and Verlander... and now this: King Felix, who not only shuts us out, but hits Arod and puts him out for six weeks.

In that sense, we should be grateful about yesterday's shutout: Felix didn't put anybody on the DL for a month.

But there's something else here. The Yankees yesterday didn't seem to try anything new. They just strode to the plate, took their medicine, and walked back to the dugout. This season, we've heard some sanctimonious lines from Granderson and Teixeira on how they tried to adjust to the overshifts, but it only made matters worse -- so they just returned to swinging away, and it worked out. I get this. It's not easy to change. Both have boosted us to first place. Who can complain? WHO AMONG US HAS A RIGHT TO WHINE ABOUT A TEAM THAT IS IN FIRST?

Me. That's who.

We all know when a Felix Hernandez pitches, we can't touch him. But we don't bunt. We don't steal the base. We don't try to hit to the opposite field. We just lose. Take our cuts and lose.

And everybody knows where this goes on Oct. 4.

If we don't figure out those overshifts, if we don't come to grips with our shortcomings, the playoffs will be short. And Dick Cheney will laugh.

Letter to the editor: Would the world disband the Yankees to save a human life?

Kansas City Star

July 29

Dear Editor,

A July 26 letter tried to explain away Joe Paterno’s actions as keeping “the glorious reputation of its football program clean.”

This is where the disconnect is. Defenders of Paterno’s actions don’t seem to realize this major problem: These institutions are elevated to the point of idol worship. They are put above all else, including the well-being of children.

It’s not just Penn State. People everywhere base their civic pride wholly on the outcome of sports.

Here’s a hypothetical question: If for some reason a person in New York was taken hostage and the demand was to disband the Yankees forever, would authorities do it?

Better yet, how many people would prefer to let one person die for the team? Even one person who would choose the Yankees over a life is too many.

Jeff Kellett

Kansas City

Yankeetorial: Yankees do the right thing with Eric Chavez

Supposedly, the SF Giants sought Eric Chavez before the trade deadline and waved a decent package at us, but we Cliff Lee’ed the deal. It might have saved money next winter when the cheap-obsessed ownership tanks the budget with its Calvin Coolidgesque scheme to cut costs, until Yankee children everywhere are eating oatmeal burgers and cobbling shoes from discarded tires.

Thank God, we said no.

For starters, Eric Chavez last winter signed with the New York Yankees because he wanted to play for the New York Yankees. I’ll take that any day. He made it clear that it would be the Yankees or a retirement scooter in some gated suburb. If we had traded him for the moon – Cliff Lee and Doc Halladay, plus cash – it still would have been a crapola betrayal of trust. If a guy goes the extra mile, you need to meet him there.

It’s a cutthroat business, baseball. And in our worst hours – when we trade a guy and then badmouth him (Melky, AJ, Jesus, et al) – the Yankees are as bad as almost anyone. Well, no. We're never as bad as Boston. In fact, we’re still not in their league. The Redsocks never traded a player who wasn’t a) deadwood, b) done or c) a clubhouse cancer. I wish Joe Paterno had been a Redsock. I'd like to see what they would have done to his statue.

We kept Eric Chavez because he is clearly a class act. Let the record show, at least on this one, we were, too.

Felix in Pinstripes? Never!, He Says

After about 5 innings of flailing at Felix’s changeup (“It defies science,” Mariners shortstop Brendan Ryan insists), Yankee fans stopped waiting for the King to tire and just started drooling, the moisture dripping out of their mouths outflowing the sweat pouring from their brows on this hot, humid afternoon.

Needless to say, afterwards in the Mariners locker room a New York writer asked, “Have you ever thought about being in the other clubhouse here?”

Felix shook his and said: “No.”

“Why not?” the reporter followed up.

Felix smiled. “I’m happy, ” he said.

Eat your hearts out, suckers. As even Casey Stengel knows, you cannot win them all.

Taking On Water Again.

                                                                            



All hands on deck.

The Yankee clipper ship is foundering again.

 They have lost every single game this year decided by one run.  They are 0-37 when trailing after 8 innings.

Is the positive impact of the international JU-JU intervention over?

We won only two games this time?

This is like Fed intervention on our economy.

 The impact is less each time, and the duration of any benefit narrows.

In other words, it is no longer a lethal bullet in the gun.

It is not a solution.

We are going down.

Rivalometer

“[Moving to left field] kind of brings a little bit of excitement to me, to be able to cover more ground.”

"It’s tough to defend the whole field; it’s a big field out there."

Redsocks seeking Bronze Medal in AL East

Boston's Olympians remain two-and-a-half out in their quest for Bronze.

Also, a win today would put the Beantown Nine at the magic .500 mark.

An Improved Floater. Thank you CC.

                                                      Someone please check the gas gauge.

                                    We don't want to get out in open water and find out the tank is empty.

Friday Yankee Grinder of the Night

Curtis Granderson: 20 pitches.

Runners up: Teixeira and Chavez, both with 19.

I've waited a long time for this picture to be relevant, and today is the day

Johnny Damon is looking for a job: Did we blow it by getting Ichiro?

Yesterday, the Indians waived Johnny Damon. The great Johnny Damon. The great Yankee, Johnny Damon.

In a perfect world, we would sign him.

Correction: In a perfect world, he would have never been stuck in Cleveland.

Johnny was hitting .222 with 4 home runs. That's not Johnny Damon. That's Lenn Sakata. It looks like it could be the end. Not only that, but he joins Bobby Abreu and Hideki Matsui as former Yankee LH outfielders cut loose this week. (Abreu from the Dodgers, Godzilla from the Devil Rays.)

All of them, scrapped just days after we scratched our LH LF itch with Ichiro. (Ich with Ichiro, get it? That's wordplay!) Right now, it's hard to imagine why the Yankees would sign any of them. (Well, actually, it's not hard: A couple injuries could do it quickly.) 

I have no desire to see Abreu wear a Yankee uniform. Nothing against the guy, but too many catchable balls hit the wall on his watch. Matsui always will be a great Yankee; I wish there was a way. He had a great Yankee run.

Damon, though, is another matter. I have been an irrational Johnny Damon backer since he refused a trade to the Redsocks during the 2010 pennant race. It was one of those rare moments that only a psycho Yankee fan can appreciate. Here was a player who gave that city and team everything he had - Damon was a key part of the 2004 championship; he hit the grand slam in game seven that killed us. Then the ownership told him to take a hike. They wouldn't pay him what he was worth, and they ran him out of town -- and the fans drank their Kool-aid. (As Yankee fans drank our Kool-aid when we jettisoned AJ Burnett; are you listening, Mustang?) When Damon signed with the Yankees - the most important contract of his life, the one that would guarantee his family financial security - Boston suddenly hated him, reviled him, defaced his image. They suddenly became post-Stalin Russia.

So when the time came in 2010, when they needed a LH bat for a pennant drive against the Yankees, he said no.

I write from a part of the brain known as the medula rizzutongatta. It doesn't always make sense. But that day, Johnny Damon became a lifelong great Yankee. Remember: He is only human being capable of stealing two bases at once.

Yes, we now have Ichiro, a future Hall of Famer. But Johnny Damon will also go into Cooperstown. The expanded rosters are a 27 days away. Sign him, Cash. SIGN HIM, put him on the DL for 15 days, then rehab him for a week. Do something. SIGN JOHNNY DAMON, AND YOU WILL NEVER REGRET IT.

Damn. If only it were a perfect world...

Still Floating, After All these Years

Do we play tonight?  Do we get another bonus win from the intervention?  Stay tuned.

Olympicsatorial: The Chinese badminton team doesn't even know how to throw a game

Clips of the Chinese badminton team this week purposely slapping birdies into the floor are a disgrace, an embarrassment to the great tradition of the Olympics. What a bunch of dorks.

The Olympics ruling committee of international harrumphers rightfully tossed these clods from the vaunted 2012 games, and let's hope their ruthless leaders back in the underground doom castles of China deal with them accordingly - and I don't mean just reddening rumps with ping-pong paddles.

These "actors" have rolled back the art of losing by 100 years. They stand as an affront to the traditions of Shoeless Joe Jackson and the courageous point-shavers from City College in 1951.

Everybody knows that, when called upon to lose, you don't just whack the frickin' birdie into the floor 21 straight times. You volley. It's not that hard. You end up losing 21-19, or whatever the score needs to be. You don't stand there like a lump of clotted bull semen and motionlessly watch the birdie fly past your ear. You dive for it, you twist an ankle, you writhe in pain and you condemn the gods for turning the damn thing in mid-flight, causing your errant return. Jesus Christ, every fourth-grader in America knows this. They don't teach basic human acting in China?

Folks, this is what's wrong with communism. They're raising their kids to be unthinking globs of spit, and when the time comes to deliver, they lose like robot zombies. This was the role of a lifetime: Get in there, give it everything... and come up short. If I were fixing a game, I wouldn't trust anybody from China. I hope that's not a racist statement. I apologize if it offends anybody. But after this debacle, how can you trust any Chinese person to throw a game?

Yankeetorial: Ichiro can't change the Yankees. But could we change him?

Here’s how it plays out in the Brad Pitt movie: It’s the ninth inning of game seven, the 2012 World Series. Yanks down by one. The Giants’ evil Matt Cain – portrayed by a CGI-enhanced Mark Ruffalo - is firing a shutout. Around the globe, children of every ethnicity and Higgs boson-collision-angle hug their electronic devices in rapt attention, as Ichiro – (Brad) - trudges to the plate. Yeesh, he looks old. He’s had a great October, capturing the attention of the world, and even the monster aliens who are monitoring our civilization in outer space. (Touched by the Yankees' heroic campaign, they no longer plan to eradicate us.) Yankee fans weep openly, recalling the final days of Bobby Murcer, or Enos Slaughter, or even Johnny Callison. Ichiro is our last best chance. Here comes the pitch, 100-mph fastball… and the universe stops…

Listen: In Hollywood, we could be "Mighty Ducks V." But in life, we don’t get to game seven unless Joe fixes our RISP problem. Nobody homers their way to the Promised Land. (So the aliens decide, "These Yankee heroes have failed; let's eradicate.") Still, let’s take a moment to honestly assess what Ichiro can and cannot do.

HONEST ASSESSMENT OF WHAT ICHIRO CAN AND CANNOT DO.

1.      When Ichiro switched dugouts in Seattle, every Yankee fan in captivity had the same fantasy analysis: He was bored with the Mariners, and the chance to play meaningful baseball will take 10 years off his swing. Not gonna happen.

2.      Folks couldn’t wait to see that legendary arm – the ball like a proton shooting around a 17-mile buried super-collider and hitting another proton smack in its Playtex Living Girdle. Well, the other night, we saw it. On a crucial throw to the plate that could have saved us a game, Ichiro threw off line and rather buttery. Nick Swisher has a better arm.

3.      Ichiro can still motor. Thus far, he’s beaten out a few DPs. He can probably steal a base or two, but he’s not the mosquito who drives a pitcher batty. He’s not Brett Gardner.

4.      He can reach the right field porch. He’s already hit one. He could hit four or five before the year ends. Woopie. We don’t need another HR hitter.

5.     He’ll do fine in LF. Might not feel comfortable, and let's cross our fingers on a first catchable drive between Ichiro and Grandy. But he’s a defensive upgrade over Raul or Andruw. Not sure he’s better than Dewayne Wise or Darnell McDonald – but he’ll do all right.

6.      He might ride the pines, which could be trouble. One can envision a game seven with Swish in right, Ibanez in left, and Eric Chavez is our DH. He could be a sub. Not sure how he would react to this, but gotta bad feeling.

7.      He doesn’t grind. Ichiro doesn’t draw walks. But here is where every Yankee fan in captivity should consider a different fantasy: Ichiro doesn’t lose 10 years, but he could play 10 years smarter.

OK, THIS IS WHAT I'VE BEEN LEADING TO. ALL THAT OTHER STUFF, FORGET IT. HERE'S THE CONCLUSION... AND I URGE YOU TO PRINT THIS OUT AND SEND IT TO ICHIRO. RENT A SOUND TRUCK AND DRIVE BY HIS HOUSE, READING IT ALOUD. ICHIRO NEEDS TO HEAR THIS. IT MAY NOT ONLY SAVE HIS LIFE, BUT KEEP HUMANITY FROM BEING DESTROYED BY MONSTERS FROM OUTER SPACE:

What if the Yankee mindset rubs off on Ichiro? What if – if instead of being Slappy Suzuki, dribbling grounders to third, he punches foul ball after foul ball, takes at least two pitches before doing anything and starts grinding out walks? Ichiro can lead this team, or at least lead off. He must tweak his game. A .288 on-base percentage won’t cut it.

Here comes the pitch, a 100-mile fastball. Ichiro starts to swing... THEN HOLDS OFF. Ball. High. One and oh. Matt Cain is pissed. He's in our movie now. It’s not Brad Pitt at the plate. It’s Ed Norton. Ichiro needs to change.

GRIND, ICHI, GRIND.

Here come the brides: The Seattle Mariners - who are linked to our hip

Who would have thought the Seattle Mariners would turn into the Yankees' Reverse Flash? Yeesh, everybody on the team is a past or future Yankee. It's like meeting yourself in a crappy time-travel movie.

Of course, we all know the Biblical story of Jesus, Hector and the Pinata. Let's not go there. But in another dimension - one where the Higgs Boson is slightly dimmer and reacts more to the whiskey molecule - Montero is our backup catcher and Ellen Degeneres is working at Chick-Fil-A.

Of course, there is Felix Hernandez, the future Yankee. Write this down: It might not happen until he's 40 and throws like Miss Marple, but he will pitch in Pinstripes. 

Tomorrow night, Kevin Millwood pitches against us. We Scrantoned him last year, while we were drunk on the success of Bartolo and Freddy. He turned into Sidney Ponson. Frankly, I'm surprised he didn't get traded last week. But here he is. And when Andy Pettitte returned this spring, it was Millwood who outpitched him. Ouch.

How about DJ Mitchell? Been watching him for years in the vast Disappearance Machine known as the Yankee farm system. At last, we'll get to see whether our prospects have any future in the majors.

And Chone Figgins. Not a Yankee, but he was a Yankee-killer for all those years in California. Good to see him languish.

Meanwhile, half our outfield is from Seattle: Ichiro and Raul. We've got their old closer, Dave Aardsma, somewhere in rehab. (Healing slowly, I might add.) Freddy, of course. Raphael Soriano started in Seattle. And Tino Martinez - the ultimate connection - could be in the YES booth. 

Wait... isn't there somebody else? Some guy who played third? Alex somethingorother? Yeesh. This is creeping me out.

Order in the Bleachers

Three cheers for Justice Sotomayor!
The “wise Latina” knows what summer break’s for.

She’s not with Dick Cheney, slaughtering birds,
Or at a think-tank retreat with blue-suited nerds.

Sonia got the hell out of Washington quickly
Went up to the Bronx and, not being picky,

Bought a ticket and dog, and hunkered down grinning
In the right field bleachers with a guy named “Bald Vinnie”

She cheered while her Bombers flattened the O’s,
Heckled Zach Britton and lauded Cano.

While it’s doubtful this impacts much of her work,
I think she should hire Bald Vinnie as clerk.

 

Dewayne Wise waived: Has the Curse of the IIH/Lunchables Yankee Employee of the Month returned?

 Yesterday brought sad news. The Yankees jettisoned Dewayne Wise, tossing him back into the sea.

Listen: This was no Darnell McDonald situation. Dewayne hit big home runs for us. He stole bases, ran down flies, pitched, and starred in one of the most memorable moments of the season - the great non-catch in left field.

Gone. Ichiroed. Trade deadline roster move.

Cursed? 

Later today, according to the ancient rules of Yankeedom, we must begin electing Mr. July. But after the fate of Mr. June, should we fear the results? 

Yankee Ship Gets Righted !

Save for a frantic call to the Coast Guard, the Yankee ship would have sunk.

We let the big, expensive one find its way to the bottom of the sea but, thanks to a good hearted and forward thinking owner, we salvaged a floater.

It may take a while to reach shore now, but with light winds and a favorable sea, we can make progress and stay afloat.

As you can see, the margin for error remains small and the risk factors remain high.

Bon voyage.

                                                                            

Yankeetorial: Why is it that the only teams that dealt with us at the trading deadlines are the ones that robbed us last winter?

It's gotta be coincidence. Surely, the Seattle Mariners and Pittsburgh Pirates last week weren't shamed into making deals with the Yankees, considering what happened last winter.

Obviously, other teams will deal with the Yankees. The good people of Toronto and Cleveland always seek to help New York in a pennant race.

Well, at least Brian Cashman knew Seattle would answer the phone. Last winter, he gave them Jesus Montero and Hector Noesi for Michael Pineda, the Venus de Milo of pitchers. When the Mayans wrote their calendar, they were predicting Pineda. He is to Yankee fans as Chick-Fill-A is to Elton John. And when the Mariner secretary says, "Brian Cashman on line one," he won't be sitting on hold for long.

So were the Mariners shamed into intercourse? Is that why they cut loose Ichiro? (Or is he really that bad?)

And what of the Pirates giving us Umphreys McGee? A guilty conscience, perhaps?

Last winter, we gifted AJ Burnett to them. Wrapped him in a bow, left him on the doorstep and rang the bell. Oh, they gave us two low-level munchkins, so low-level you'd need the Hadron Collider to detect them. It was like one of those $1 deals that depressed cities do on vacant housing. Two nights ago - while Ivan Nova was exploding into a million pieces of cotton - AJ threw a one-hitter. We're still paying part of his salary. So when Brian calls, what happens?

Here's a thought:

Brian Cashman: "Hey, Neal, olbuddyolpal! It's Bri. Say, remember that Valentines gift I gave you last winter, and how you said you could never thank me enough for giving you AJ Burnett for a box of Kleenex? Well, I was thinking, maybe there is a way to thank me. Do you guys still have Roberto Clemente? No? How about Xavier Nady? No? Well... how about Umphreys McGee?"

Would Cash say that? Hell, I would. You would, too. It's human nature. And Neal Huntington, the Pittsbugh GM, if he's got any conscience, has to think, "Dammit, Bri needs me! He came through last winter. I can't let him die. We'll give him that Umphreys McGee guy - I can't spell his name anyways. Why not?"

Two deadline trades. Sympathy intercourse? Guilt? Who knows? But it's not a coincidence. There is no such thing as coincidences.

Yo Yankiverse, we did it!!!

Announcing new daily prize:

Yankee Grinder of the Day

Robinson Cano: 30 pitches

What Shall We Engrave For Brandon Laird's Future With The Yankees?

With the Yankees sudden trade to the Pirates, exchanging the highly-sought after Chad (?) Quarles for the third baseman wanted by all 32 (?) mlb teams, the Yankee future for AAA ( the Scranton
 travelers ) gold-glove third baseman, Brandon Laird, is now cast in stone.

Per the usual Yankee approach to their own prospects, Brandon received no consideration once A-Rod went down with his wrist fracture.

  Rather, the Yanks brought up proven failure, Ramiro Pena.  Perfect.  Just what we needed. Another certain out.

Now that they realize Pena can no longer even hit singles, they dealt one of our bullpen aces, for an extra guy on the Pirates.   A team so over-laden with talent ( most of it ex-Yankee ), that they could not find a spot for this .213 hitter.

So let's work together on etching the stone of, " another prospect trashed " for a home grown Yankee.

What shall we put on it?

                                                                            

10, 9, 8, 7, 6.5, 5.5..........

Hey, will someone call the Coast Guard?

I think it might be time to jump ship.

MAYDAY, MAYDAY: WE ARE CALLING FOR AN INTERNATIONAL JUJU INTERVENTION.... TODAY, TODAY, TODAY

ALERT THE MEDIA. (Ok, this is the media,) CALL YOUR FRIENDS. WAKE UP YOUR PARENTS. DRIVE THE STREETS. UNVEIL THE SOUND TRUCK. TELL EVERYBODY YOU GODDAMM KNOW...

IT IS TIME FOR AN INTERNATIONAL JUJU INTERVENTION.

TODAY. THIS AFTERNOON. BOTTOM OF THE SECOND INNING OF THE GAME AGAINST BALTIMORE. (Approximately: 1:35 P.M. E.S.T.)

IN THAT MOMENT, WE MUST CHARGE THE MOUND. MILLIONS OF US. BILLIONS OF US. TRILLIONS OF US. (Hello, China:

费芒德 费芒德)

IN THE SECOND INNING, GO TO THE NEAREST  TV SET, RADIO, CELLPHONE OR ELECTRONIC DEVICE - (In rare cases, people have been known to receive radio transmissions through dental work; in such instances, just stand there and tune into the Yankee game.) CONCENTRATE ALL YOUR LIFE FORCE INTO A WORMHOLE TRANSMISSION FLOWING DIRECTLY TO THE YANKEES.

HELL, YOU'RE NOT GONNA NEED THAT LIFE FORCE. WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO WITH IT, INVENT A CURE FOR THE GOUT? GIVE IT UP, DAMMIT.

WE DID THIS ONCE BEFORE. ON MAY 21, AN INTERNATIONAL JUJU INTERVENTION TURNED AROUND THE YANKEE SEASON. THE TEAM WENT ON A 20-4 STREAK. (Note: But there was a delayed reaction; it didn't take full impact until the following game; it's possible that we won't feel the impact until Friday.) THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT ACTION YOU WILL TAKE AS A YANKEE FAN THIS YEAR, OR MAYBE FOR THE REST OF YOUR MISERABLE, FACELESS YANKEEFAN LIFE. BUT IF YOU DO NOT TAKE PART IN THIS JUJU INTERVENTION, THE YANKEE TEAM WILL CONTINUE TO LOSE, AND YOU WILL HAVE NO RIGHT TO COMPLAIN.

THIS IS NOT AN OPTION. THIS IS REAL. THIS IS SOLID ANECDOTAL SCIENCE. THOSE WHO DISAGREE ALSO SAID THERE WAS NO SUCH THING AS THE HIGGS BOSON. THEY ARE CUBS FANS. THEY ARE FOOLS.

TODAY, WE MAKE HISTORY.

TAKE TO THE STREETS. TAKE TO THE LIVING ROOMS. TAKE TO THE BARS. MEET US IN THE ASTRAL PLANE.

TODAY IS THE DAY WE SAVE THE YANKEES, SAVE THE SEASON, SAVE THE WORLD, SAVE OUR MISERABLE BUTTS.

TODAY. SECOND INNING. BE THERE.

OR BE PREPARED TO SPEND THE REST OF YOUR LIFE ASKING YOURSELF, WTF? HOW COULD I HAVE LET MY TEAM DOWN?