Ninth inning, tying run on second, and we have Headley and Carter...

Why blog? Why bother? It doesn't matter. There's no juju. No juju gods. If there are supernatural entities, obviously, they are powerless, untesticled, low-rent deities with coffee-spotted ties and barber-school haircuts, who have nothing better to do for eternity than fix crummy ballgames. What a bunch of losers! Real gods summon hurricanes, earthquakes, wars. Real gods inspire statues, monuments, legends that last forever. Juju gods - should we call them "gods?" they're more like disposable office temps - can't even redirect a 3-2 curve ball. Sad. These bozo dorks don't deserve tributes. They deserve sympathy. 

Frankly, we shouldn't believe in them. That's how pathetic they have become. I'd hope they are reading this post, but clearly, they don't have internet access, or if they do, it's dial-up. They probably can't afford cell phones. I bet they earn minimum wage, work at cramped cubicles, and their cheap shoes squeak along the halls when they walk to the cafeteria to eat vending machine food, those orange peanut butter sandwich crackers, and breathe fumes from microwave popcorn. I bet there's one urinal duct-taped and broken, and the toilet paper dispenser is wound so tightly that it only releases one lousy tissue at a time. I bet the walls have graffiti scratched deeply into the paint, and while they pee, they see messages such as, "Why are you looking up here? The failed juju is in your hand."

What were we thinking, hoping to lobby these minor league, fake-entity clods and cloddesses? They can't even beat the A's. I bet they can't win us a game at Yankee Stadium tomorrow. If I were an eternal juju god, I would hang myself.

And now, the Yanks and Redsocks are tied in the AL East. Tied. All it took was a six-game wipe-out - one trip to the West Coast - to leave us undressed, sunburned and stranded on the side of the road. We knew this team had issues. We knew the rotation wouldn't hold, that certain middling players were not suddenly going to become all-stars and that 2017 was a rebuilding year - that a true championship run might not happen until 2019. Technically, we're not watching a collapse. We're watching a correction. We're watching reality. And now comes the question we have always dreaded: 

Will the front office do something desperate and stupid?

Will we abandon the future and, like mutts unchained for the first time, chase the milk truck, barking, down the street? 

Today, we have four, maybe five, MLB-ready players in Scranton. Each seemingly has a bright future, and each could probably bring a trade for some Lyle Overbay-type creature, if we decide to pull the death trigger.

Tyler Wade, the SS-IF, is hitting .324. He will probably be the 2017 IL Player of the Year, if it matters. He has 19 stolen bases, too. Could he be worse than Headley? Hard to imagine. Will we get a shot at 3B? Equally doubtful.

Outfielder Clint Frazier has 12 HRs, hitting .256. He's on a course to hit 20 in a park that heavily favors pitchers. He's been hot lately, especially since starting the year in a slump. Will he replace Brett Gardner? Barring injury, no chance. 

Dustin Fowler, the CF, has 10 HRs and it batting .293; he has 11 SB and has improved dramatically, establishing himself as a true prospect. Will he play CF for the Yankees this season? Maybe in September, as a cup of coffee.

Glyber Torres, the all-everything super SS prospect, is 25 for 81 (.309) in Triple A. He hurt his elbow sliding two days ago and is headed for tests. If he's out for a week or two, it almost surely eliminates his chance to play for the Yankees this season. (Unless we're talking September coffee.)

Greg Bird is, well, Greg Bird - two words that are beginning to haunt us. He's 3 for 21 on his rehab, perhaps with a sore knee, and we are losing more hope with each passing day. It could be a lost season.  

Tyler Austin, the OF-1B, is 24 for 79, (.304) but the Yankees have inexplicably decided he's worse than Chris Carter, the strikeout king. I thought Austin was a pleasant surprise last summer, when he hit 5 HRs in 83 at bats - (he hit .241)- including some ninth-inning heroics. Apparently, the Yankees saw something else. They signed Carter to ensure Austin would return to Scranton, and they have never looked back, regardless of the strikeouts. 

Soon, the front office will decide the destiny of these 2017 Yankees. Will they package prospects for a quick-hit pitcher or first-baseman? Or would they do what they did last July - bring up the youngsters, regardless of hurt feelings? The fans want Wade or Torres getting a shot at 3B. But the contract says we play Headley. The fans want Austin or Bird at 1B, but we continue to stick with Carter, who has not just been bad; he's been tormentingly bad. I doubt there's a real god in the heavens who can fix Carter's swing. 

Yesterday, with out in the ninth, Oakland's shortstop threw a ball into the stands, putting the tying run on second. A team of destiny would have made the A's pay. This was the moment we had been waiting for, the chance to end the West Coast swing on a positive note, to return to NYC in sole possession of first place.

Up came Headley. He struck out on a 2-2 count. Then it was Carter, who popped up on the first pitch. Game over. First place, over. Dream, over? Soon, will the Yankee youth movement be over? If so, we can't blame the juju gods. The problem, folks, will be us.

A Little Bit of Both

The following is an apt quote from Joe Girardi's keynote speech yesterday to the  International Global World Tautology Foundation Institute Association:

"Sometimes you worry a little bit more [when you get blown out],” Girardi said. “But when you lose tight games, it probably upsets you even more. It’s kind of a little bit of both."

Right there with ya, Joe.

 

Reasons For Optimism

Go ahead. List them.

Take that, old man: Yanks prove to be disappointments to their dads

Not even a juju intervention helped. (Although there have been incidences of delayed reactions.) 

Are we a good team, or were we just overachieving for a while?

Intervention just in...

Cessa good for 3+ innings, three runs.

Not a bad start.

We May Need A New Early Warning System

In Italy, scientists are studying the idea that certain classes of animals can forecast impending disasters.

The specific focus of the day is the rash of earthquakes Italy has been experiencing in its interior. A recent focus is based around the idea that animal behavior changes before such events, and
that a " warning" ( in the form of altered behavior ) might be able to provide time for thousands of people to avert calamity.

Goats and sheep, for example, living near Mt. Etna have been observed migrating to land areas of high growth vegetation, several hours before serious rumblings or minor eruptions come into evidence.  The goat/sheep theory is that these animals know that the areas of this high and lush vegetation have not been scorched and decimated by previous spewings from the volcano, and, therefore, might represent a " safer place to be."  For a while, at least.

I'm not clear which modified behavioral pattern amounts these farm animals is suggestive of imminent earthquake conditions, but my point holds true:

The Yankees have now experienced their own disaster, and we fans have not been spared a single moment of agony due to forewarning.

Perhaps baseball needs to develop a method of observing change in domestic animal behavior, as a pre-cursor to favorite team losses and losing streaks.  Any lead time, so provided, could help us employ self-deluding and diversionary tactics.

With appropriate warning, for example, we might remove ourselves from access to TV's, radio's and internet during game time situations.  We might create a notebook of activities so personally fulfilling for a 3+ hour period that all our sensory focus is localized and " elsewhere focused'", and baseball easily ignored.

Does any one out there have goats and sheep? And are you willing to watch them often and record their behavior?

More importantly, are you willing to be our sentry, and  provide warnings of abnormal behavior?

I'm thinking the Dutch guy must live near a farm.

It isn't enough simply to pray for rain.

You Will Hear No More From Me.

My use of Ju-Ju worked for a while this season.

I was bitching at everything, and we were winning.

The Dutch girls added to the fun.

This latest experiment, however, has been a catastrophe.

Mixing ugly concoctions, consuming them, and suffering the after-effects.

For what?

Continued, humiliations on the field.

I will silently be part of the international JU-JU intervention, but offer no formulas of my own.

I am sick and tired of forecasting " two run ceiling " games.

I declared the game over, yesterday, at 2-2 in the second inning.

And I was right.

It made me sick.  It was like reliving 2016, and 2015.

I am offering nothing more that will be visible.

Like our bullpen, I have nothing left.

Good luck.

BREAKING... BREAKING... Today, at exactly 5:02 p.m. E.D.T.: INTERNATIONAL JUJU INTERVENTION

Mrs. Peel, we're needed.

BREAKING, BREAKING, BREAKING... 

People of Earth: At exactly 5:02 p.m. - (the "02" signifying Derek Jeter's jersey) - all card-carrying members the worldwide Yankee Juju Stream Intelligentsia are hereby instructed to approach your TVs, computers, radios or dental implant listening devices - aka your conduits for receiving Yankee telepathic transmissions - and project your most powerful Rizzutoplasmic ejaculations and ejections in the estimated direction of Oakland, California.

This may require you to occupy a certain juju chair (aka a sitting device, such as Lazy-Boy recliner, bean bag or milk carton), or stand in a certain strategic corner or closet or - if it works for you - "CHARGE THE MOUND." (Make no mistake: I shall be charging my own personal mound, and if that sounds sexual, it's on you.) The key is to find and use your signature move. Consider "The Lookaway." Whatever your situation, apply your strategy.

Keep in mind that past juju interventions have not always brought instant miracles. In fact, one might have doomed Yangervis Solarte. Still, they generally bring delayed effects. 

BREAKING, IMPORTANT, BREAKING...

INTERNATIONAL JUJU INTERVENTION

TODAY: 5:02 P.M., 

EASTERN DAYLIGHT TIME. 

Soldiers, I'm not going to sugarcoat this. Any time you make a direct appeal to the Juju Gods, you are heading into uncharted territory. Take a look at the fan to your left and then at the fan to your right. By the end of this day, one of them might not be watching the Yankees any more. 

But desperate times call for desperate juju. We simply cannot sit around and watch the 2017 Yankees fold their tents like be-nippled girl scouts. It is time to take action. It is time to make a difference. 

Five In A Row And Counting.......

This is becoming a serious social issue.

Totally slobbered for another day.

Disdain from friends and significant others.

People going on the internet to identify internal damage which might occur from over indulging in alcohol.

One thing of scientific merit:  It is possible that Ju-Ju cannot be used to end a losing streak.

Even Duque never knew the answer to that one..

It was always theoretical or " academic. "

Not so much anymore.  We are pushing the limits and testing the premises.

I do have a philosophical question:  If we lose six games in a row, right after we won six games in a row, do the Yankees really exist?

Is there any point to watching when, in the end, only time passed and nothing happened?

While you formulate your responses, I'm starting with the orange one, (on the far right).

I Told You That You Wouldn't Be Happy

Too much was happening at once, so I remained quiet.

But the force is at work.

Let me just say this;  all those optimists who said Gleyber Torres would be up with the big club before the all star break are wrong.

He won't be playing anywhere for a while.

His season may be on hold.

Follow the news clips.

Sorry.

It's getting biblical

Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?

Injuries. Non-starter starters. Bullpen lugnuttiness. Girardi's choices. Mason Fucking Williams, even. Guys who need a rest (who are in their 20s or early 30s and in better shape than any of us have ever been in in our lives but get tired by preparing for and playing baseball for 5 or so hours every day).

It's a plague of locusts, blood running from our taps, boils on our noses, and the smiting of our first-born cocktail every evening.

Jesus wept, but at least he could
eat a lot of ice cream, get fat and make a couple million in the minors before he buys a beer distributorship. Us, we get nothin'. And when we get fat, all we get is statins and admonishments from our significant others.

These last four games have been curtain-rendingly awful. I used to say we can't always score eight runs to bail out the pitching staff, but now even eight isn't enough. And Mason Fucking Williams.

I mean, what have we done to deserve this? Was it hubris? Is it the God of Steinbrenner testing our faith? If we sacrifice a ram on the site of the old Stadium, will that atone for whatever our sin has been? And if we can't find a Ram, can we use an old Silverado?

Our only hope is that, somehow, we rise from the dead, even though it's been four days instead of three. It simply has to be now, before too much rot sets in.

Master, save us. Just say the warble, and our team shall be healed.

Get Ready For A Bad Day

We have no starter.

Our relievers are done and dusted.

The Yankee line-up would not beat the Railriders in a best of three series.

Oakland is smelling blood in the water, like a great white shark off Long Beach.

As fans, we have a responsibility to remain cheerful and optimistic.

To employ some consistent Ju-Ju .

Today, even the Ju-Ju master might remain awake for the game.

Is the Ju-Ju not working because too few Americans ( and Dutch ) have purchased " Ju-Ju Rules?"

There is still time.

My fear for the day;  Oakland scores in triple digits today.  Establishes a record for the books.

I believe this outcome is just as likely as a modern US Navy Destroyer colliding with a 2017 Japanese container ship, both overloaded with technology so sophisticated and flawless, that it tells you when to fart, much less warns you fifty times when you are on a collision course with an oncoming vessel.

This could be an immense pineapple day, spiky leaves and all.

And What, or Whom, Shall We Pitch today?

Who wants to start this game?

Who wants to come in and hold the lead, if we get one?

Who wants the focus of attention today?

Who wants to depend on Mason Williams, Chris Carter, and Brigadoon to generate runs?

Who wants to watch Gardy take the first two pitches for strikes?

Who wants to watch Torreyes nub that first pitch back to the mound?

Who wants to watch Romine hit line drives to outfielders' gloves?

Who wants to watch Higorishika ( no idea ), again, fail to register a major league hit?

Who wants to lead the charge out of first place?

Who wants to elevate, then dash, our hopes and dreams?

Who wants to bring this dung back to fertilize our garden?

Smug Inc.

At last... a watchable game on the East Coast

Oakland today at 4:05 p.m. 

It's Juju Time!

The Opposite of Hope Week

"I'm saying... I'm saying I... I'm an insect who dreamed he was a man and loved it. But now the dream is over... and the insect is awake... I'm saying, I'll hurt you if you stay.
- Jeff Goldblum, The Fly, 1986

Damn. Somehow, we ended up in a David Cronenberg movie.

Last night in the post-game, that's what Joe sounded like - Goldblum's sci-fi character, Seth Brundle, warning his girlfriend to get out now, before the horror horn starts honking. Joe claimed the team will right itself, that all will be okay. But this is a team that dreamed it was a contender, and now the alarm clock is clanging. The wild card bug inside us is awakening, and the insect voice inside us is yelling, Get out!  

We are now one game up on Boston.

One measly, stupid, crushed mosquito of a game. After all this year's hope and anguish - the rise of Aaron Judge, the fall of Greg Bird, Gardy's epic comeback HR against the Cubs, CC's return, Sanchez' hot streaks, the massacre of Baltimore - after all the peaks and valleys... a stinking, lousy one-game lead? Is that all there is? Is that all there is? If that's all there is, my friends, then let's start dancing. Let's break out the booze and have a ball. If that's all. There is...

Today, we are 5.5 up on the Rays - the Rays! - who at 35-35 are the embodiment of a B-movie clunker. By July 3 - the season midway - we could be in third. After all the successes, we could be adrift in the middle of the pack. A one game lead? Shoot me. And let's face it: Boston here is the underachiever, we're the feel-good Cinderella "Look, ma, pubic hair!" surprise. We're Trump on Nov. 6: We wake up to find we won the election, and now all we gotta do is fulfill the shit-ton of impossible promises we made to get here.

Last night, it was our bullpen. (Make no mistake: No lead is safe.) Tomorrow, it'll be Colonel Mustard with the lead pipe in the conservatory. Last night's lineup - from Brigadoon Refsnyder to Classical Gas Williams - whisked me back to 2013. The bottom third - Romine, Torreyes, Williams - came straight from the year of Vernon and Pronk. 

Last week, Chris Carter batted ninth. Last night, he batted fifth. Jeez, the guy is hitting .215, and you'd think the Babe himself had returned. So Carter homers and fans three times. He has now eight homers and 60 Ks in 149 at bats. And he bats fifth? Dear God. I can see why Oakland felt so empowered. They may stink, but if they look at the opposing lineup being trotted out, they know it's a winnable game. 

Well, we were not supposed to win anything this year. We were supposed to be bugs, squashed on Boston's windshield, until 2019, when the hatchlings take flight. We dreamed we were champions. Now, the dream is over. And here's the truth: They're going to hurt us if we stay.

Four Losses And Counting......

I gave up on this game when we were up by three runs.

Seriously.

I got a text from Mustang asking, " how had we been granted a three run lead?"

I turned the game back on ( thinking it is my watching and/or taping that is killing them ) to see we were up 5-4.

I knew that was not enough.

I knew it was over at that moment.

And I sent a text to Mustang and Duque, but they were both incommunicado.

Up 6-4,  I watched Chasen Shreve walk a guy.

I turned off the tv.  We were done.  That walk was going to kill us.

I see Mason Williams flag at a pitch.  He is going to do nothing.  He doesn't.

I checked in again and we're down one, going into the ninth.

Not to hard to figure what was going to happen then.

Cue the post game show.

We do not have an ace.

We do not have a team that is going anywhere.

I already have a headache from the scorpions.

Today, I am going with a line of flavored martinis.

We'll be out of first place, this time tomorrow.

Tonight, Roger Clemens will be color man in the Redsocks radio booth

USA Today thinks it's a shit thing to do to Redsocks fans. The radio station is a little defensive. I'll be listening; if he says anything roid-ragey, I'll let you know.

Update: Rocket is shy. A man of few words. I keep forgetting he's there. Boring. "Boston has been fairly aggressive on the basepaths." Changing the channel.

Clip and send to Hal: A critical, scientific treatise on how to build the next Yankee dynasty

Over the last few days, a bitter debate has curdled over the Yankees using their 2017 first round pick to draft a pitcher currently healing from Tommy John surgery and - hence - implicitly, convening a trial on whether the front office knows what the fuck it is doing. 

Defenders of the realm quickly pointed to Aaron Judge, whom the Yankees drafted in the first round of 2013, as the most successful pick since Derek Jeter in 1992 and, hence, Exhibit A in the argument that the front office knows what the fuck it is doing.

But in 2013, we had three first-round picks, two received as compensation for free agents who skipped for greener fields. Our first pick, 3B Eric Jagielo, taken 26th overall, later became a key lug nut in the trade that brought us Aroldis Chapman. Jagielo, now 25, is hitting .240 with 5 HRs in Double A. He is not listed among the top 20 Reds prospects.

Judge came as the 32nd choice overall, which we had because the Indians signed Nick Swisher to an Ellsburian, 5-year, beached-whale of a contract. For the 33rd pick, we selected LH Ian Clarkin, now 22, who is sporting a 2.49 ERA at Single A Tampa. Clarkin, who missed a year with a cupcake elbow, came our way because the Nats signed reliever Rafael Soriano, famous for pulling out his jersey after each save. He is now out of baseball.

The point: To win at drafting, it's nice to have extra picks. 

In the NFL, that's how the Patriots do it. But this is MLB. To get an extra sandwich round pick, a team must lose a Type A free agent after making him a qualifying one-year offer. That doesn't happen often. But... it just so happens that this winter, Mr. Michael Pineda will become a free agent, perhaps a Type A, and head for the plush comfort of a long-term deal. We should definitely make him a qualifying offer. If he goes, he might bring us a compensation pick - and once and for all win the Jesus Montero deal.

(I'm not sure how opt-out clauses fit into compensatory picks. If Masahiro Tanaka invokes his contract fine print and leaves, we might get nothing.)

There is another way to accumulate draft picks: the Competitive Balance Round. This relatively new phenomena gives cheap, inept small market teams a free pick - just for being cheap, inept small market teams - which MLB encourages all owners to build. And, naturally, because they are run by cheap, inept, small market owners, these teams can trade those picks.

Somehow, the Yankees must use their deep farm system - which is brimming with top-level talent - not only to get veteran spare parts, but to generate younger prospects. Last fall, that's what they did... sort of.

We traded a promising young OF, Ben Gamel to Seattle for two Rookie League pitchers. We simply had no place for Gamel, the IL's Player of the Year, and would have lost him in the December draft, anyway. This year, Gamel is the one who got away. In 171 at bats, he is hitting .345. with 2 HRs. As for the 19-year-olds we received, Gio Orozco has been cuffed around at Charleston. The other has yet to throw a pitch this year. But they're too young to celebrate or condemn. Frankly, they're on the level of draft picks.

It would be nice if the Yankees - with all the upper-level talent in their system - could trade some of it for a few first-round picks. Come September, we will have a bunch of players in Scranton who either must be traded or protected on the roster. Instead of trading them for extra bats or bullpen lug nuts, let's convert a few into draft picks. I'd happily get get one Aaron Judge every 10 years than five Billy Butlers. 

Three And Counting.....

I am not committed to this.

I will try various approaches and objects until the pain stops.

I didn't want to just show ugly, down and out women, as that is more depressing than losing.

LBJ's analysis of the Ju-Ju laws gave me the opening I needed.

And here is how it works;

1.  Each fan has to identify some smarmy drink, with a long name, like the ones they served at Trader Vicks in NYC ( Singapore Sling, Dancing Mariner, etc ).

2.  You have to drink one for each loss in the losing streak.

3.  For those who can't count;  that means three drinks today.

4.  In one sitting.  With, or without, food ( your choice).

5.  If we lose today, your target for tomorrow is four.

6.  You can read the headline and know the number for the day.

7.  Get it?

I am drinking " Scorpions " today.  Pray for me.

We Have To Double Down

The grave danger now looms that Cashman will pull the trigger on a trade, or two.

That he will play his hand from a huge disadvantage, and get his clock cleaned.

It is time to gamble, yes.

But gamble with the system, not the chips.

What I am trying to say is;  bring up more youth and throw them to the wolves.

There are guys major league ready.  There have to be.

Judge surprised, big time.

Montgomery is hanging in there.

Why not bet on Torres, Fowler, Frazier and Bok Choy?

You know we have to bring up arms, as well.

Do not give away the program, Brian.  Do not go all in, hoping to fill an inside straight.

We will happily go to the barricades with what we have.

If we get rolled over, we get rolled over.

But we gain something.

We don't lose everything.

Bet on the system.  Double down.

I Don't Just Predict. I Also Keep Records.

Guess what, folks?

Your fairy tale is over.

Greg Bird is not coming back.

Sanchez and Aaron Hicks are in the "X-Ray" room, having their damages assessed.

Jacoby, whose head issues are real, is still feeling the effects.   A lengthy rest will bring him back to normal, but he won't be the same player.

And there is another injury looming, not yet publicized.

We don't like to stir things up with rumors, so I'll give it another day or two.

But you won't be happy.

It Is all my fault. It has all been a Lie. There never was any reason to believe.

After spending all night with my attorneys, I learned there is no defense I can use.

We cannot win games where we start out losing.

Ties favor the other team.

Clutch hitting for us is a class 2 felony.

Starting pitching now has one guy whom we dare trust.

That could end today.

The big news guy can strike out endlessly at the wrong time.

Misdemeanors abound.

The penalty is likely jail time and a debilitating fine.

The team is looking old again.

There will be lawsuits on my desk from the latest injuries.

Joy has been replaced by the dire reality of trouble.

Optimism has been crushed by facts.

This is not another day.

What have I done?

Lo! There shalt be an ending, for these are the times that try fans' souls

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Because We Are A Democracy.....

One of our creative blog members has suggested that the Yankee losing streak be photo-supported, just as our recent six game winning streak was.  The idea, of course, is to de-base losing and, therefore, create a turnaround Ju-Ju to re-initiate winning.

A number of photos were submitted to characterize the latest two defeats.  The best of that group, in my view, is the following:

I do have a concern, however.

The Ju-Ju utilized for the winning streak " rewarded" victories ( in the artistic sense), and set the stage for a longer and longer run of victories.  The specific Ju-Ju reference authorizing winning streak extensions ( extracted from our own  "Magna Carta "of  Ju-Ju Rules, penned by El Duque himself ) is found in Section 301.b paragraphs 32, 33;  pages 109-110.

There is no such reference in " Ju-Ju Rules " for photo-supported losing streaks, as far as I know,  and the paragraphs cited above specifically make no reference to this idea at all.  So we shall need a live case, which can then be challenged in court, in order to establish precedent.  Following a court ruling, an amendment to " Ju-Ju Rules "can be applied for and granted.

 This is all highly procedural and expensive. Perhaps we have a cadre of Yankee fan attorneys out there, willing to take this case on a pro bono basis, because it is good for baseball.

In any case, everyone should buy this book, so we are all on a level playing field for discussions such as this.  The Magna Carta of " Ju-Ju Rules" is precedent setting, needless to say.

Morally and ethically, we must also consult the one living, original thinker in the field, El Duque.  The problem here is that he is a bit rigid and, occasionally, resolute.  Getting him to change or modify the " Rules" is tantamount to a constitutional amendment, ruled upon by a supreme court of one, with prejudice.

My personal issue is ( not being a constitutional lawyer) ; what is the context here?

By employing this technique, could we ( without intent or prior knowledge) be accidentally supporting, rather than defeating, an extended losing streak?  What if this turnaround approach encourages more failure, more profound impotence, and more injuries?  Worse, are we giving a bad name to hot dogs and hamburgers?

This is a touchy issue.  I was a judge in a previous lifetime, but this case is way out of my purview.  If you want me to try it, or authorize its initial use, please advise in the comments section.

Your votes will count.  Dutch votes will count.  Hell, Russian votes will count.

There is a game tonight.

Blame It On Bird

I want  you all to meet Greg.

Greg is an Assistant Manager in a discount appliance store in Scranton, Pennsylvania.

He has stories to tell customers about when he was a Rail-rider.  It helped make him salesman of the month, three times, in 2018.

Many are initially skeptical of his background, but then memories start to match up for locals who saw a guy with his name play there.

Greg is also the reason the 2017 Yankee season will not have a happy ending.

He earned all the headlines with a "break-out" spring. A monster hitter with a great glove.

Then he fouls a ball off his foot in a meaningless game in St. Petersburg.  That's baseball.

He knows something is way wrong.  His ankle isn't healing yet he says nothing.

He plays and he fails.  He goes 6-60 and kills about fifty rallies.

I understand that players (rookies especially) want to stay in the big leagues, and try to tough out injuries.

But I hate it.  Hiding an injury is detrimental to the team.

The hot start of Headley (and everyone else) covered up for Bird.  When you win, no one looks at a limping rookie who is supposed to hit, but cannot.

Sadly, the consequence was this;  first base has been an open wound for the Yankees from day one and it remains so.

It is now played by guys who can't hit,  guys who can't catch (with that penguin-foot-like glove), and  guys with no agility.

It has become a non productive, error and miscue factory.

Nearly two months later, Bird is hitting no better at Scranton than he hit here.

I say this;  take a look at Bok Choy (if he has recovered from his injury).

Bring him up.

This weakness is contagious, and is now spreading to our pitching staff.

It is all Bird's fault.

Every loss has his ankle print on it.

If we are forced to make a trade, first base is why it is going to happen.

Another rotten, good-for-nothing West Coast swing

I hate West Coast swings. Nothing good ever happens. (Personal theory: We should blame California, not Canada, for the spawning of Justin Bieber.) The Yanks can be MLB's best team - as they were last week. Send them out to the perfumed shadow of Kim and Kanye, and they crap the futon. Every time. The only positive West Coast swing I can recall came in 2003, when a recently benched Raul Mondesi refused to fly on the Yankee plane. Days later, we dealt him for David Dellucci, Bret Prinz and somebody named Jon-Mark Sprowl. The West Coast ruins everyone. Out there, toilets flush backwards, and people secretly like disco. California gave us kale, 8-Minute Abs videos, piece-of-shit electronics and Jar Jar Binx. Never forget. 

Thus far, only three days into our California nightmare:

1. We have lost CC Sabathia for at least four weeks. Probably six.

2. We have butchered two entirely winnable games against a team that was below .500, a light year behind Houston, without its best player.

3. We have watched Michael Pineda revert to Jeez Montero status, blowing a 4-0 early lead, and reminding us of how quickly our rotation can fray. In a game we desperately needed, following CC's injury, Big Mike floated a turd. (And yes, we can start reassessing the trade again: Montero, now of the Norfolk Tides, is 4 for 18 on the season, after returning from a juicer suspension.) 

4. We have managed to let our bullpen so implode that Joe turned to Ronald Herrera - a rookie starter just up from Double A - in the seventh with the game tied. WTF? I can see the kid used in a blowout or early situation. Debuting with the game on the line? Holy crap, how fried are we?

5. We have watched Boston quietly climb to two games behind us. For the whole first third of the season, they have been playing rope-a-dope.

We now do four against the wretched A's, a team even more miserable than the Angels. Mark my words: Nothing good can come of this. Meanwhile, back in Scranton, Greg Bird is floundering, creating a situation that we thought was impossible: We are actually missing Mark Teixeira's .210 batting average. Four days ago, we ruled everything. Now, we're stuck in a line at Disneyland. It's a small world, after all. Excuse me. I gotta eat my kale.

Stop The Bus. I Want To Get Off !

We have seen enough.

Pineda is a sweaty, out of his mind, failure.

He has totally melted down tonight, and done nothing to justify the trade for Montero.

He gave up that 4 run lead without so much as blinking.

He wild pitched home the go ahead run.

He is leaking like a sieve out there, from every pore and eyeball.

He is not just performing like a loser, he is awful to look at.

He has the shakes and, for a pitcher whose main strength is command, he is walking guys.

His out pitch has become a dirt bomb.

The hard truth is:  this Yankee team has no ace.

An Ace of an Opportunity

I received a postcard, recently, from Jesus Montero.

He has always favored me because I was pretty firm in my position that the Yankees lost the trade that sent him to Seattle for Pineda.

He wishes everyone on this blog well, by the way, and harbors no ill feelings toward his critics.  Jesus always asks me send him a freezer pack of mint-flavored ice cream sandwiches ( which I have been secretly doing ).  Some things never change.

As June 14, 2017 dawns, however, I am looking pretty much out of gas on Jesus' defense that the Yankees got the better half of that trade.  Numbers only lie for a while.

Pineda used to hurt us when he started.  Jesus never hurt us sitting in the minors, trying to learn another position and putting on pounds.  This was my position.

Now we have a true test of who we got in that trade.  And Pineda needs to deliver for the Yankees today. It is not enough that he has a good record.  A dominating win tonight is what differentiates an Ace from a guy having a decent season.

When the team has a flat loss, particularly after a spectacular winning streak, it needs an Ace to put a stop to the bleeding.  An ace has to shut down the opponent, with no mercy, so the team can get back on track. An Ace must stops losing streaks. Like the one we just fell into last night.

Who would have expected that M. Pineda would be in that spot for us?

This is an opportunity no one expected.

We'll be watching closely.

We Have Had To Roll The Deck All The Way Back To Start

We are now pleading to win one game.

Just one.

The last game we played was a loss.

We are currently riding what is known in the trade as, " a negative win streak."

We are not reaching for the moon here.

In a way, we are pleading for something positive to happen.

A helping hand.

If we can just tip the odds in our favor, and record a single victory, we can begin a win streak.

Right now, we are kind of a needy reject, looking for a boost.

We need someone to reach out and pull us off the floor.

No partying, boys, until we win one.

Yanks Crash & Burn as They Return To Form of 2016

The Yankee SST of the past 6 games sputtered, ran out of fuel, and splattered itself all over the 405 last night.

It reminded me of 2016.

Each player waited for one of the big dogs to go deep, and redeem them from shaky play in the field, a looming pitching disaster, and an inability to score more than two runs.

You could see it coming.

Last season, it was a guarantee.

We scratch out a run, maybe two, on combinations of walks and singles  But in the big moments, nothing happens.  No contact is made with the ball with runs in scoring position.  No one thinks of bunting.  Runners are not advanced into ( or from ) scoring position.

Headley returned to form by refusing to do what got him off to the best start of his career;  to hit, or threaten to hit, the opposite way.  Instead, he just bangs into the shift, where his scorcher is casually fielded in short fight field, and he is thrown out.

When we led 1-0, and when we led 2-1, it was obvious to veteran Yankee watchers that this
was a , " two run limit " game.  Evidence took the form of our "Biggest Dog" watching three straight fastballs crease the fat part of the plate. His bat never left his shoulder. I even started to wish Jacoby was back, if only to provide one day's rest to somebody in our outfield.

  It has been a long slog, and fatigue is beginning to set in.

Once the game was tied, I turned it off.  I don't like to watch the Yankees lose., particularly when it is predictable.  When they are impotent.  When they don't even attempt to create anything.  Just everyone swinging for the fences and coming up with air.

Add to that;  we lost a key starter.

So know this:  this team will not win if we don't hit homers.  We cannot win games with two runs, scratched out over 5 innings.

The difference, so far, in 2017, is that the Big Dogs have been running.

Not last night.

Aaron was asleep,  Carter looked like Jesus Montero, and Holliday was on holiday.

We have returned to planet earth.

CC down, what now?

Before last night, the '17 Yankees had shrugged off four key injuries - Didi (month), Bird (six weeks), Sanchez (month) and Ellsbury (to be determined) - like King Kong swatting fighter planes out of the sky. We turned to Torreyes, Carter, Romine and Hicks, without dropping Fay Wray. In the case of Aaron Hicks, Ellsbury may never return as official Yankee CF; he's been replaced, even if nobody says it aloud. 

But last night, the formerly re-emerging CC Sabathia tweaked a hammy, which is probably the size of a mini-van, and today, we will learn the extent of his loss. Quick guess: Six weeks, counting rehab. That would bring him back around July 31, the trade deadline, when presumably we will be hungry for a veteran arm or two. Hopefully, the notion that CC is coming back will give us a reason not to trade for a Chris Capuano or Sidney Ponson. But let's face it: The front office is sniffing a divisional title, and the Gammonites will spend the next six weeks proposing ridiculous - and terrifying - deals.

Once again we face the brutal reality that baseball is pitching, pitching, pitching - (fun fact: eight of our top 10 draft picks over the last two days are RH pitchers) - and every fireballer in the modern era is a stutter-step from the DL, if not a visit to Dr. Andrews. In CC's case, he hasn't pitched a full, healthy season in four years, so we knew he'd miss a month - we had to factor it in, right? So... what now?

Chad Green? Adam Warren? Both play "long man" out of the bullpen, and Joe seems reluctant to change their roles (especially Warren, whose days as a promising future starter can barely be seen in the fossil record. Bryan Mitchell? You'd think he'd get a shot. Whatever happened to him? If not Mitchell, how about a call to Scranton? Here are the latest Railrider stats, ranked by innings pitched (because it's innings we will need): 

I know what you're thinking: Bring up Chance Adams, the 22-year-old wonder boy, with a sterling 2.52 ERA over six starts. But don't overlook Daniel Camarena, 24, and didn't Domingo German, also 24, impress everyone last weekend? Caleb Smith? Before you say, "Meh," keep in mind that he's 25, a big RH from Texas, and he hasn't had a clunker outing since April 30. 

I don't have the answer. But I do believe the solution is in Scranton, waiting for the chance. (No pun intended.) And I also believe the Yankees need to sit Tyler "The Yankee" Clippard for 10 days, because right now, the guy has lost his testosterone pumper. Two recent tough losses - against Toronto and last night - came with Clippard surrendering home runs. It's a long season. He'll get it back, I think. For now though...

Listen: We have one of the deepest minor league systems in baseball, with game-ready pitching prospects at Scranton. No Wally Whitehursts. These are actual up-and-coming pitchers, waiting for a shot. CC is down. That means an opportunity, not a death watch. But we also need a stretch of good health. Because Kong can swat away only so many planes, before he tumbles. 

A Moment For Reflection.

We all know that Greg Bird's failure has been a drag on this team.

I believe, in his youthful exuberance, that Greg " covered up" the extent of his foot injury.  I often commented that it was odd to watch him limp down to first on a sure ground ball out, hit to second.  Baseball players ( except for Cano ) hustle, and Greg is a baseball player.

Finally, the Yankees woke up and realized that his lack of offensive production and his inability to run, were signs that something was wrong.  I mean, was Joe wearing rose colored glasses?  Was Brian not looking?  And where was the doctor hiding, who mis-diagnosed this injury in the first place?  How does that doctor still escape the microscope of journalistic inquiry?

More than a month later ( I think he departed the scene May 2, but don't hold me to that), Greg is finally doing re-hab in minor league games.  But he is still down there and not in Anaheim.

Finally, to my point:

I think we have to give a lot of credit to Chris Carter, and be damned thankful that he is wearing pinstripes.

He has been much better defensively, than we imagined. A league above what we get from sticking Romine there, or Gary or Refsnyder or Holliday.

His offensive numbers , of course, are not what we were programmed to expect from Greg Bird, but Carter has had his moments.  He has generated important runs, leading to victories, and he has prevented numerous errors ( and runs) with a nice glove at first. The power is still there.  He takes walks.  And, sure he strikes out more than average.

But he has been a total professional.  If we had anyone capable  as back-up ( other than in 14 run blow-outs), I would be happy to let Bird spend the season in AAA, and not return until his numbers demand it. I want to see from him, " spring training " numbers, earned in several weeks of AAA competition, before he returns to the big club.   No more excuses.  When he shows up he better deliver.

Chris Carter deserves our respect.  He should not simply be automatically replaced by a younger, "big prospect" player, who has done nothing at the major league level.

Quietly, Chris Carter has proven himself to be an  off-season acquisition we could not have done without.

Welcome to the Yankees.

Six And Counting..... ( imagine this is written in Dutch )

An international, " high six," to the Yankee's win streak.

Thanks to our Dutch ambassador and leader of Yankee fans abroad.

Six beauties from the land of Orange.

Surely this adds a positive dimension to our efforts on the field.

Surely this makes us want a Heineken.

We have a tough outing tonight.

Help make it successful.

Party hearty, boys ( imagine this is written in Dutch ).

Six And Counting.......

We can feel a little better about Tanaka, although I almost choked when he gave up that first inning homer.

For quite a while, last night, the team looked like it was playing one of those games in which two runs is our ceiling.

Some people ( I'll cite Gardner as the icon) just waved and waved at the Angel's pitchers wicked curve balls.

Their 6'9" drink of water has great " stuff" but, thankfully, little command.  Not quite the Big Unit, yet.

But then Aaron Judge woke up from the plane ride.

Suddenly, we sported 5 runs and a late lead.

We could even use Bettances for the purpose for which he was intended.

But there is no rest for the weary.

There is another jamboree tonight.

Party hearty, boys.

In the first round, the Yankees draft Tommy John

Last night, the Al Gore Information Superhighway was jammed with broken heroes over the Yankees' 1st pick in the amateur draft: Slade Melancon-Brackman. Actually, the name is Clarke Schmidt - (yes, he spells "Clarke" as in Horace) - a 21-year-old RH pitcher from the U of South Carolina, which gave us Jordan Montgomery. All would be hunky-dory and higgety-piggety, but for one eency-weency, nip-and-tuck glitch: Schmidt is recovering from elbow surgery and won't throw a salt shaker until mid 2018. 

Hence, Yankee fan outposts exploded into ugly debate - and why not? Everything else in America is sharply divided. Why not meaningless fan forums, too? 

The hateful talk goes along these three philosophical fault lines in the Yankiverse.

1. The current first place team proves the Yankees know what they're doing, so shut the fuck up. This argument is self-explanatory. And, well, it's true. Over the last six years, Yankee critics have been able to point to the on-field monstrosities that were the Yankees and question front office worthiness. Now, we are baseball's greatest success story, and Mr. Cashman deserves praise.

Not only are we leading the AL East, we have a youthful core of rising stars - perhaps the most electrifying player in the game - (whom we drafted, by the way) - and one of baseball's best farm systems. So we picked a guy with a bum elbow. So what? He's getting it fixed. Isn't that better than picking a guy, having him pitch a year, and then have him go down with a bum forepaw? Around July of 2018, we should have both Schmidt and James Kaprieilian throwing in Trenton or Scranton. By 2019, both could be ready for The Show. Weren't we all supposed to be thinking of 2019? By the way, when did you become a pro scout? Did you travel to South Carolina to watch this guy? Do you even own a radar gun? Who the fuck are you to question professional Yankee scouts? GET OUT! GET OFF THIS INTERNET, NOW, BEFORE WE LOOK FOR A SECOND-AMENDMENT SOLUTION!

2. This is madness; we just wasted the 16th pick in the draft on a guy who would have been there in the second round. Are you kidding me? We drafted a kid in rehab? He's probably taking Oxi as we speak. How can you justify this in the first round? There is no such thing as routine surgery. Some pitchers come back, and some simply never are the same. If you want to roll the dice, you do it in the second or third round - not the first. Moreover, nobody is saying this is a case of a top 5 pick dropping to 16th. This was a late first round pick being taken in the mid-first round after - gulp - Tommy John surgery. What gives?

And while were at it: The Yankee front office loves to congratulate itself for success, traditionally long before the final score is tallied. But the brass was pulled kicking and screaming into this youth movement - which is barely into the third month of 2017. Yes, we love Aaron F. Judge, but his induction to Cooperstown is no done deal, no matter how many No. 99 jerseys are being sold. He homered last night - yay - but he is still in his rotation around the league.

And another thing: If we have one of the best farm systems in baseball, it's not because we drafted all that well. It's because we traded Andrew Miller, Aroldis Chapman, Carlos Beltran and Brian McCann - arguably our four best players last July - for prospects. Almost any team in baseball could have done the same. 

And another thing, goddammit! Over the last 10 drafts - going back to Andrew Brackman - our first round picks (with one 6'7," 290-pound exception) have stank out the joint. In 2010, we picked Cito Culver ahead of Noah Sydergard. We took Gerrit Cole despite his stated refusal to sign with us. Slade Heathcott - God bless him - had a multitude of issues. And three years ago, we baffled the world by picking Kyle Holder, a no-bat SS who is still barely hitting his weight. There were consensus, high-ceiling prospects available in each case. We ignored them in order to play the lottery. What's wrong with drafting a consensus, high-ceiling prospect? Do they always have to be rim shots?

And one last thing: If our front office is so god-almighty smart, how come we came within an eyelash of sending Aaron Fucking Judge down to Scranton out of spring training? Remember that? The decision to keep Judge came on the last day of camp, after trial balloons were being floated that he would benefit from more time at Triple A. If we had sent Judge down to Scranton, he could have been demoralized and depressed, and he might still be down there, working his way out of his April slump. And the worst part? The front office would still be congratulating itself for seeing his flaws.

3. They are playing a strategy, and let's see what it is. This might be wishful thinking. I dunno. But maybe - let's hope, anyway - the Yankees plan to use their leverage on Schmidt to spend less in first round slot money. Theoretically, that would allow them to pick a high-ceiling kid later in the draft, and blow him away with an offer. Some have even speculated that they have already reached an agreement with Schmidt; hence the selection.

Of course, this is what they did with Cito Culver, long ago. They picked Cito, so they could shower money on Mason Williams. How did that work out? And then there is another fear: Will they actually have leverage over Schmidt? What if he just holds out - says, fuck you, gimme $3 million. Will they walk away? Jeeze, I donno.

For now, I'm going with door number three. Let's make a deal, folks. 

Oh, and Aaron Fucking Judge did hit another home run last night, winning yet another game. His legend just keeps growing. 

Five And Counting.....

We wrapped up a nice series against the Birds.

The production remains huge.

495 feet for one solo shot.

Plenty of clean looks at Buck, although I want to see his face at the, "moment of impact," so to speak.

Has anyone, ever, seen Buck's eyes?  Is he paid by the "dark glasses" company for "in-game exposure?  A new form of product placement revenue?

Torreyes was a rally-killer yesterday, for both sides ( great defensive play when the game was still a game).

That last pitcher looked pretty good.  Domingo German.  Hopefully, Duque will advise that we should remember his name.  Only 24 years on that arm.

Now the traveling show comes to LA.

Tonight we raid Tanaka.

Put a weird bow in your hair, and get ready to party, boys.