The IT IS HIGH plan to save baseball in 2020

Yesterday, the mayors of NY and LA said they cannot foresee baseball being played in their cities this year. In his daily news conference, President Trump lamented the need for games that "are not 14-years-old." 

The reality is that, until a vaccine is available, fans cannot be packed into stadiums, and well-intentioned plans for "bubble" leagues in Arizona and Florida suffer too many complications.

What can America do to save the national pastime?

Relax, everybody, I got this. Here's the 7-point plan: 

1. Ditch the traditional 30-team season until mid-2021.

2. Siphon from MLB rosters four "all-star" teams - the Reds, Blues, Greens and Purples. They will reflect regions of the country - the Northeast, the South, the Midwest and the West Coast. 

3. Players will be paid according to a scale negotiated by the union and owners, reflecting TV revenues for a reduced season.

4. The four richest men in America - Jeff Bezos, Mark Zuckerberg, Warren Buffet and Bill Gates - will "own" the teams. Each multi-billionaire can manage on the field or hand the games to celebrity surrogates, such as A-Rod and Jared Kushner. 

5. The four teams will face off every Saturday and Sunday, with two games played each day, over a 21-week season. Games will move from city to city, played in near-empty stadiums, before a few hundred socially-distanced fans, chosen by lottery.

6. Rosters will continually be updated, with the billionaires adding stars and subtracting injured or under-performing players. Those players will be scapegoated in daily briefings by the President.

7. The winning region will receive meat, electric power and medical supplies. The losing region can wait to be saved by Jennifer Lawrence.

Virtual Yanks Get Away With One on Get Away Day in Texas. Stanton Tracked in the Desert.

The Virtual Yankees managed to pull out a wild one in Arlington on the last day of their three-game set against the Texas Rangers, winning 10-9 in 11 innings.

New York's much-ballyhooed free agent, Gerrit Cole, was hit hard for the first time all season.  Texas second-sacker Rougned Odor connected for a grand-slam against Cole, and he was also touched for a long home run by rookie Steele Walker.

Cole, who was seen to repeatedly grasp his right shoulder and wince while out on the mound, denied that there was anything seriously the matter with his arm, and said he would just ice it and consult with team physicians when the Yankees made it back to New York.

Put in a 6-1 hole early on, the Yanks rallied on some timely hitting from Mike "Walkie" Tauchman, making his first start on the season, Gio Urshela, and Luke Voit, who has been largely overshadowed at first this season by Mike "Blimpie" Ford.

Urshela had a crucial, ground-rule double to tie the game at 7-7 in the top of the eighth, while also making several outstanding plays in the field.  Tauchman hit two triples, stole a base, and robbed Elvis Andrus of a home run with a great catch above the wall in left.  But it was Luke Voit's two-run bomb that gave the Yanks what proved to be an insurmountable, 10-8 lead in the 11th.

Tommy Kahnle managed to make Voit's bomb stand up, despite surrendering what was ruled an inside-the-park home run by Shin-Soo Choo.

Choo's ball rolled all the way to the wall after Estevan Florial, making just his second start as a Yankee, tried to make a shoestring catch and failed.

Florial had a tough day at the office, also going 0-7 with five strikeouts.

"I'm not worried about that kid," Manager Ma Boone said afterwards. "That one—he's got a high ceiling."

Asked about Cole's arm discomfort, Boone replied, "What, his arm's bothering him?  Huh."

Meanwhile, the Yankees reported that state police in New Mexico were hot on the trail of missing slugger Giancarlo Stanton, who was last seen wandering into a desert there.  Police reported that after a short distance, Stanton's footprints were replaced by hoof prints, before a sirocco blew away any trace of them.

"That says to us that he has apparently employed the services of a large, load-bearing quadruped," Yankees GM Brian Cashman said from the darkened room in the bowels of Yankee Stadium, where he is recovering after a pigeon scare the day before.

"Either that—or somehow, he has changed into a horse!  My God, do you think such a thing is possible?  What sort of world is it we're living in today???" Cashman continued, before Yankees creature Lonn Trost abruptly ended the press conference.

Plague Theater: Don Mattingly, impressionist

I had to watch this five times to fully appreciate it.

Did the Post just publish the most honest appraisal yet of Trump?

Today, the NY Post Photoshopped a bizarre front page of Trump. I studied it for several minutes, trying to figure out why it gnawed at me. 

Then I remembered a photo from the Yankees' distant past.

And there it is, folks:

Donald Trump is George Steinbrenner. 

Of course, it was always this way...

The constant turnover of assistants.

The insatiable thirst for attention.

The bluster and bombast, the micro-management. 

The need to always win now, right now. 

When things are going good, everything is great. 

And when things go south, dear God...

Dear God.

The man who could have been Boss

Today, let us ponder the long, personal journey of Hank Steinbrenner.

The Times obit:

Asked why he preferred to be around horses more than players, Hank said, “Because the horses don’t talk back...” 

Billy Madden at the Daily News: 

Everybody liked Hank because he was not afraid to take jabs at his father and because there were no airs about him. He was anything but the prototypical rich man’s kid. He always wore a sport jacket, but almost never wore a tie. A chain smoker, there was a quiet intensity about him... The breaking point in ‘86, he would later say, was when, over the fervid objections of Woodward and Piniella, the Boss traded the Yankees’ No. 1 pitching prospect, Doug Drabek, to the Pirates for Rick Rhoden, a pitcher nine years his senior.

Tampa Bay Times.

“Maybe at times I’ll shoot from the hip too much,” Hank Steinbrenner said in a 2008 Tampa Bay Times story. “And that’s an influence from my day. But the biggest thing I learned from (his father) is winning.”

Bob Nightengale at USA Today.

He was bombastic, just like his father. There was no filter, just like his father. You want his opinion, well, you better not be afraid of the answer. Maybe the baseball world wasn’t ready for Hank Steinbrenner, and he ultimately decided to silence himself, but for almost a year in 2008 when he was vocal, exercising his authority for everyone to hear, man was he fun to be around.

An old friend and Redsock fan, now deceased, used to bombard me with dumpy, chain-smoker photos of Hank, his way of mocking the Yankees. Back then, it seemed a foregone conclusion that old George would hand down the team to his first-born son, a temperamental doppelganger, who would continue the tradition of shredding managers, overpaying for stars, and spewing rage quotes like tap water. The Yankees would be run by a colorful dullard, and fans would spend the next decade tearing out our hair - except for when we won. Somewhere out there, that Yankiverse exists...

Let's give Hank credit. He was smart enough to see that future and get out. To this day, I cannot summon one bad thought about him. He remained genuine, while the Yankees became a dead corporate machine, and - in terms of winning championships - a run-of-the-mill MLB franchise. 

But today, I wish no bad thoughts upon Hal Steinbrenner, as well. He's lost a brother, and it looks as though the Yankees will lose their best chance at winning a championship in the last 10 years. The pandemic has a way of tamping down my outrage, and I hope it does yours, as well. If we're going to live to see another Yankee World Series, maybe this is time to get along.

I cannot help but wonder how the team would have fared if Hank had stayed. Still, I'm glad he jumped ship. He seems to have lived a happy life. May we all possess the forethought and courage to do the same. 

Stay safe, everybody. We are going to be reading many more obits. It's the twilight of the gods... 

Virtual Yanks Show Rangers Who's King. Stanton In the Wilderness.

In tonight's virtual baseball, the Yankees got another outstanding six innings from rookie Mike King, whose feather-soft stuff eluded the Texas Rangers.  King allowed just two earned runs and struck out eight, as the Yanks moved to 12-6 on the season with a 7-2 win.

Leading the hit parade were Miguel "El Matador" Andujar and Clint Frazier, who both homered.  After the game, Frazier announced that he was no longer speaking to the press until they stopped asking him to name his cats.

Mike Ford also had an outstanding night at the plate, reaching base five times on three singles and two walks.  He celebrated in the clubhouse afterwards with an extra Double Big Mac.

Meanwhile, the elusive slugger Giancarlo Stanton remained at large.  Stanton, last seen moving through woodlands with a large-footed, hairy individual of approximately eight feet in height, was later spotted heading out into the New Mexico desert.

"We are very alarmed about what he is going to do for water," Brian Cashman, who spent all day frantically working the phones to Lloyd's of London told the press afterwards.  "And about our premiums."

For Cashman, it was his first outside news conference since he narrowly survived an attack by an Albanian eagle, in a lizard misrecognition incident.

Cashmere told reporters that he has now fully recovered, physically and mentally, from the attack.  When a nearby pigeon swooped in suddenly to scoop up a loose piece of a delicious Yankee Stadium RatDog, however, Cashman screamed, covered his head with hands, and threw himself into a fetal position on the ground.

He was later helped back to his office by longtime Yankees creatures Randy Levine and Lonn Trost.

Salutation

On April 14, 1955, 65 years ago, Elston Howard entered a major-league game as the first (known) African-American player for the New York Yankees.

This is a little belated, unfortunately, because I only just learned about it.  But (almost) on this day, Howard replaced Irv Noren in left field, in the sixth inning of an 8-4 loss to the Red Sox up in Fenway Park.  In his first major-league at-bat, Howard singled off Willard Nixon to drive in Mickey Mantle.

The Yankees were not, contrary to rumor, the next-to-last team to bring up or sign a black player.  The Phillies, Tigers, and (heh-heh) Red Sox all came even later.  But it was still pretty inexcusable.

Howard got the nod mostly because Yankees general manager George Weiss had run out of excuses, particularly when it came to Howard's impeccable character and good humor.  Nonetheless, their foot-dragging probably cost Ellie a good 4-5 years of major-league ball—and a possible shot at the Hall of Fame.  He got to the Bronx only after a stint on the legendary Kansas City Monarchs, and then a long slog through the Yanks' system that culminated with him hitting .330 in Triple-A.

Playing on the Yankees, and behind Yogi Berra, cost Howard more at-bats but he never complained, filling in wherever he could.  He made a catch in left field that helped save the 1958 World Series for the Yanks, and in 1961—finally the starting catcher—he batted a career-high .348.

Howard became the first black MVP in the American League in 1963 (There had already been 9 in the NL.), won the Gold Glove in 1963-64, and had the highest lifetime fielding percentage of any catcher, ever, from 1967-1973.  Finishing out his career with the Sox and the "Impossible Dream" team of 1967, he became only the sixth—and last—man ever to play in ten or more World Series.

(Fun facts:  Howard also came up with the on-deck "doughnut" that meant players did not have to swing multiple bats.  He also used a sharpened shinguard to cut the baseball for Whitey Ford in his later years.)

The first black coach in the American League as well, Ellie died of a longstanding heart condition in 1980, aged just 51.  Red Smith wrote that "The Yankees' organization lost more class over the weekend than George Steinbrenner could buy in ten years."

Howard danced about with a broom at his after-school job when he heard that Jackie Robinson was signed by the Dodgers, knowing that he would have a shot at the majors.  On the Yankees, he had to endure the casual, old-school racism of Casey Stengel, who called him "Eight-ball," and occasionally groused that "when I finally got one, I got the only one who can't run."

But he endured, as he always would, and triumphed.  His Yankees teammates, at least, reportedly welcomed him with open arms, spreading the traditional carpet of towels to his locker after his first home run.

Howard himself reported that Phil Rizzuto, especially, went out of his way to look out for him, taking him around to restaurants and other hotspots while on the road, and showing him the ropes.

His number, 32, was retired by the Yankees in 1984.

Plague Theater: Donnie Baseball sells Coke

I like the long-johns reference.

RIP Hank Steinbrenner

Yes, I keep a coffee mug with a quote from Hank Steinbrenner on my desk.

Doesn't everyone?

Hank Steinbrenner dies at age 63

Who need editor? Yankee "Aaron Hick" give update

Yesterday, Yankee player Aaron Hick told some things to the YES Network, saying that things are going good, that Hick is swinging bat, using regular both bat and fungo thing, and that "things have been moving along smoothly." 

That is some really good stuff for Hick, who playered in 59 games last year because he hurt some things, twice, and then he returned for the playoffs, and then in the playoffs, he hurt his elbow doing something, and now he is now expected to be sitting on his can until July, around when everything is all heeled and really good again, so he can once again "take the field!"

Asked what he does every day, Hick said he does his exercises every day and, "Then I go... back home and just hang out and watch TV and just relax." And like I said, that's some really good stuff for Hick and all the Yankees peoples, who need everything to be heeled and really good again in order to have "a winning team!" 

Virtual Yankees, Monty Bombed and Strafed in Texas. Stanton Still Missing.

The virtual New York Yankees dropped to 11-6 today, four games behind the red-hot Rays, as Jordan Montgomery, making his second start of the season, was blitzkrieged by the Texas Rangers, 8-3, in Arlington.

Monty was hit early and often, surrendering long home runs in each of the first three innings and failing to finish five complete.  The main Yankees highlight was provided by D.J. "Mr. Perfect" LeMahieu, who hit a hustle-double, stole third, then scored on a slow groundout by Estevan Florial, starting his first game a a Yankee.

Despite chalking up his first major-league RBI, Florial was 0-4.

"I'm not worried about that kid," Manager Ma Boone said afterwards.  "He has a high ceiling."

Meanwhile, worry increased as to the whereabouts of consistently absent slugger Giancarlo Stanton.

The Yankee "outfielder" was reportedly sighted loping along a deep forest trail in northern New Mexico yesterday, alongside an eight-foot-high creature covered completely in fur and looking like a cross between a man, an ape, and a bear.

("The creature, not Mr. Stanton," New Mexico state police specified.)

It was also reported to have exceedingly large feet.

"We're just glad that Giancarlo has found companionship in the wilderness," Yankees GM Brian Cashman told reporters at a press conference assembled around his hospital bed, where he is still recuperating from a lizard-misrecognition accident.  "From what we understand, he is headed in the direction of Arlington, which is a good sign, and the size of his friend is intriguing.  Maybe we can talk him into a workout if and when they both arrive at the ballpark."

Today marked the 17th consecutive day that no Yankee was reinjured while in rehab, something Cashman termed, "a significant milestone."

Plague Theater: Mickey's 500th

No, it doesn't seem like yesterday.

Then again, neither does yesterday.

In market-stabllizing move towards normalcy, Jose Canseco attacks A-Rod

Relax, everybody. The economy is dead, the virus is raging, tornadoes are ripping the south, but one great bellwether of American wacko-hubris remains stable: 

Jose Canseco still hates A-Rod.

This is baseball's version of the Tiger King, with a dollop of Sunset Boulevard. Imagine Canseco, now 55, pacing the concrete floor of his self-quarantine bunker, drinking Joe Weider protein shakes, zoom-chatting with Putin and Lenny Dykstra like super-villains plotting to kill Batman - and he still makes time to take a swing at our beloved national treasure.

These days, isn't everyone supposed to love A-Rod? Trump phoned him to talk about the virus. This weekend, he appeared on MSNBC, talking about about his love for baseball, his love for humanity, and his love for the last episode of Ozark. Nobody mentioned Jose.

My favorite part of their ongoing feud is Canseco's challenge to fight A-Rod in the Octagon. This, for me, is reason to live.

Thank you, sir.

Virtual Baseball: Yanks Thump A's; Stanton Still in Wilderness.

The Virtual New York Yankees today took the rubber game of their Easter weekend set against the Oakland Athletics, 13-5, but the Yanks and their fans grew increasingly concerned over the whereabouts of slugger Giancarlo Stanton.

The Yanks fell behind early today, with undefeated J.A. Happ on the mound.  Happ looked lethargic in the opening frames, surrendering a two-run blast to former Yank Dustin Fowler, and a run-scoring double to also former Yank Jorge Mateo.

But the Yankees' starter settled down and turned in eight strong innings, apparently incensed after Oakland fans started chanting, "Happ, Happ/ Look at that crap/ He can't find the plate with a Google map."

"I don't know what it is about my name, but I wish people would stop with these stupid rhymes," a still angry Happ said after the contest.  "Just quit it already."

The Bombers bounced back ,buoyed by a long, three-run homer from Clint Frazier, a bases-clearing triple from Brett Gardner, and a rare, non-avian dinger from Gleyber Torres.  D.J. LeMahieu had three more hits, and played magnificently in the field.

Afterwards, though, the Yankees and their manager were preoccupied by the latest reports out of Colorado.  Rescuer workers in the Rockies have succeeded in locating the train that Giancarlo Stanton was taking to Oakland, Amtrak's "Donner Party," which was derailed after a bridge washout.

All of the passengers were reported to be safe and sound—save for Stanton, who witnesses said refused to wait on relief efforts.  

"He just up an' said, 'Dang it, fellas, point me to Texas,' an' walked off into the wilderness," an old-timey prospector who led rescuers to the train recounted, amidst copious amounts of spitting  "I told him it might take him a spell to get there, but he said he didn't care.  Said it would be a journey of self-discovery, if nuthin' else.  Whatever the fuck that means."

Arlington, Texas is, indeed, the site of the Yankees' next scheduled game, but club officials were skeptical that the outfielder could make it there by Monday.  They also remained skeptical that Stanton could play the outfield.  

Plague Theater: Turkish Superman

Plague Theater: Yogi sells Camels

But only because they taste good.

Time to board the Seoul Train: South Korea launches spring exhibitions in 10 days

That was the week that was. It's over, let it go. Oh, what a week it was...

Did you know that neanderthals made string? I didn't, until last week. 

Did you know that Lady Gaga wears glasses?* I didn't, until last week.

(*Note: In longstanding celeb tradition, Lady wears specs when being intellectual.) 

Did you know the virus kills people under age 25? The governor of Florida didn't, until last week.

Now comes the kicker: Did you know we may soon have baseball again? I didn't, until today!

The South Korean Baseball Organization has resumed workouts and plans to re-launch its exhibition season April 21 - only two Netfix binges from Tuesday. In recent KBO intra-squad games - I swear I'm not making this up - some players wear masks. This I gotta see.

Today's Gray Lady reports concerns about the re-start. Though South Korea has reduced the number of new coronavirus cases to just 64 - (that's nationwide, mind you) - nobody knows if the relaunch can work. All players remain quarantined. Before hitting the field, their temperatures are taken. One outbreak could sink the season. Basically, this experiment will dictate whether MLB can play in 2020. 

But here's the takeaway: Any games, however weird, are still baseball. 

The crack of the bat! The whoosh of a slide! The flump of a fastball hitting ribs! And the wheedle of commentators as we each pick our favorite team. Here's how the KBO finished 2019.

Who should we support? This is no easy choice. Way I see it, the Twins, Bears, Tigers, Giants, Lions and Eagles - because of their namesake affiliation with U.S. franchises - should be disqualified. That leaves the Wiz, Dinos, Heroes and Wyverns as our potential house team.

I am open to suggestions. Many of us are Dinos. We consider ourselves Heroes. I have no idea what a Wyvern is. Right now, I'm leaning toward the KT Wiz, in part because they have a 19-year-old slugger named Baek-ho Kang, who hit .336 last year. A budding star the Yankees could sign? Nobody beats the Wiz, right? 

Hold onto your masks, comrades. We may soon have baseball after all. 

Virtual Baseball: Yanks Rally to Nip A's. Stanton Train Missing in Washout.

The Virtual New York Yankees today rallied to beat the Oakland Athletics, 7-6, in a spirited contest at the Thunderdome.

Yanks starter Masahiro Tanaka suffered his first rough outing of season, giving up five runs in just four innings.  It looked as though Tanaka might be removed from the game when a ligament from his right arm fell out on the pitching rubber, but the Japanese hurler simply stuffed it back into his soupbone and continued.  Home plate umpire Joe West called Tanaka for a balk.

The game was decided when Miguel "El Matador" Andujar and D.J. LeMahieu hit back-to-back triples in the top of the ninth.  It was the fourth hit of the afternoon for LeMahieu, who continues to lead the young season in batting with a .385 average.

"The General's" hit only tied the game, but he subsequently scored what proved to be the winning run on a squeeze bunt by Brett Gardner.

In the bottom of the ninth, Oakland seemed on the verge of knotting the score again, but El Matador Andujar gunned down former Yankee Dustin Fowler, after Fowler led off the ninth with a single against Sweats Chapman and stole second.  Trying to score on a single by former Yankee Jorge Mateo, he was just nailed at home by Andujar's peg to the plate.

In other Yankees news today, the Amtrak passenger train, "Donner Party," carrying reformed slugger Giancarlo Stanton to Oakland, was reported missing after a flash flood and bridge washout in the Rockies.

With no word on Stanton's whereabouts, Yankees GM Brian Cashman, still recuperating from a lizard mis-recognition accident, called up centerfielder Estevan Florial to the big team.  Floral was batting .176 with no extra-base hits and 1 RBI for the Trenton Thunder, but is still consider the Yanks' no. 2 prospect.

Esteval is believed to have a high ceiling.

Plague Theater: Mickey Mantle sells cereal

Dick Groat for Eddie Matthews? Tough trade.

The proposed realignment of teams looks like a practical joke

According to the Internet, MLB is pondering a bizarre divisional setup for the increasingly endangered 2020 season. Here's the proposal, as floated in the latest round of ether.

GRAPEFRUIT LEAGUE

• NORTH: New York Yankees, Philadelphia Phillies, Toronto Blue Jays, Detroit Tigers, Pittsburgh Pirates.
  
• SOUTH: Boston Red Sox, Minnesota Twins, Atlanta Braves, Tampa Bay Rays, Baltimore Orioles.
  
• EAST: Washington Nationals, Houston Astros, New York Mets, St. Louis Cardinals, Miami Marlins.

CACTUS LEAGUE

• NORTHEAST: Chicago Cubs, San Francisco Giants, Arizona Diamondbacks, Colorado Rockies, Oakland Athletics.
  
• WEST: Los Angeles Dodgers, Chicago White Sox, Cincinnati Reds, Cleveland Indians, Los Angeles Angels.
  
• NORTHWEST: Milwaukee Brewers, San Diego Padres, Seattle Mariners, Texas Rangers, Kansas City Royals.
• 
  

Zoiks. You can argue that anything is better than nothing. But at first glance, this looks flat-out batty. Of course, it's based entirely on where teams play spring training. After that, nothing makes sense. Some cocktail napkin observations: 

Tampa doesn't even get to play in its own town. Do the Yankees become Tampa's home team? 

The Yankee-Redsock rivalry goes down the tubes, along with the Cubs-Cards and Giants-Dodgers. 

Gleyber Torres won't get to hit 20 home runs against the Orioles.

Considering that MLB would surely play a short season, you wonder if six divisions are necessary.

Again, anything is probably better than nothing. But the biggest conclusion from this plan is the daunting task of creating a season on the fly. 

Virtual Baseball: Jet-Lagged Yanks Fall in Oakland. Stanton Taking Train.

A jet-lagged Yankees team staggered into Oakland today and saw its Virtual Reality winning streak come to an end.  Playing as though they were still dead drunk in first class, the Yanks committed three errors, and lost 3-2 to the Athletics in their weird, spooky, Thunderdome-like stadium.

Gerrit Cole took the loss, though the blame fell mostly on catcher Gary Sanchez.  While Sanchez hit two tape-measure home runs into the vastness of Oakland-Alameda County Colossal Coliseum, his back-to-back passed balls let two runs score in the sixth inning, tagging Cole with the loss.

Asked if this was a sign that his trouble handling pitches was back, Sanchez told reporters, "Go fuck yourselves!  I was exactly at par today:  two runs in, two runs out."

The Yanks dropped to 9-5 on a less-than-good Friday.

Meanwhile, the increasingly eccentric slugger Giancarlo Stanton, who has to play a game this season, refused to take the team plane to Oakland, saying that he wanted to shrink his carbon footprint.

Stanton took Amtrak instead, citing its carbon bang-for-buck, and also the train service's reputation for outstanding food.  He is expected to arrive in Oakland by Sunday, the day of the team's last game there.

JuJu During Corona

Meanwhile, back at the JuJu baseball gods' warehouse, things are not good.  Never a nice place to work, it's worse than ever now that their evil bosses, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, are off joyriding around the planet.

The only face masks available are the bandanas recommended by the CDC.  For gloves, they are wearing the catchers mitts of obscure Yankees receivers:  Jake Gibbs, Bob Tillman, Frank Fernandez, Ellie Rodriguez, Charlie Sands, John Ellis.

Ventilators?  You want ventilators?  All they have are converted hookahs.

And the toilet paper?  That ran out weeks ago.  They're down to their most beloved scorecards of Great Yankee Pineapples.  Game 7 of the 2001 World Series went last Thursday.  Now they're starting on the 2004 ALCS.

There is nothing to do, no one to bother.  Even Indians fans are leading balanced, reasonably happy lives these days.  Isolation?  Quarantine?  Death?  It still doesn't compare to your average baseball season in Cleveland.

The Juju gods are now on their 5000th, Strat-o-matic replay of the 1998 season, and they still can't get that Yankees below 104 wins.  They've even played 1,250 seasons in which the Yanks win at least 120 games.  

The only Indian takeout place gives them food poisoning, every time.  There's no dog to walk, only a pangolin.  Somebody accidentally erased their recording of Altuve's walkoff homer from last year in favor of a Martha Stewart rerun, and they're getting bored to death even watching Mazeroski waltz around the bases.

They've been gathering up whole boxes full of scorpions, cacti, snakes, diseased gerbils, and other desert vermin for the proposed Arizona league.  But when is that going to come off?

And even for Juju gods, what good is baseball without an audience?  If a pineapple happens in an empty stadium, can anyone hear you scream?

Back to the canasta set, with the three missing cards.  Back to the game of War that just won't end, and the stalemates in Risk and Monopoly, and what the hell happened to the Parcheesi set?

Back to another can of refried beans.  No one to torment, no one's hopes to raise—and then dash.

Baseball.  Even the worst gods can't do without it.

Correcting ESPN.

Usually, I don't go in for throwing shade on our lowly competitors, such as the ethically compromised, ever more boring ESPN.  (Even before the Sports Apocalypse, it was in a death spiral, in my oh-so-humble opinion.)

But reporting that THIS is the day the New York Yankees became the New York Yankees is beyond the Pale.

It is not true, and cannot be allowed to stand.

The truth:  in the early days of baseball, team nicknames were very fluid and changeable, often created just to serve headline writers.

The Brooklyn team was called the "Bridegrooms" one year because a lot of the players got married in the off-season.  Later, they were the "Superbas" because the manager was the famous Ned Hanlon, and there was a popular vaudeville troupe called "Hanlon's Superbas."

Later they became the "Robins" after Mgr. Wilbert Robinson (and to the end of their stay in Brooklyn, the team was often referred to as "the Flock" in headlines).

Same thing for your New York Yankees.

They were, it is true, originally called "the Highlanders."  The reasons why are not clear.  It was maybe because they were playing up on Washington Heights, or because they were playing to the north of the other Manhattan team, the Giants; or because one of the Tammany sachems serving as a front for the team's owners was named Gordon.

BUT...BUT...even in the first year of the American League team in New York—1903—it was often called "the Yankees."

The reasons why are again obscure.  It was probably because either they were in the "American" League, or because, again, they were north of the Giants.  (Headline writers of the time seem to have been obsessed with Manhattan geography.)

But we were Yankees from the beginning!

What YES Is Up To.

El Duque's searing critique of the YES Network got me to thinking:  what could they possibly be doing, showing last March 28th's victory over the Orioles?  

Could they finally have tired of repeating their sadly limited array of "Yankees Classics"?  Could they somehow be out of Nets' or—Heaven forbid—NYCFC "Classics"?  

Why this game?

A perusal of YES' upcoming schedule—much like Paul Reiser in Diner, pictured above—perusing the order of the big eater in the diner ("Tank"?)—made me realize what's going on.

Reiser:  "Oh, I see, he's going for the whole left side of the menu!"

Me:  "Oh, I see!  YES is going to show every Yankees win in 2019.  All 108 of them. " 

Or at least, that's what it looks like.

While I would rather see every win in the 1977, 1978, 1998, 1999, 2000, or 2009 seasons, I gotta say, there's a certain, stirring madness in this.  

Plague Theater: Roger Maris makes a few extra bucks

APBA. Strat-o-Matic. Roger Maris.

Why isn't he in the Hall of Fame?

The Forbes valuation and Evil Empireness

Here's the thing about the Yankees' $5 billion Forbes valuation. The next highest valued team is the LA Dodgers--AND WE'RE WORTH 47% MORE THAN THEY ARE.

That's crazy. We should have the gaudiest collection of all-star players ever assembled on a single team. We should throw money at everyone who looks good and sort it out later. Instead, we play Shoppin' the Scrapheap.

After

Before

Today, ESPN informed me that it's the 107th anniversary of the Highlanders becoming the Yankees, the most storied team in sports.

It was also pointed out in a short  "Evil Empire" article that the Yanks have 27 rings, more than any other team by far, yadda yadda yadda. 

The thing is, they won 20 by 1962. That means 7 WORLD SERIES TITLES IN 57 FUCKING YEARS. 

And when you remember that four of those seven came via the great late-90s team, that's pretty damn sparse.

We may or may not be evil, but no way in hell we're an empire. I don't count a team as an empire when they're 7 for the last 57. Heinz's product lineup is more consistent than that.

We were an empire, many many many years ago, and a little mini-empire for a handful of seasons 20 years ago. But calling the Yankees an empire is like calling Moldova a superpower. It's ridiculous. (By the way, I worked across the street from the Moldovan embassy for a while, the saddest, shabbiest looking place, on an out-of-the-way side street.)

And in truth, the only evil thing about this non-empire is the mega-billionaire skinflint in the corner office. The penny pincher. The coupon clipper. The garbage picker. Never an emperor.


P.S. I also saw that Mark Reynolds is retiring. The Yankees are listed as one of a bunch of teams he's been with over the past five seasons. I honestly don't recall that, at all. Did he ever get in a game? One thing, I bet he came pretty cheap.

Did we all die, and this is eternity? Consider the YES Network's daily lineup

An old-fashioned global lock-down is the perfect occasion to catch up on those bucket list items you've been putting off years. 

Hobbies like, well, taxidermy! Here's you chance to restore that road-killed squirrel to a murderous snarl that will enliven some child's nightmares forever. Or restore that old Salton Home Yogurt-Making Machine, which has been in the basement since your cholesterol count came to rival that of Curly Culp. (Remember him?) Or, well, reading things - like, um, Yankee blogs! even though there hasn't been one iota of true Yankee news since the economic system crashed into the wall like Minny Minoso. Not one scintilla of news. Nobody has gotten injured (that we know.) Nobody has messed up (that we know.) Everything remains frozen in place, except for you and me: We've gotten older and craggier. 

But enough happy talk! Today, let's discuss the real casualty of this corona war: The always enchanting YES Network. Yesterday, Forbes ranked the Yankees as America's most valuable baseball franchise - by far - with a net worth at $5 billion. Nobody else close. Nevertheless, the YES Network has been regularly valued at nearly twice that of the Yankees, making the Steinbrenner family even richer than they seem, and making Food Stamps Hal's obsession with paying luxury taxes far more pathetic and infuriating. On the scale of his net worth, the luxury tax is the rough equivalent of tipping a waitress in a diner. Yet Hal fights as if his home is about to be repossessed. Amazing.

But this is about YES, which this evening will air "YES, We're Here," an exciting discussion between announcers Michael Kay and Ryan Ruocco on how they're spending the quarantine. This makes taxidermy a very real alternative. Two talkers talking about what they're doing around the house. Wow. 

Well, here's the real truth: 

We died, and this is Hell. 

Let's try something. Go to your front door. Open it. Do you find that you cannot step outside? That when you walk to the driveway, you hear a POOF and suddenly find yourself back in the living room, holding the channel changer and watching YES? That's not a sixties drug flashback. That's fucking eternity. Turns out, you were a bad person. And here's your reward for a lifetime of evil: YES, We're Here.

Yes, you're here: Hell. And here is today's TV schedule.

Imagine the poor YES engineering schlupp who must run the board today? Has there ever been a sadder lineup? The network is running a game last March against the O's. That's a Yankee Classic? And let's not forget the great Brooklyn Nets game against the (Name the city; I'd have to look it up, but I won't) Pelicans from last November.

Listen: Unless it's a game where Charles Oakley punches out a Dolan, who wants to watch any NBA regular season rerun? 

My guess is that YES's April ratings fell below the annual Yule Log (in July, that is), or is hovering around one of those six-hour canal boat rides on YouTube. The ads must show Glenn Beck hawking gold coins, or Tom Selleck urging you to remortgage the house. 

So, we get to learn how Michael Kay is spending his quarantine. I wonder if we'll see him wearing an apron? Excuse me, I'm going for a walk.

POOF. WTF? How did I get back here...?

Virtual Baseball: Yanks Top O's Again, May Have Found 4th Starter. Stanton "F-----g Insane."

In virtual baseball today, the New York Yankees completed a four-game sweep of the Baltimore Orioles.  But they may have done something even more important:  finally discovered a No. 4 starter for their injury-plagued rotation, after failed auditions for the role by Jordan "Field Marshal" Montgomery, Unecessa Cessa, and Johnny Loaisiga.

Mike King, still recovering from a serious arm injury that sidelined him for most of the last two seasons, pitched six credible innings at today's getaway game at the Stadium, even though he left trailing, 3-2.  King struck out 10 and gave up only two earned runs, relying on an assortment of what he later called, "good, reliable junk."

The Yanks rallied when Mike Ford—who had been fined the day before by MLB for eating a hamburger in the dugout that was found to have come from an unsanctioned vendor—hit a three-run homer in the bottom of the eighth.

Ford drew another fine when he defiantly ran the bases munching on a buttered, roast corn-on-the-cob.

"Hey, I was hungry," he told reporters in the clubhouse, while enjoying his usual, postgame snack of Oysters Rockefeller.

Reliever Tommy Kahnle got the win, while Sweaty Palms Chapman pitched a scoreless ninth for the save.

Meanwhile, rehabbing slugger Giancarlo Stanton, now down from his usual playing weight of 245 to a svelte 220, continued to irritate his Yankees teammates by performing a number of unusual yoga exercises before the game.

"He's out there doing 'Deep-diving dog' or some such s--t," remarked a Yankee who requested anonymity, but whose name is Clint Frazier.  "It's f-----g insane!"

Meanwhile, New York general manager Brian Cashman, still recuperating from an unfortunate lizard-recognition accident, reportedly suffered a setback today.  Due to what was thought to be an infection, Cashman was said to have been plagued by hallucinations, repeatedly screaming, "Is that you, Ellsbury?  Get back—get back!"

The Yankees, now 9-4, are solidly in second place in the AL East, but still three games behind the 12-1 Tampa Bay Rays, whose red-hot start has helped them to break the 100 mark in attendance this season.

Baseball's Brave New World?

Our Peerless Leader, El Duque, raises some typically thoughtful—and also dire—concerns about the game's future.  I think they are well-warranted.  But there could also be some upsides to this.

Will the minor leagues die?  Maybe, as we know them.  But MLB was about to kill them anyway.

Perhaps we could revert to an earlier incarnation of the minors, one in which the teams are independently owned, and sell players to the major to support themselves.  The possibilities for exploitation are manifest here, too, of course.  But also, maybe it's past time for minor leaguers to have their own union, and fight for their rights.

Minor-league players could become free agents after each year—and sign with whomever the hell they please.

Will the MAJOR leagues die?  Maybe, as we know them.  And that wouldn't necessarily be so bad, either.

Maybe, if the owners try to use this to clamp down on salaries and players' rights, players should revive an idea that almost worked way back in 1890, and start their own league.  It should be easier than ever, what with all the money the players have now.

Hire a few lawyers, take on a few investors, and...voila!  Even if the existing teams are able to lock them out of major-league stadia, the REAL major leaguers can set up elsewhere.

The 1890 Players' League pretty much killed one of the two, pre-existent major leagues at the time—the old American Association—and almost finished off the National League as well.  This time, they might succeed.

I don't know about you guys, but I love the idea of the New York Jeters dominating the new players' league.

Will anyone go?  No, not at these prices, anymore—I think Duque is right.  But to revise the entire pricing structure of the game would be a good thing, too.

Picture a world in which players average "only" a couple hundred thousand or so in salary every season, and ownership profits drop into the low millions, instead of billions.  Boo-hoo.

It would be a nice dose of reality in a sport that has all but gilded itself to death.  Fans might become closer to the players, the players might stop all the drugging, and the owners might be forced to treat the fans decently again.

All good.

Plague Theater: "Wait a minute, young lady... The Yankees don't sit with losers."

When George finally made it to Seinfeld. 

Will the coronavirus do MLB's bidding, and eliminate much of the minor leagues?

Last night, I was teleconferencing with a bunch of old farts - yeah, we look pathetic - and talk turned to the seriously endangered 2020 baseball season. The notion of teams playing in Arizona before empty bleachers - though maybe better than nothing - hardly resembles a real season. We kept reaching one conclusion: 

Until humanity has a drug or vaccine that clobbers this virus, there is no return to the old ways. Even then, baseball will never be the same.

Major U.S. sports could be effectively sidelined until mid-2021, or even longer. Impossible? Who six months ago could have imagined our current situation? 

If baseball is canceled this year - a real possibility - what might it look like on the other side of the pandemic? I invite your thoughts. Here are a few of mine:

The minor leagues could shrink. The upper-crust bastards at MLB were already seeking to kill many minor league franchises, though political headwinds were pushing back. After this, I wonder if communities will have the clout to keep their franchises alive. Syracuse, where I live, has battled to support the Chiefs for 30 years. Public money has always been involved. Will the team survive this? All bets are off. It's not hard to imagine dozens of small cities with empty stadiums, built by taxpayers - relics of the past - with nobody to play in them. 

A few MLB franchises might fold. Looking at Tampa, which has failed to gain a solid toehold in Florida, despite fielding excellent teams. Last fall's playoffs seemed to revive support for the Rays. That momentum could be lost. And other teams could be stretched. Here's an impossible thought: If NYC continues to be a boiling kettle of flu, could it support two teams? Once upon a time, when faced with red ink, MLB owners could hold threaten to move and hold taxpayers for ransom. After this, I don't think that's going to work.  

Many great careers would be cut short. For the Yankees, Brett Gardner comes to mind. A happy ending to Giancarlo Stanton's Yankee career might never get written. Instead of a Yankee decade, the Twenties could be an era of missed opportunities and bloated contracts. Will Gleyber Torres be denied what could be the greatest season of his life? Same with Gerrit Cole. But it runs across the spectrum: Will Albert Pujols ever hit another home run? What about Justin Verlander and Zack Grienke? There will be a BEFORE and AFTER, and owners will surely try to impose a salary cap - even more than the de facto cap (alias "luxury taxes") that already exists. Yankee fans might not like the new reality.

The game would have to find an entirely new pricing structure. For years now, the Yankees have priced poor families out of games, and hefty YES Network fees to cable outlets strained the wallets of Millennials. The new stadium created a rich-poor breaking point, and frankly, I think it only sustained itself through traditions, corporations and the money of wealthy boomers. Until a vaccine is available, old farts won't be attending games. At the old prices, I wonder who will? 

In our lifetimes, baseball will never be quite the same.

(If I haven't totally depressed you, note that I'm soon going to launch polls for the IT IS HIGH All-Time Yankee opponents team, so please add your candidates to the comments section here or in yesterday's post.) 

Virtual Game 12: Streaking Yanks Rally to Top O's, 9-8. Stanton Begins to "Freak Out" Teammates.

The Virtual New York Yankees today completed a stirring comeback with a three-run 9th inning, topped off by Gio Urshela's two-run single through the infield, to edge Baltimore.

It was the 6th straight win for the 8-4 Yanks against the O's this season.  Urshela also contributed several outstanding plays in the field, Gleyber Torres added an inside-the-park home run, and new left fielder Miguel Andujar threw two Orioles out at the plate, as the Yanks rallied from an 8-3 deficit.

The only sour spot came in the early innings, when the Yankees' search for a viable No. 4 starter again went awry, as "Johnny Lasagna" was battered by the Birds, surrendering 6 earned runs.  Only standout relief from Tommy Kahnle, Chad Greene, Zack(h) Britton, and "Sweats" Chapman made the New York comeback possible.

Meanwhile, several Yankees reported anonymously that rehabilitating slugger Giancarlo Stanton was beginning to "freak us out" with his frequent chants of "Dairy is murder!" and his extended meditation sessions, in which he kept chanting "Om!  Om!"

Several thought he might be trying out a new kind of PED, and were eager to know what it was.

Plague Theater: "Major League Baseball is spying on me."

But it's okay. 

My "B" Team

When I was a young and strapping athlete, I sharpened my batting eye by playing stickball 

against " Big John," a neighborhood friend and an avid baseball lover of the ( then ) NY Giants.

At the local elementary school, we chalked a strike zone on a brick wall and played for hours.  Sometimes, local twosomes would wander by and challenge us. We never lost to anyone, in my memory. Home or away. 

I , of course, was a Yankee fan.  But, as a young kid, I didn't have the composure to represent the Yankees in a stick ball game and ( possibly ) lose.  This quality...or lack thereof ...continues with me today.

The point of this tale is mostly to say;  I selected the Tigers as my team for stickball.  If " Big John" beat me, I would not collapse emotionally. I could hold my Detroit Tiger composure and get ready for the next game.

My favorite players, of course, were :  Yale Lary, Al Kaline and Harvey Keune ( I can't spell this one).  The latter two were all stars in their early 20's and great at everything.  Yale Lary, of course, was a "Yankee killer" in real life,  but, on my team he was just a great inspiration.  

In the end,  I think "Big John" and I broke even, after about 1000 games.    He was a better pitcher and could hit the "spaldine"  ( those pink things ) a country mile....but I was a better fielder and clutch hitter.  I think I got lucky a few times, as well. 

Whoever won, we would retreat to the local deli for orange Nehi and Twinkies. A great remedy for hurt feelings. 

Sorry to hear of Al's passing, but he'll be an all star wherever he winds up. 

Offworld Series

Play all the games in Arizona?
Could it be done? Would we wanna?
Played in front of empty stands
Masks on players, gloves on hands
Players going through the motions
Or passing out while sweating oceans
With beer ads showing bars and fetes
While we sit alone, drooling in our seats
Broadcast to the waiting masses
Numb from our brains on down to our asses
Trapped because of the pandemic--

Already feels like a Schwarzenegger flick.

Plague Theater: "I'm back in business, baby!" George Costanza joins the Yankees

Best part is when he lists the Yankee greats. 

With the passing of Al Kaline, I've been thinking of the ALL-TIME YANKEE OPPONENTS TEAM

The first sports magazine I ever bought - (actually, my dad bought it for me) - was a black-and-white thing called "WHO'S BEST IN SPORTS?" It featured one-page profiles of star athletes, most of whom I'd never heard of. But one I already knew too well. The headline said, "DON'T LEAVE OUT AL KALINE," and, goddamm, they were right. Any list of great outfielders - Mickey, Willie, Roger, Bob Clemente, etc. - needed Kaline. (R.I.P., Mr. Tiger.)

These days, turns out that I have some time on my hands. Time to think about not just old Yankees, but the demons who haunted my childhood, adolescence, salad days and - damn - they can still hijack a drinking jag. They ruined months, years, of my life. The great ones.

On that note, I invite you to join me in drawing up the IT IS HIGH ALL-TIME YANKEE OPPONENT TEAM. For now, we need nominees. If we can make a list, I'll set up a poll, we can vote and - damn - it'll kill a few Groundhog Days of this quarantine. I feel like Trump and his wonder drug: Whattaya gotta lose? So... here are easy ones, pulled off the top of my head. I suggest we go beyond simply naming the greatest players of all-time, but limit this to the ones who particularly drew the most blood. Some suggestions...

c: Lance Parrish, Ivan Rodriguez, Carlton Fisk

1b:

2b: Joe Morgan, Roberto Alomar, Jose Altuve 

ss: Cal Ripken, Rick Burleson 

3b: George Brett, Brooks Robinson

lf: Manny Ramirez

cf: Johnny Damon

rf: Al Kaline Dwight Evans, Frank Robinson, Jose Bautista

dh: David Ortiz, Edgar Martinez 

sp: (Pick 5) Pedro Martinez, Curt Schilling, Sandy Koufax, Frank Larry, Roy Halladay, Felix Hernandez, Teddy Higuera, Gerrit Cole

bullpen (Pick 3): Rich Garces (el Guapo) 

closer: 

All right, everybody... suggestions?

Virtual Game 11: Yanks Stomp, Fillet, Grind Birds Into Dust, 16-3. Stanton a Vegan.

In Virtual Baseball today, the Yankees dished out their usual pounding to the Orioles, 16-3.  Line drives off the bat of Miguel Andujar injured three different Baltimore infielders, they were hit so hard.  As the third one was carried off the field, O's outfielders were seen openly weeping.

It was also a good day for D.J. LeMahieu, who made a circus catch on a can o' corn, hit for the cycle with a Texas Leaguer, a two-sacker, a three-bagger, and a dinger.  Clint Frazier made a spectacular, over the should catch, facilitated by the fact that he began the play facing the wrong way.

J.A. Happ cruised to 3-0 record.

Afterwards, Manager Ma Boone had a faraway look in his eyes.

"Aren't the Orioles dreamy?  Can't we play them everyday?" he asked reporters.

The big news of the day, though, was a press conference in which a surprisingly svelte Giancarlo Stanton announced that, in keeping with his declaration from the day before that his body is a temple, he will now become a vegan.  Sportswriters, unfamiliar with the term, thought he was changing his citizenship.

"What it means is this:  no meat, no fish, no eggs, no milk," Stanton explained, standing next to his friend, Oscar-winning actor Joaquin Phoenix.  "Dairy is murder!  Milking is torture!  Free the cows!  Burn the barns!"

Stanton then pumped a black-and-white glove fist into the air, and made a strange, ululating sound that Mr. Phoenix informed the flummoxed press corps was a cry of solidarity with the world's heifers.

The Yankees outfielder did not give a timetable as to when he might be expected back in the lineup.

You can call him Al

Plague Theater: Anger Management invades Yankee Stadium

All-star cast. Adam Sandler. Jack Nicholson. Woody Harrelson. Robert Merrill. Bob Sheppard. Even a pre-meltdown Rudy Giuliani.  

Plague Theater: George Costanza takes BP

George Costanza at the plate.

The Glendale Yankees?

Clearly at wits end, MLB is pondering a plan to start the season in May and play all games in Arizona.

This stroke of genius will get America feeling normal again. Soon, the crack of the bat and whisper of blowing sand dunes will signal a nightly diversion to the ongoing plague. Some of the most delightful aspects of this Mohave League:

1. Teams will self-isolate, living in Phoenix-area hotels, away from families and humanity.

2. Due to the intense, 110-degree daytime heat, games will be played at night. Yankee games could start around 10 p.m. on the East Coast. 

3. Players will constantly be tested for the virus. This will enliven the pennant race, because at any time, one infected player could blow up his team. 

4. Games will be played in empty stadiums, without fans. Thus, players will be able to hear what Micheal Kay and Coney are saying in real time.

5. To compensate for the loss of loved ones, each player will be assigned a service iguana. 

6. Games could be called due to sandstorms. 

7. Instead of being sent to Scranton, a demoted Yankee will go on a "walkabout."

8. Annual home run derby to be held in Grand Canyon.

9. Rosters will be expanded to take into account scorpion bites and third-degree asphalt burns.

10. When coming to bat, all Latino players must present papers to former Sheriff Joe Arpaio.

11. New signature call by The Master: "IT IS HIGH, IT IS FAR, IT IS... oh, I got sand in my eye, what happened?" 

Virtual Game 10: Yanks Smash O's, 12-0; Stanton Back in Bronx—and Baffling.

The New York Yankees flattened the sad, semi-comatose Orioles tonight by a 12-0 score, with Masahiro Tanaka picking up his second win of the season.  Gleyber Torres, not quite displaying the same home run power he usually does in Baltimore, hit three triples instead.  The Birds had to be coaxed out of their dugout in the top of the eighth to finish the game, with several of the O's stomping around, throwing their gloves on the ground, and saying, "It's not fair, it's not fair!"

Yankees fans were also glad to see Giancarlo Stanton finally return from a Miami ICU ward today, after his long battle with chorizo/churro poisoning.  

In a bizarre statement before the press, though, Stanton announced:

"I now realize that my body is a temple.  I will no longer pollute it with any harmful substances.  Period."

Told of Stanton's words in his own hospital bed, where he is still recovering from a lizard-misrecognition attack, Yankees' GM Brian Cashman was heard to mutter only, "The horror!  The horror!"

Plague Theater: "Mattingly, get rid of those sideburns!"

The last line is the kicker.

Plague Theater: Doris Day stands up for the Yankees

Mickey, Roger and Yogi pay the price. Folks, it's called "acting!"

On this day in Yankee History...

Dateline, Boston, 1973 ... hello, Mr. and Mrs. America and all the ships at sea ... today, Ron Blomberg, young star of the New York Yankees with incredible potential, is the first Designated Hitter in baseball history ... Blomberg walks to the plate and walks to first against Luis Tiant ... Tiant best known for saying "It's great to be with a wiener" in a frankfurter commercial... Bloomie 1 for 3 with a ribbie thanks to the bases-loaded stroll, but Yanks fall, 15 to 5 ... and who was the lady on the arm of Yankee Fritz Peterson? ... no tattling here but sources say it was NOT Mrs. Peterson ... ditto for teammate Mike Kekich ... crazy days in the House of the Babe ...