Saturday, September 26, 2020

Fun Facts About the Twin Towers!

By HoraceClarke66

 

Did you know that…


Like many people, I thought that Aaron Judge and Giancarlo Stanton might not only match but even surpass their career-year, 2017, combined total of 111 home runs in a season.

 

And they (almost) have!  Why, between them they now have—count ’em!—108 home runs.  In three seasons.

 

Hey, I know, that’s unfair.  They’ve been injured.  A lot. 

 

Still…they have played 439 games between them.  As opposed to the combined, 314 they played in 2017, the last time both of them could stay on the field. 

 

In other words, they’ve gone from 1 HR every 2.83 games to 1 every 4.06.  

 

But don’t worry.  Some day they might even bat back-to-back!

Virtual Baseball: Amazing Reappearances! Miraculous Coincidences! Incredible Concatenations!

By HoraceClarke66

 

It happened in the middle of Ma Boone’s pregame speech to the Yankees. He had sat the whole team down, and started to talk to them in a low, sad voice.

 

“Well, boys, you’ve played a great season—and now your general manager says it’s over. I guess we can’t expect to win ’em all,” Boone told them. “But now I’m going to tell you about somebody most of you never saw on a ballfield. How many of you ever heard of Giancarlo Stanton?”

 

Most of the Yankees shook their heads, and looked at the floor. One or two tentatively, doubtfully, raised a hand.

 

“I know. It was before your time, most of you. But you know what a tradition he’s become here at the Stadium.”

 

There was a gentle, faraway look in his eyes.

 

“But you know, the last thing Stanton said to me before he went on the DL for 345 days…or maybe it was that time he insisted on being on the playoff roster even though he couldn’t play…or I guess it was when that mysterious cyclone swept him away in Iowa,” Boone recalled.  “But whenever it was, the last thing Stanton said to me—besides ‘Please God, help me!’—was ‘Boonie, sometime when the team is up against it, and the breaks are beating the boys, tell them to go out there with all they got and win just one for the Giancarlo.’”

 

Just as Boone finished, a familiar silhouette appeared in the doorway of the Yankees’ clubhouse. 

 

“Why is it…could it be…Is it…???”

 

“It’s me, of course, why you just saw me show up unexpectedly at the clubhouse in Toronto last week,” said John Sterling. “But I brought a certain someone with me, a Yankee man of knowledge!”

 

Out from behind him, stepped Giancarlo Stanton.

 

“Geez, what kind of story is this that has unknown silhouettes appearing in a doorway every few days?” asked backup first baseman Mike Ford, though he was quickly silenced by cries of “Shut up, Princeton!”

 

“I won’t be playing right away. Or maybe, you know, ever,” Stanton told his teammates, to audible exhalations of relief. “But I want you to go out there and win one for, well, me.”

 

In the epic, ensuing battle of anonymous relievers versus anonymous relievers, beginning with Yankees “opener” Johnny Lasagna, and ending with Aroldis Chapman in the ninth, the Yankees managed to edge the TB Rays, 5-4, and cut the Tampa Bay lead to just 1 game with only 2 remaining. 

 

The winning blow was a gigantic home run to dead center field by Gary Sanchez in the bottom of the eighth, following home runs by Miguel Andujar and Clint Frazier earlier in the wild, back-and-forth contest.

 

The unmitigated joy over the Yankees’ stunning win was only mitigated by the fact that the Pangolin House restaurant in the centerfield cube remained closed for the second straight game. Rumors abounded that the New York Department of Health was avidly searching for all the Wall Street executives who attended a large party there early in the week.

 

While stories spread about food poisoning and worse, Yankees spokesman Lonn Trost issued a statement assuring the public that, “Contrary to rumor, nobody has died—directly—from anything they ate—or inhaled, or touched—at Pangolin House.  At least as far as we know.”

Shoot me: Baseball's worst defense, five DPs, and the insane inability to bunt crush the Yankee season

In the end, last night came down to one fundamental difference:

In the 10th, the Marlins could bunt. The Yankees could not. The Marlins advanced their runner to third. We popped up. 

You can add that we also horribly blew two gift-wrapped second chances. We flubbed a rundown - your basic Little League hotbox - letting Miami stay alive. Then, with the bases loaded, we failed to score the tying run.

So it went. So it goes. Another miserable loss in a season of bed-crappings. Another pile of steaming what-ifs? Another post-game of the zombie Aaron Boone, dead but not knowing it, claiming that so-and-so is ready to breakout, and the such-and-such shows positive signs. If not for that - (choose your excuse) - bad call, bad hop, bad plate of clams... aw, why bother? 

For the record, the Yankees are tied with Pittsburgh (18-40, MLB's worst team) for the most errors in baseball. They average 0.81 per game. Last night, they added four.

They rank fourth in hitting DP grounders per game, last night contributing five - including the reverse walk-off.

They are fourth from the bottom in defensive DPs, converting just 0.62 per game.

Worst of all, by a wide margin, they lead all of baseball - no, all of sports - in excuses. They average 100 per post-game.

One of the Hollywood's great lines comes at the end of King Kong, when Carl Denham points to the big, hairy, lifeless head and says, "It wasn't the airplanes. It was beauty killed the beast."

Today, looking at the big, hairy, lifeless head of the 2020 Yankees, let me proclaim that it wasn't power, or speed, or opposing teams that exploded Cooperstown Cashman's "fully functioning Death Star." Nope, it was the rank fundamentals that are supposed to be learned in high school. Somewhere along the way, the Yankees exchanged honest baseball for the mid-season All Star Break Home Run Derby.  

I wonder - because nobody gets to see batting practice anymore - do the Yankees ever practice bunting? Do they even try? Half this team could add 100 points to their batting averages and crash the defensive over-shifts that are killing them... if only they learned to bunt. Remember how David Ortiz did it? He'll make the Hall of Fame. But the Yankees - with careers swirling the drain - cannot (or will not) learn that fundamental skill.

At this point, I'd like to put on my Yankee Nostradamus cap and make a prediction: Long after we are dead, some Yankee manager will impose a crackdown like Andrew Cuomo and capture the hearts of NYC with a hustling reincarnation of Billy Ball. Someday, it will happen. Until then, the Yankees will continue to be the team that gets killed by quality pitchers, that cannot advance the winning run, that cannot score without long balls - and that always goes home in early October.

Today, I suggest we all start preparing for Phase Two of the pandemic. We had a two-month run, with nights full of Yankee games. It's going to end soon, probably by end of next week. Last night, we caught a glimpse, and it wasn't pretty. When the end comes, have your affairs in order. Kong is looking dizzy. Look out, below.

Friday, September 25, 2020

Virtual Baseball: Yanks Win Again, Cut Lead to Two! Wall Street Burns as Trump Snorkels! Pangolin House Closed After Big Party at the Stadium.

 In a wild night of baseball, the Red Bear market, and suspect foreign delicacies, the virtual New York Yankees emerged as the big winner, besting Houston by 12-9.  

 

After strict warnings from the umpires and Commissioner Rob Manfredmannandthefamilyofman that any pitcher hitting a batter would be thrown out of the game, a chortling Ma Boone started Luis Cessa, and watched as he promptly hit Houston leadoff man Jose Altuve in the head again.

 

After the ensuing, on-field brawl, Astros pitchers hit three Yankees with pitches and were not ejected, but the commissioner’s office explained that rules that apply to New York teams do not necessarily have anything to do with those from other cities.

 

When Cessa was tossed, the Yanks replaced him with their sterling rookie starter, Deivi Garcia.  But Garcia seemed off his game, giving up four runs in the first inning alone.  Garcia, along with other Yankees in the infield complained about a lights shining in their eyes at crucial times, as if someone in the mirror was deliberately flashing it at them.

 

Stadium security did eventually haul in a suspect in the mirror attacks. The individual, who gave his name as Buck Jefferson Jackson Johnson, listed his home address as Plano, Texas, but insisted that he is, in fact, a Yankees fan.  Mr. Johnson said he was not trying to affect the outcome of the game, but only fooling around to see if he could blind someone.

 

By the time Deivi left the game, the Yanks trailed by 6-3.  But New York soon fought its way back, using a variety of rarely seen tactics such as hitting to the opposite field and even bunting that left the capacity crowd gasping in appreciation.  Back-to-back-to-back home runs by The Gleyber, Judge, and Andujar finished off the victory in the bottom of the eighth. 

 

Going into the year’s final series against Tampa Bay, the Yanks trail the Dull Rays by only two games, but GM Brian Cashman insisted that the Bombers would not be starting Gerrit Cole in any of the upcoming contests.  “In a pig’s eye!” was Boone’s only comment.

 

Meanwhile, stocks took another steep dive today, with the Dow dropping below 23,000.  Some analysts attributed the dizzying drop to the large number of leading market traders and analysts who did not show up for work today, following a party at Yankee Stadium’s celebrated Pangolin House. 

 

The restaurant was not open tonight despite the sell-out crowd.  Executives from the chain’s parent company in Wuhan, China, insisted the restaurant was closed merely to clean up from the previous night’s festivities, which apparently had led to some spectacular instances of projectile vomiting. 

The Yankees are stuck in an alternative universe, captive to forces that might destroy all reality, and other thoughts about this damned team

Last night, in the sixth inning, I accidentally hit a glitch in the Matrix, one of those off-ramp worm holes in the universal space-and-time continuum that governs our faux existence. Jeez, I don't want to get technical here - these days, many people hate science - so let's just say I stumbled into one of Einstein's theoretical zones of reverse-jujularity, where down is up, left is right, time is money, and Aaron Judge is Zolio Almonte. Bad cellphone service, too. We've all been there. 

The Yankees were down 2-0 in a completely winnable game. Plus, our big boys were coming up. Leading off, Luke Voit singled to left. Then Aaron Hicks dribbled a single to right. Two on, nobody out, and the heart of the order! Calgon Bath Beads, here we go! I shouted, silently. 

Suddenly, the TV telescoped into a billion fragments of reality bytes - (an underappreciated Winona Ryder movie, by the way.) Suddenly, it was Wednesday night in the fifth - NO, it was also Sunday night, NO, it was A HUNDRED nights in this horrible excuse for a season - all with the same wretched outcome. 

I said to myself, No, deja vu can't be happening again...

But it did. 

Giancarlo Stanton struck out on three pitches. Three. Fucking. Pitches. One, two, three. He missed the last one by a foot. Stanton's comeback season - remember that chestnut? - is shot. Even if he goes wild this weekend against Miami, he will finish with a handful of HRs and RBIs (he has 4 and 10, respectively) and a mediocre average (now .261.) To see the MVP slugger we hoped for, we need a time machine to 2017. 

Gleyber Torres came up. On the first pitch, he hit a fly to right that advanced Voit to third. It wasn't one of those "Gee, that might have gone out in Yankee Stadium!" balls that the YES team oogles. It was a fly ball. Gleyber will finish 2020 with about 3 HRs, a dismal (.248) average, and a questionable future at SS. He entered 2020 as one of the game's rising stars. Next spring, where does he even play? 

Finally, it was Gio Urshela. He's had a decent year - .317 with great defense. But it didn't matter. Grounder to second. Another scoring opportunity... shot to hell. 

In the bottom of the inning, Toronto scored two - Adam Ottavino came in; don't get me started - and that's China Town, Jake. Michael Kay spent the last three innings citing the dire circumstances that could have the Yankees finishing 8th in the playoff seeds. It sounded like a eulogy to a squandered life.

Every other team in the AL East is full of ascending young stars - even Boston retooled - while the Yankees sat on their haunches, waiting for their stars of 2017 to return. 

They are baseball's version of a Maroon 5 tribute band.  

The year has been a complete washout for Gary Sanchez, Miguel Andujar, Mike Ford, Brett Gardner, Mike Tauchman, Aroldis Chapman, Hicks, Ottavino and the bullpen. Sanchez gives me PTSD. He will be lucky to hit .150. (He's currently at .140.) Last night, the YES men said - get this - Sanchez has more high exit velocity balls for outs than anybody else in baseball. I believe they were offering this as an excuse. In fact, it just shows how he hits directly into defensive over-shifts - he cannot adapt - another reason for his collapse.

Well, maybe this year was always doomed. Maybe Boston had it right - just tank from the git-go and think about 2021. We took it for granted that the Yankees would make the post-season - that nothing in September would matter. We didn't expect to be stuck in a space-and-time continuum, where east is west, and peanut butter is jelly. 

But who expected this? Middling, pissy mediocrity. And I hope they don't even bother to fill the bases with nobody out. I can't take another worm hole.

Thursday, September 24, 2020

You will get your wish......


It is over Duque.  The season, that is. 

Boone will start his " A" team in the playoffs, and they will not "go through" ( as the Brits would say ). 

Any human being can see that Sanchez is a liability, and that Jeter conned and poisoned the Yankees for a decade, just has Putin has done to the red, white and blue. 

The players in uniforms # 24 and #27 are a cancer.  They usually strike out , swinging at pitches so terrible one can only think of the Chicago Black Sox.  My grandmother would lay off those pitches.  

And by now, it has to be both predictable and demoralizing to the other players.  They must be saying; 

 "WTF?  

"The season is nearly over and these two continue to hurt us.  Why are they in the line-up? "  

The Yankees have a really good catcher, with great defense and an accurate arm, who hit three home runs in one game. 

"WTF?"

When #24 and #27 do make contact, it is 90% guaranteed to be into a rally-killing double play.  The speed of these two running to first base is way under an eight second forty. We are usually better off when these players just look at three strikes and sit down. 

 Umpires are endangered when Sanchez is behind the plate ( note; I did not say " catches ").  He leads the league in passed balls, bat tipping, and errors.  He is slow to everything, and our pitchers dare not use their breaking balls, with men on base. And the opposition knows all of this. 

His throwing is now of the one-hop variety, and requires magic to catch them and apply a tag ( we saw that yesterday on the attempted steal, well before it was 14-1).

Billy Martin would sit both of these over-paid players during the playoffs, and win by doing so  But it takes grit and guile to do that.  He would get in Sanchez's face and tell him , " you fucking stink," and he would tell Stanton to., "shut the fuck up, or stay home and play with yourself."

Boone is not (as a commenter said today ) a real manager.  He is a PR puppet for Brian who, in turn, is a puppet for you know who. 

So the "A" team will play, the announcers will gush, and we will go home early.  Again.

The season is over. 

You can relax.




Virtual Baseball: Happ Scraps Cheaters, Yanks Still Three Back. Wall Street Wolves Rally at Pangolin House.

FROM THE CRAZED COMPUTER OF HORACECLARKE66

Suddenly rejuvenated starter virtual J.A. Happ pitched a complete game Wednesday night, shutting down the Houston Ethically Challenged Astros, 9-1.  

Aaron Hicks, Gleyber Torres, and Luke Voit all homered for the suddenly revived and rejuvenated Bombers, as they tore off their third straight win—though it still left the Bronx team three games behind the TB Rays with just four games left to play. 

 

“Three of those games are against Tampa Bay, in our ballpark, so we still have a solid chance,” pointed out manager Ma Boone.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” snorted Yankees GM Brian Cashman, seated next to Boone at the same press conference.  “We have zero chance to catch those guys.  None, nada, zippo.  I keep telling you: get your pitching ready for the postseason!”


“Mr. Cashman, my pitching is always ready,” Boone told him, while the assembled New York press conference let out with a collective, “ooooohhhhhh!”

 

Meanwhile, heartened by a Wall Street rally that took the Dow back over 27,000, hundreds of top Wall Street traders held a raucous, morale-raising event/Trump fundraiser at Pangolin House, located in the unfortunate black monolith situated in centerfield of Yankee Stadium III. 

 

While feasting on the obscure Chinese lizard-mammal fried, roasted, fricasseed, or tartare, the traders paid little attention to the game on the field, but gave repeated cheers for capitalism and the American way, along with constant demands for strippers.

Crapping the bad: Yanks pick Buffalo and the Blue Jays for sloppiest game of 2020

Rather than relive the complete agony of last night's 14-1 Yankee debacle - a loss with genuine playoff implications - Sherman, set the Wayback for the bottom of the fourth/top of the fifth - arguably the worst inning of this miserable season.

In the fourth, we're down just 3-1, Masahiro Tanaka gives up a solo HR to Danny Jansen, a weak-hitting catcher whom the Yankees cannot solve. Next, Craig Biggio's kid hits a grounder that Cruel Hands Luke Voit bats into right center. Single. Ruled too hot to handle, a friendly call by the official scorer. 

Then Luke botches a pick-off attempt. The ball clanks off his glove and rolls 20 feet. He fetches it, and his throw to second beats the runner. It bounces off Gleyber Torres's glove. Three fuck-ups on one runner. But wait, there's more. 

Bo Bichette walks. The next guy hits a DP grounder to Gleyber, who waits on the hop, and the relay to first is late. A force out, another reprieve granted by the Yankee defense. Randall Grychuck singles, making it 5-1, and a tight game just flew out the window.

In the top of the fifth, the Yankees outdo themselves. Clint Frazier walks, and DJ LeMahiue singles. Two on, no outs. Aaron Judge draws a walk on a questionable 3-2 call. On YES's virtual strike zone, it looked like strike three, but we'll take it - especially since Judge has done almost nothing since returning.

Bases loaded, no outs, heart of the order coming up. Most pivotal moment in the game thus far. Giancarlo Stanton fans on four pitches. Voit pops out. Gleyber flies to right. (In the early innings, we scored on a similar situation because of a passed ball; we almost got a wild pitch here, but Jansen blocked it.) 

Okay, so it's a stinker, right? Every team has them. While I missed the radio broadcast driven by Jeep, I am sure that John Sterling made two critical points: 

1) That it's only ONE game in the loss column, ONE game.

2) Unlike other sports, tomorrow's game will have different pitchers, and thus be an entirely different battle. 

This is supposed to lift our spirits.  

Well, here are some reality checks.

1. The Yankee IF has two major defensive liabilities: Gleyber at SS and Voit at 1B. If the season were longer - that is, if the season were normal - we would have to in July find a SS, switch Gleyber back to 2B, move LeMahiue to 1B and make Luke the DH. (This would force Stanton to play LF or - better - the Yankees to eat his contract in a trade. Remember how the world accused Derek Jeter of helping his old team with the Stanton salary dump? They don't say it anymore, do they?)

2. Gary Sanchez is NOT on the verge of, any minute now, breaking out. When it comes to Sanchez, the Yankees sound like a doomsday cult, constantly looking for signs that the end is near. If Sanchez draws a walk, the YES team says this could be JUST THE WALK that he needed to get back on track! Long ago, Sanchez morphed into a John Mayberry-as-a-Yankee territory: The point where the aging slugger's HR is a bad thing, because it assures him another 100 at bats before the Yankees make a move. Sanchez needs a new team, a new town, a new position maybe. This isn't working. Kyle Higashioka should be our starting catcher. It's that simple.

3. Tanaka might rise to the occasion in Game Two of the playoffs, but who knows which version will show up? We have Gerrit Cole and a handful of dice. And the "bridge" to our late inning bullpen - itself, sketchy - is a mine field. Luis Cessa, Tyler Lyons - dear God. Last night, David Cone opined that the Yankees might end up pitching Eric Kratz in a post-season blowout. (By the way, Kratz pitched last night, of course.) Can you imagine that? The YES men are actually suggesting that a position player will pitch next week, when the Yankees are so far behind that they want to - gulp - save Jonathan Holder? Wow.

Last night, I had an epiphany. It dawned on me that all I really want is for this season to end. You want to talk about signs? That's a bad one.

Wednesday, September 23, 2020

If Minnesota chases down the White Sox, the Yankees can confront their Great Mistakes of this new millennium.

Ladies and gentlemen, please direct your attention to the center-placed graphic located just below this lede, in the main IT IS HIGH concourse: 


Thank you.

As you see, the Death Star remains comfortably pillowed into 2nd place in the AL East, four games above the Buffalo Devil Jays with five remaining in this, the tiniest of seasons, which will lead to the longest set of playoffs ever.

For weeks now, the Yankees have diligently chased Minnesota for the No. 4 seed and home field advantage in the dazzlingly truncated first round. If the season ended today, we'd fall short by one measly game. Next Tuesday, while the presidential candidates debate, they'd be flying to the cold city of Jesse Ventura, Vince Vaughn and George Floyd, preparing for a three-game set.

But last night, the Chicago White Sox said, "Not so fast." The Sox have spent September atop the AL Central, but the dingy is leaking with one oar is in the water. They have blown three straight, while the Twinkies have won three. Minnesota is now one game behind Chicago. The Twins have four remaining, one with the tanking Tigers and three with the .500 Reds. Meanwhile, the White Sox must play two against the streaking Indians (three wins in a row) and three against the crosstown Cubs, a brutal end to their love-boat season. 

For weeks, I've gone Chicken Little about the Yankees facing Minnesota, our traditional sex toy, in October. For years, we've owned the Twins in the post-season. As we learned the hard way in 2004, these dominatrix relationships don't last forever. You cannot continually beat a good team, and the 2020 Twins are just that. If we face Minnesota in the best-of-three, be afraid. Be very afraid. They might have figured out a safe word. Killebrew? 

But wait, what's this... an escape porthole? If the White Sox continue to stumble, they will fall into second, and - holy crap - they become our first round opponent. And here's another one: If we can run the table on these last five games, we could steal home field advantage - forcing the Sox to learn the nuances of a stadium they haven't seen all year. Have you ever played LF in Yankee Stadium during the sunsets of October? Neither have the White Sox. 

Playing Chicago also would bring the Yankees face-to-face with their original sin of this millennium: Yoan Moncada. Every historical timeline over the last decade pivots on our cheap-ass refusal to outbid Boston for Moncada, who came from Cuba as one of the game's top prospects. Back then, we didn't think of Hal Steinbrenner as "Food Stamps." We just assumed - as everybody in MLB did - that the Son of George would fork over the cash and get out of the way. Instead, he hid under the bed, clutching his purse, while the Redsocks rebuilt their organization. They eventually converted Moncada into Chris Sale, who won a World Series and helped kill our chances in recent years.

In a perfectly wicked world, I would now toss out MVP-level stats for Moncada, prosecuting Hal with the righteous vengeance of a Fox News host. But Moncada's numbers this year are crapola - .221 with 5 HRs. (Last year, .315 with 25 HRs.) For now, we're better off with Gio Urshela (.289 with 6 HRs). Also, let's face it: Chris Sale is out until next June. This could be our chance to finally put the disaster of Moncada behind us.

One other Great Past Mistake we might also face: Dallas Keuchel has returned from the IL in time for the playoffs. Last July, he was ours for the taking - a free agent with no draft-pick baggage - if Hal's fanny-pack was ready. Who knows how Keuchel would have fared in the post-season against his old team, the cheating Astros, who had cut him loose rather than pay the money? Had he been a Yankee, might Keuchel have warned us about Houston's love of CF cameras? Might he have thrown, say, a shutout? 

Well, we can put all this behind us. If we have a choice, the answer is clear: Bring on the White Sox.

Tuesday, September 22, 2020

More Fun Facts About Buffalo!

 By HoraceClarke66

All right, I’m running out of things to say about the City of Light, Upstate New York version. 

 

What most interested me about Buffalo as a boy was how President McKinley got shot there. Anarchist Leon Czolgosz wrapped an extended bandage around the pistol he held in his hand, and simply waited in the reception line for all those who wanted to shake the president’s hand. 

 

As a kid, this struck me as pure genius. Little did I realize that McKinley must’ve had about the worst security team in history, with the possible exception of the detective who went off to have a beer while Lincoln was watching that play. 

 

Apparently, they even ushered Czolgosz toward McKinley, saying, “Mr. President, this man has an injured hand.” Why not just, “Mr. President, this man is holding a large, lit ‘Acme Anarchist Bomb’”?  And what about the people standing in line with him? Didn’t they get suspicious?

 

I can only assume that America was a more trusting nation back in 1901. Or maybe there were just a lot more people with injured hands, which could account for why Czolgosz was so peeved in the first place.

 

I shouldn’t be so flippant. McKinley was a stolid, machine politician who was nudged into pulling off what became a very brutal piece of American imperialism in the Philippines, but other than that he wasn’t a bad guy. 

 

He was devoted to his shy wife, who also suffered from epilepsy. When he was governor of Ohio, he used to go to the window of his office everyday and wave his handkerchief to her in their nearby home, and she would wave back.

 

When she had one of her fits at a public dinner, he would simply place a napkin over her face while the dinner continued, which was considered the height of Victorian decorum and consideration. 

 

And when he was shot, he told his incompetent Secret Service agents, while still clutching his bullet wound, “Be careful how you tell my wife.”  He also told them, “Go easy on him,” when they started beating Czolgosz with their pistol butts, in frustration over their own idiocy.

 

McKinley was the second assassinated president, after James Garfield, who would have lived had he encountered a doctor who was only the equivalent of a first-year veterinary student today.  But no could do.

 

Forget it, Mac. It’s Buffalo.

Virtual Baseball: Defiant Yankees Win Again, Cut Lead to 3 Games. Red Bear Market Continues to Run Amok!

By HoraceClarke66

Virtual Ma Boone defied a direct order from eagle-wary Yankees GM Brian Cashman that he start Cessa tonight “and stop all this contending for first nonsense.” Instead, Boone started Masahiro Tanaka, who gutted it out—because, that’s what he does—for seven big innings, allowing just two runs as the Yanks bested Houston’s beloved cheaters, 3-2.

Tanaka struck out seven, surrendered just five hits—and just as Gerrit Cole had done the night before—began the game by hitting Jose Altuve with his first pitch. 

 

The umpires immediately warned the Yankees against retaliating, if the Astros retaliated.

 

The big blow for the Bombers was a two-run homer by Aaron Judge, but once Tanaka left the game it took shutout innings by Mike King and then Aroldis “Cool Hand” Chapman to clinch the win.  Chapman loaded the bases with three walk, but ultimately wriggled out of the jam by striking out Altuve to end the game.

 

Delighted as the crowd was by the win and Tampa Bay’s loss tonight, enthusiasm was dampened behind the Lonn Trost Memorial Moat, as the Dow dropped below 24,000, and charges of secret Russian interference proliferated. 

 

The White House offered no comment in response, save to say that the president and his family had enjoyed another fine day of snorkeling lessons.

The Mets Will Always Be In Contention

By HoraceClarke66 

 

 In 2019, your New York Mets played almost two whole months of passable baseball.

 

After starting August 4th at 54-56, they went 32-20 the rest of the way, a blistering—all right, mildly chafing—.577 pace that took them from fourth place in the National League East, 11 games out, all the way to third place in the National League East, 11 games out.

 

In other words, what used to be considered the very essence of a stress-free “money drive.” In today’s baseball, though, this kept the Mets in contention for a playoff spot until there were only five games left in the season.

 

This year, the Mets’ have been even more ineffectual, going 25-30 through tonight’s win against Tampa Bay. But with eight teams in each league reaching meaningful games in October, the Flushing Baymen are still in contention for a playoff spot!

 

All in all, it’s rather baffling how the Mets, the special favorite of the juju gods, can be really this bad. Their top starter has now turned in one of the best three-year stretches of pitching in postwar, major-league history and they are leading the NL in hits, batting average, and on-base percentage.

 

Jogginson, our Jogginson, is batting .324 with 9 homers in just 42 games. Dominic Smith is at .323, with 41 ribbies; Jeff McNeil is hitting .321, Michael Conforto is at .328 with 9 homers and is playing a dazzling all-around game. To have a losing record with such performances is just so, well, Mets.

 

But they’re still in contention! And more and more, this is the model MLB is turning to with its extended playoffs.

 

Don’t be surprised if the new, 8-playoff team format becomes permanent next year. Anything to accommodate all of MLB’ incompetent or skinflint ownership teams (Looking at you on both counts, Mets!)

 

Tampa Bay, baseball’s very own black hole of anonymity, looks ready to put the Metsies out of their misery for this season. But who know? A sudden win streak, and a team like NYM would be in the playoffs, where they are just the sort of mercurial crew who could get hot for a month and win it all.

 

Every time a new playoff slot gets its wing, the game we love is cheapened and degraded just a little bit more. But don’t worry: the Mets will always be in contention. 
 

Virtual Baseball: The Master Is Back! Cole Train Steamrolls the Cheatstros! Wall Street in Freefall!

In virtual baseball today, what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches toward Toronto? 

 

“Why, I’m that rough beast, although really, it’s mostly bed hair,” the Voice of the Yankees, John Sterling acknowledged on his appearance in the Bombers’ clubhouse at the Margaret Trudeau Dome in Toronto. “And I’m here to say: There’s no predicting the flashes of genius on the part of radical mystic Irish poets.  Or the curative power of induced comas!”

 

Sterling was flown to Toronto in the private plane of substitute Yankees anchor Walt “Clyde” Frazier, who had also sent his private physician to examine Sterling, and bust him out of the Hebrew Home at Riverdale.

 

“It’s a nice nest to steal a rest, but when you need a ring, time to call the king,” Clyde told reporters. 

 

The team seemed to respond immediately to The Master’s presence back in the Stadium’s Karz-for-Krazy-Kat Broadcast Booth, bulldozing the Houston Astros by 11-1. Gerrit Cole got the Yankees off to a feisty start by knocking down Houston leadoff cheat Jose Altuve with a neck-high fastball. 

 

After that, Aaron Judge, Gary Sanchez, D.J. LeMahieu, and Miguel Andujar all launched rockets into the stands against a thoroughly cowed Houston team, while Cole pitched his mind-boggling fifth complete game of the season.

 

Afterwards, Yankees GM Brian Cashman was overheard reprimanding Virtual Manager Ma Boone for starting Cole.

 

“I told you: the division is lost. Rest Cole and the other leading humanoids until the Wild Card Play-In game!” Cashman instructed.

 

“You don’t run this team.  I do,” Boone responded, to which Cashman replied.  “I will end you!”

 

“Well, tempers run a little hot around playoff time, it’s always the same,” Boone told reporters about the contretemps.  “Why, my daddy used to tell me about how Dallas Green once tried to run him over in the parking lot after he’d called for a slider with the game on the line. These things happen between professionals who really care.”

 

Meanwhile, the Red Bear ran amok on Wall Street again, as the Dow dropped below 25,000 for the first time in months.  With investors crowding the street of downtown Manhattan in an obvious panic, analysts were surprised that President Donald J. Trump had no tweet to issue on the situation.

 

Instead, the president was seen rushing the entire first family to the basement pool in the White House.

 

“No time to talk.  Snorkeling lessons,” the usually loquacious chief executive said cryptically.

A bad week could send the Yankees to Minnesota, where HRs die at the track

One of humankind's great paradoxes is how "the biggest game of the season (TM)" constantly shifts. For example, tonight: Gerrit Cole will pitch the biggest game of the season (TM). Then, tomorrow, we'll play a bigger game. Then come three against the Mattingly's of Miami: Biggest games of the season, (TM), each.

Shout it loud: Last Games Matter!

But wait... arguably, these games don't. A week from now, the Yankees almost certainly will play their favorite cat toy, the Twins, in a best-of-three playoff - each game expanding in its supreme bigness.  

Still, tonight could foreshadow the juju gods' plans for 2020, an already cursed season. We hoped our recent 10-game winning streak reflected the Yankee Normal: a supercharged lineup with Judge, Stanton, Urshela, a newly retooled Sanchez and Gardner, and Second Coming of of Pedro. Now, if we lose three straight - including two blowouts - those wins look like a glitch in the Matrix, the blue pill... a weather pattern rather than climate change. 

Here's where things stand, if the season ended today:

#1 Rays host Toronto.
#2 White Sox host Cleveland.
#3 A's host Houston.
#4 Twins host Yankees. 

With five to play, we trail Minnesota by one in the loss column. (Forget the Rays, we're four behind.) If we run the table - win all five - we can overtake the Twins. (In their last 10, they are 6-4, winning two in a row.) Anything less, and they probably take home field advantage. (If we end up tying them in losses, the Twins will have the advantage, because - remember those COVID cancellations? - they will have played one more game.

While we're in italics, a thought: If the Yankees take their next two, and pull ahead of 'Sota in winning percentage, have someone - thinking of you, crazy Eric Kratz! - FAKE a Covid test, forcing the team into quarantine for the final two games. We rest our starters while the Twins must play. Diabolical, eh? Come on, Cashman, you need me in the front office!) 

So... where was I? Oh, shit, the italics are off... um... humina-humina-humina... big game tonight, eh?

Maybe not. Without screaming fans, how important is home field advantage? Yeah, it's nice to sleep in your own bed, crap on your own throne, and eat your game-day bagel at Sal's Kosher-Rama. And those fake fans will surely be loud. Aside from that, certain Yankees might find another concern about playing in Minnesota: Target Field.

I'm referring to DJ LeMahieu, Luke Voit and Clint Frazier, who have adapted their swings to the short Yankee Stadium right field porch. (Note: In no way am I suggesting they hit cheap HRs. On the contrary, kudos to them for showing the ability to change!)

Statistically, Yankee Stadium is the third most homer-happy park in MLB (behind Great American Ball Park in Cincinnati and the Rogers Center in Toronto.) Target Field, on the other hand, ranks 23rd out of 31. (This year, Sahlen Field in Buffalo ranks 25th.)

The difference is hard to ignore: Target's right field line measures 331 feet - 17 feet farther than Yankee Stadium. Our HRs that reach the first five rows in NY... next week, they're fly ball outs. And we're a team that wins by the HR.

Of course, the grass cuts both ways. J.A. Happ - king of the gopher ball - might throw a few less goners. Same with Masahiro Tanaka. Each might have a big game in him. In a three-game set, that's all you need. 

Either way, tonight, it's the biggest game of the season (TM). And from now on, they just get bigger.

Monday, September 21, 2020

Are we being too hard on "The Office Boy," "Coops," "Brain," Brian Cashman?

FROM THE MAGICAL KEYBOARD OF HORACECLARKE66...

Words that I never thought I would find myself writing. But with Saturday night’s win, your New York Yankees clinched their 28th consecutive winning season. 

 Even with this year’s sad, mangled cat of a season, that’s not a record to sneer at. As far as I can tell after a quick survey, the only team that’s ever topped that mark was…your New York Yankees, with 39 consecutive winning seasons from 1926-1964.

 

(Take away Babe Ruth’s “Bellyache Heard Round the World” in 1925, and it probably would have been 46 straight. But into every Yankee fan’s life a little rain must fall.)

 

Our main problem with Coops has been his teams’ continual flops in the postseason. The Yankees have been eliminated in their last 7 straight playoff appearances, not even managing to make the World Series in the 2010s.

 

That record of falling short of the ring is tied for the worst streak in franchise history…with Cashman’s 2001-2007 Yankees teams. 

 

But even so, is that really such a reflection on our sad-eyed little office Machiavellian? After all, the last 4 straight eliminations have come at the hands of confessed cheaters, the Houston Wirewearers and the Boston Beansuckers.

 

A number of those earlier October face-splats can also be plausibly laid at the feet of Joe Torre, much as we love him, such as the time he apparently suffered petite-mal seizures on the bench and refused to give the steal sign when Boston’s catcher literally could not catch the ball in 2004, or when our pitcher was attacked by ravenous Cleveland insects in 2007.

 

For that matter, doesn’t this also reflect MLB’s cheapening of its product by continually adding rounds of playoffs?  More than in any other major sport, a short playoff series distorts true quality in baseball. It’s as if the Super Bowl or the NBA championship games consisted of a single quarter—at most.

 

During these 28 regular seasons, the Yankees have not only had a winning record every single year. They have also finished first 15 times, made the postseason 23 times (assuming they clinch a spot in the next day or two), compiled the best record in the American League 10 times, and the best record in major-league baseball 5 times.

 

The Yankees also had the most wins in each of the first two decades of this century—even if many of those teams were powered primarily by players first developed or acquired by the holy trinity of Stick, Buck, and Bob.

 

In other words, for all our dismay at the ultimate failures come October—14 of 15 and counting—hasn’t Cashman given us what we really want most of all, which is, day after day, year after year, to beat in other teams’ heads with a rock until what’s inside spills out like so much guava jelly?

 

Well, maybe.

 

But here is where I think we have a legitimate beef. In perusing Tom Verducci’s book with Joe Torre on Joe’s time in the Bronx, The Yankee Years, we find this passage in reference to Torre being fired after the 2007 season:

 

“The Yankees, meanwhile, were abysmal when it came to age and injuries. They flushed away $22.22 million on players who couldn’t play, or almost 12 percent of their bloated payroll. They lost 1,081 player days to the disabled list, more than three times as many down days as had the Indians [who eliminated our guys that year, with an assist from the midges]. Over the previous three seasons, the Yankees ranked 23rd in baseball in days lost to the disabled list, a trend that would continue in 2008.”

 

Not to mention all the way to 2020.  Then there’s this, from the same source:

 

“In Torre’s final 17 postseason games, his starters were 2-8 with a 6.36 ERA while averaging only 4 2/3 innings and three strikeouts per start.”

 

In other words, it’s always the same, going back over much of the past two decades. The constant overrating of over-aged ballplayers, the inability to keep stars on the field, the frittering away of the team’s monetary advantage, and the failure to have a good enough starting staff to bull the Yanks through the postseason, when starting pitching matters the most. 

 

Throw in a constant failure to provide his managers with enough role players on the bench or effective relievers in the pen for October, and that pretty much covers why the Brain has been unable to even get to the Series since 2009—and NEVER with a team he built himself.

 

Would even the best general managers whatever was lose fluke playoff rounds today? Sure. Would any decent GM lose them so consistently?    

We'll soon know if Deivi Garcia is our October surprise

Yesterday, a site called Last Word on Sports posted this remarkably ill-timed, pre-game thought.

Nerves, anxiety, and adrenaline are a few of many emotions that flood the mind and body of an athlete before, or even during, a big game. None of these, it appears, are present within New York Yankees right-handed pitcher Deivi Garcia as he prepares to take the mound Sunday for his fifth MLB start.

Turns out, Garcia not only showed none of the emotions that flood the mind and body of an athlete, he showed no command. He gave up six runs over three innings to a lineup that boasted five batters hitting below their weights - .220 - inspiring a blowout loss to baseball's third worst team. The game devolved into a Trumpian chaos with our backup catcher Eric Kratz on the mound, yelling "Watch out!" to a batter, and a renegade Bostonian fan threatening to leap from the Green Monster. For the first time in 2020, we lost to the self-tanking Redsocks. 

But, hey, as Jimmy Kimmel could have said at the Emmys last night: Schitt happens, right? 

Today, some follow-up questions: 

What can we expect from Deivi Garcia in the post-season? 

Were we wrong to assign him such an accelerated pace of development, and to basically slot him into a playoffs rotation after just three starts?

Yesterday afternoon, as the YES experts mused, J.A. Happ became our probable third playoffs starter, if one is needed. Garcia should get one last shot at redemption against the Marlins this weekend. If he pitches well, the Yankees will have a decision to make. If he gets whacked, our fourth starter will probably be Chad Green and the cast of Knot's Landing. 

Today is a fine time to ponder the future of Garcia: a fiery 21-year-old who does not seem haunted by the nerves, anxiety and blah-blah-blah. In a real season, he would have thrown 100 innings at Scranton and only now be cracking the expanded September roster. He's had a great year, made vast inroads. And who knows: Maybe those news clippings that compared the kid to Pedro messed him up more than we think. Maybe yesterday, he did feel the nerves, the anxiety and the adrenaline. Maybe the internet is just full of bullshit. (Aside from this site and its commentators, of course.) 

Today, we are tied in the loss column with Minnesota for home field advantage in the first round.


Our last "critical" series of the season begins tonight. Toronto. Gerrit Cole pitches. This is why we signed him. This is no rookie. This is why we hope.

Virtual Baseball: Yanks Lose Another One Just Like the Other One. Is This the End???

By HoraceClarke66

The virtual Toronto Blue Jays completed a three-game sweep of the Yankees today at the Margaret Trudeau Dome this afternoon, dropping the Bombers four-games behind the first-place Tampa ay Rays. 

 

The Yanks looked listless throughout the game. Kyle Higashioka’s two-run homer gave the New Yorkers an early lead, but starter Jordan Montgomery gave it right back, on a long, three-run shot by Bo “The Real” Bichette. Vlad, Jr., and Lourdes, Jr. added epic shots of their own, en route to an 8-3 victory.

 

Yankees GM Brian Cashman made a visit to his team’s clubhouse after the game, and told manager Ma Boone and his players straight out that the division race was over, and they should now start planning for the one-game wild card play-in playoff play-through game.

 

“Forget about Tampa Bay.  They’re gone!  The end of this season is all too predictable,” Cashman told the Yanks.

 

Just as he did, though, a familiar, rather bizarrely coiffed figure appeared in the clubhouse door.

 

“I think you’re forgetting one thing, Mr. Cashman,” came the voice from the doorway.  “There’s no predicting baseball.”

Sunday, September 20, 2020

Are we being too hard on (The Office Boy) (Coops) (Brain) Brian Cashman?

By HoraceClarke66

Words that I never thought I would find myself writing. But with Saturday night’s win, your New York Yankees clinched their 28th consecutive winning season. 

 

Even with this year’s sad, mangled cat of a season, that’s not a record to sneer at. As far as I can tell after a quick survey, the only team that’s ever topped that mark was…your New York Yankees, with 39 consecutive winning seasons from 1926-1964.

 

(Take away Babe Ruth’s “Bellyache Heard Round the World” in 1925, and it probably would have been 46 straight. But into every Yankee fan’s life a little rain must fall.)

 

Our main problem with Coops has been his teams’ continual flops in the postseason. The Yankees have been eliminated in their last 7 straight playoff appearances, not even managing to make the World Series in the 2010s.

 

That record of falling short of the ring is tied for the worst streak in franchise history…with Cashman’s 2001-2007 Yankees teams. 

 

But even so, is that really such a reflection on our sad-eyed little office Machiavellian? After all, the last 4 straight eliminations have come at the hands of confessed cheaters, the Houston Wirewearers and the Boston Beansuckers.

 

A number of those earlier October face-splats can also be plausibly laid at the feet of Joe Torre, much as we love him, such as the time he apparently suffered petite-mal seizures on the bench and refused to give the steal sign when Boston’s catcher literally could not catch the ball in 2004, or when our pitcher was attacked by ravenous Cleveland insects in 2007.

 

For that matter, doesn’t this also reflect MLB’s cheapening of its product by continually adding rounds of playoffs?  More than in any other major sport, a short playoff series distorts true quality in baseball. It’s as if the Super Bowl or the NBA championship games consisted of a single quarter—at most.

 

During these 28 regular seasons, the Yankees have not only had a winning record every single year. They have also finished first 15 times, made the postseason 23 times (assuming they clinch a spot in the next day or two), compiled the best record in the American League 10 times, and the best record in major-league baseball 5 times.

 

The Yankees also had the most wins in each of the first two decades of this century—even if many of those teams were powered primarily by players first developed or acquired by the holy trinity of Stick, Buck, and Bob.

 

In other words, for all our dismay at the ultimate failures come October—14 of 15 and counting—hasn’t Cashman given us what we really want most of all, which is, day after day, year after year, to beat in other teams’ heads with a rock until what’s inside spills out like so much guava jelly?

 

Well, maybe.

 

But here is where I think we have a legitimate beef. In perusing Tom Verducci’s book with Joe Torre on Joe’s time in the Bronx, The Yankee Years, we find this passage in reference to Torre being fired after the 2007 season:

 

“The Yankees, meanwhile, were abysmal when it came to age and injuries. They flushed away $22.22 million on players who couldn’t play, or almost 12 percent of their bloated payroll. They lost 1,081 player days to the disabled list, more than three times as many down days as had the Indians [who eliminated our guys that year, with an assist from the midges]. Over the previous three seasons, the Yankees ranked 23rd in baseball in days lost to the disabled list, a trend that would continue in 2008.”

 

Not to mention all the way to 2020.  Then there’s this, from the same source:

 

“In Torre’s final 17 postseason games, his starters were 2-8 with a 6.36 ERA while averaging only 4 2/3 innings and three strikeouts per start.”

 

In other words, it’s always the same, going back over much of the past two decades. The constant overrating of over-aged ballplayers, the inability to keep stars on the field, the frittering away of the team’s monetary advantage, and the failure to have a good enough starting staff to bull the Yanks through the postseason, when starting pitching matters the most. 

 

Throw in a constant failure to provide his managers with enough role players on the bench or effective relievers in the pen for October, and that pretty much covers why the Brain has been unable to even get to the Series since 2009—and NEVER with a team he built himself.

 

Would even the best general managers whatever was lose fluke playoff rounds today? Sure. Would any decent GM lose them so consistently?

Virtual Baseball: Azure Fowl Down Superman and Clarke! Yanks 4 Back With 8 to Play— Cashman Concedes.

By HoraceClarke66, whose computer is a bad boy.

The virtual New York Yankees' division title hopes took a giant step backwards tonight, as the 

team lost another close one to Canada's pride and joy.

The virtual Yanks took an early lead on a three-run homer by Mike Ford, filling in for a visibly
limping Luke Voit.  But the Yanks' rookie superman, Deivi Garcia, gave up a two-run shot
to Lourdes Gurriel, Jr., and struggled to get through five innings.  

Mild-mannered Clarke Schmidt, who has also impressed, took over for Garcia in the sixth,
but surrendered his own two-run shot to Randal Grichuk, which accounted for the 4-3 final.

"How could you chuck that chuck against a hitter like Grichuk?"  Schmidt was asked after the
game, but replied, "I'd like to see you chuck some some chuck against that Grichuk!"

Schmidt then rushed away to make "a very important phone call" in a public booth, but
manager came to his defense when it came to chucking at Grichuk.

"How high would Grichuk hit, if a Girchuk could hit chuck like that?  I guess if Grichuk could
hit chuck, he would chuck it all.  But that's not the issue," Boone said.

Boone himself came in for his share of criticism, as he continued to hold back the team's top 
starters for the last two series of the year, against Houston and first-place Tampa Bay.

"Now it doesn't matter, it's over, it's done," a sniffling Brian Cashman told reporters.  "I wanted
Boonie to start Cole tonight, but he decided that for once he could think on his own.  Well, it 
just doesn't matter anymore—does it?"  

As things stand now, it looks as though the Yanks would host either Minnesota or Cleveland, 
now engaged in a torrid fight for the other wild card spot.  But Commissioner Rob ManfredvonRichtofen announced that if the Yankees were indeed to play the Twins yet again in the first round of the playoffs, there would likely be a congressional investigation.