In the post-Mo-pocalyptical world, we will struggle to survive

Joe will have to keep pitchers on a shorter leash.

The team might replace Suzyn with CJ Nitkowski.

 

At times, David Robertson looks a bit overwhelmed by the pressure.

And we'll still have to face Pedroia and Big Papi.

 

Once we're out of it, A-Rod should start serving his suspension... and more ideas of how to enjoy the last meaningless week

One loss, and we can party like it's 1989! Or maybe it doesn't even matter. But here are more ideas of how to enjoy the final, exciting week of 2013.

1. Let A-Rod start serving his prison time. He could knock eight games off a 50-game suspension - that's 16 percent! It works for Judge Kenesaw Mountain Selig's team in Milwaukee. It works for Francisco Cervelli. It works for any player on a team playing meaningless games. Why not A-Rod? He can keep his appeal, but agree to start serving - as an act of good faith. Man, would that piss off Selig, or what?

2. Billy Crystal. Bring back the greatest-ever Yankee spring training breath of spring. He has a memoir out. It's got laughs on every page (so read it with a whisk broom.) He needs ink. Let him DH for a game. Good grief, with A-Rod gone, let him play 3B. We're not losing much.

3. Dellin Betances. Has anyone seen him? Should we file with the missing persons bureau? Last I knew, the Yankees brought him up from Scranton, and he pitched an inning. Then, poof, he seemed to vanish into a time and space continuum, while Joe salted the Yankee hopes by giving the ball repeatedly to the Foghorns and the Jobas - and we sure know how that turned out. Mount a campaign: If someone can find Dellin Betances, they will receive a toaster oven or something.

4. John Sterling must manage. We've covered this before. It needs to be repeated.

5. Finally, 1989 Day at Yankee Stadium. All fans wearing 1989 clothes admitted free. (This includes most of the homeless population of NYC!)  We'll hold Rain Man impersonation contests. Maybe George H.W. Bush can skydive onto the field. Can Bernie Williams play a tribute to Madonna? The Yankees are going back to 1989. Just five quick years, and we'll be a contender again!

Let the record show that Andy Pettitte went down fighting

They say Andy Pettitte will make it official today. He's hanging them up.

You can talk about legacy, leadership, clubhouse glue and Hall of Fame credentials. But whatever you say, don't forget to mention that over the last month, during this team's last gasp for a post-season birth, Andy was our best starting pitcher. Our bullpen collapsed. He never let us down.

That 1989 void we're about to enter - the one that began when Alphonso Soriano got picked off second - it just got a little darker. God help us.

In the final, meaningless week, let John Sterling manage... and other ideas born from spite

First, let The Master manage a game. Suzyn can be bench coach. CJ Nitkowski can run the Hertz 24-7 booth. We'll play A.B.C. baseball... we'll move the runners... and I gotta believe that if John talks to them about the importance of hitting with men in scoring position, we'll come through.

Bring up Pat Venditte, humanity's only switch-pitcher. We never gave him a chance. We'll lose him this winter. Let him throw from the right and left side. Sell some tickets. And heck, we'll see what happens.

Start Joba Chamberlain! No more "Joba rules" about using him. It's obvious that his future is not as a reliever. Now is the time. Maybe he'll throw a no-hitter. Maybe this is what we should have done, all along. That would put some fannies in the molded plastic. Start him. See what happens.

In one game, play Vernon Wells one inning at every position. Bert Campaneris did it. This would enhance Vernon's resume for the Hall of Fame. He played infield for us early in the season. If he can just catch an inning and then pitch the ninth, he'll not only go down in history, but solidify his 2014 role as the perfect utility man. We have him next year, you know. Free. So he's ours.

Let Ichiro try player-managing a game. This could be a prelude to 2014, if Joe runs to Chicago. Ichiro would make a great player-manager. Plus, if he play-manages, we get good value for the money. 

Play A-Rod at SS. We never tried him there. Jeter was in the way. He's not in the way now.

Change the name of River Avenue. Yes, the honor is long overdue: Preston Claiborne Lane!

And Hudson Bay can become Lyleover Bay. While we're on the subject, let Lyle bat leadoff. He's just six HRs away from the magical 20. Come on, folks, let's have fun!

The grownups are talking about The Master

All because Toronto cheated A-Rod out of a home run.

One week after the great humilation, the questions are taking form

Six nights ago in Boston, the Yankees had clawed back from a four-run deficit to tie the game in the seventh. Joe lifted Hiroki Kuroda with a man first. Cesar Cabral hit big Papi. And then we brought in Preston Claiborne, thinking, "Thank God we don't have to use Joba!"

Thus ended the New York Yankees, as we once knew them.

Within five minutes, Boston was dancing on our graves, and we were as dead as any bargain basement team ever assembled in the sweatshops of Houston or Miami. Dead, dead, dead. We just didn't know it.

Six nights ago, if you had told me we'd lose the next five of six, including two out of three to the cupcake Blue Jays, I would have laughed. But here we are: the ultimate Tomato Can of Cupcakes. 

We will have six months to reflect on how we spent $236 million to reach fourth place in a five-team division. But short of spending another $300 million on free agents - who, frankly, won't be there - we are mired in a quicksand of mediocrity with a looming shadow of unanswered questions.

Why in God's name did we sign Ichiro to a two-year contract?

What is the point of having Vernon Wells return, regardless of whether the Angels pay his salary?

Who will tell Derek Jeter that he's not covering enough ground to play SS at age 40?

If A-Rod is banned for 75 games, do we once again turn to the David Adamses and Alberto Gonzalezes of the world?

Is there any one pitcher we would designate next year our "ace?"

Is the definition of good management - for a $200 billion operation, not counting the value of the YES network - relentlessly combing the scrapheap for castoffs, who give us two good weeks before reverting to the form that originally got them waived? (Or should we just continue to assume the other teams are stupid, and when they waived the player, they didn't know what they were doing?)

If we are determined to cut payroll to some magical $187 million figure - which will bring long term savings on luxury tax - how in hell do we can keep Robinson Cano, the only all-star caliber player in our lineup?

And if we break the bank and keep Cano, what was the point of the austerity program that was invoked all season when two-year contracts were considered? (And, remarkably, this was ignored for Ichiro.) It's like the Yankees are being run by a five-old, who is being home-schooled by the Tea Party.

What happened to all those departing free agents in 2013-14 who were likely to give us first round picks next summer? Looks to me like we won't extend qualifying offers to Phil Hughes, Joba or even Granderson - though that's a quandary in itself, eh? They'll walk, and we'll get nothing.

If we lose Cano - and who cannot help but see that as a burgeoning possibility - what part of our team - outfield, infield, battery, starters, bullpen - looks to be playoff caliber?

In one week, we have become completely undressed. Six years ago, the plan was to build a farm system and spend our money wisely, ensuring the Yankees would always contend. Now, we're looking at 1988 all over again. What an inept, horrible franchise. Will anybody answer to our predicament?

It's over

Attention Must Be Paid !!

The Red Devil Sox are laying down for Baltimore.

We will pay them back.

Someday.

Somehow.

Do you believe in miracles? Nooooooooo!

Truth: I thrusted and moaned last night until the seventh inning, then pulled out and soaked my fanhood in a bucket of ice water, until the throbbing diminished. There's a point where you're losing to another cupcake, nobody's hitting, and you wonder what you're doing with your life... bothering to watch, to care, to self-immolate. Over the years, I've hit that blood-slicked crossroads many times. Last night, in the seventh inning, I reached it again:

My Liam Hemsworth-fed-up-with-Miley Cyrus moment.

Doesn't matter how great she twerks, how cool she is, or the things she can do on a coffee table. You just can't take another shutout. She strands too many base runners, which is a way of describing blue balls - midnight blue balls - and you have to leave. So you flick off the TV and drive away, and the moment you're gone, she holds a party, scores four runs in the eighth, and brings in Mo to get the save. You can't win.

Maybe if I'd left the 2013 Yankees two weeks ago, we'd still be in a relationship. But it's over, me and Miley. And it's over for all of us.

Ten games left. We are four in the loss column behind Tampa Bay. Even if we sweep them, which we won't, we can't overtake them. We are three behind Texas, two behind both Cleveland and Baltimore, and tied with Kansas City. If we win all 10 - which we won't - some team will also get hot. We are the Anthony Weiner of this wild card race: Everybody is rooting against us, laughing at us, taunting us, but because we get all the media attention, some people assume we're in the lead. We are the cupcake in this race. It's over. 

I'm sorry to be this way. Really. I prefer to remember the young Miley, back in April, when Vernon Wells and Pronk delivered huge hits, and we believed the cavalry was en route. We united behind A-Rod, despite the scorn of the world. We suffered with Jeet and Tex, and we waited and waited and waited for Grandy. We battled to believe. Good grief, there are still Yankee fans out there who think Joba would have been a great starter...

My friends, hope is a terrible thing to lose. You never forget your first love - whether it was Mickey, Thurman, Mariano or Miley. Here's to you, kid. We'll always have Disney.

Something We Haven't Considered.....

As I watched RA Dickey undress hitter after hitter, it occurred to me that something beyond Yankee incompetence could be happening.

Is it possible that this team has already left the building?

That they are, " mailing it in?"

I think a number of these players ( one or two, anyway ) remember the humiliation, last play-off season, in Detroit.  Where no one could do anything on the Yankees.  Pitchers couldn't pitch, hitters couldn't hit, and no one could catch or throw.

Suddenly, the Yankees were  a team to be bullied.  To be taunted and embarrassed. Almost as if the baseball gods ( or fairies, depending ) were providing "payback" for all the years of well-earned world championships.

Who wants to be bullied?

Perhaps it is better to simply fold up the tent during the normal season and, thereby, avoid another spectacle of shame.

Imagine, if you will, winning a one-game play-in only to face Boston again, this time losing by 15-20 runs per game.  Imagine having to use Cano and Romine on the mound, in relief, to close out games because everyone else has been hammered.

Who would want the great Mariano to leave with that memory?

I think the orders have come in from Cashman.

It is over.  Don't score any runs.

Simple.

Yankees shut out for 10th time in one season

Last time a Yankee team produced 10 shutouts: 1991.

And, oh, a great season it was. We finished fifth. Suzyn Waldman was performing in Man of La Mancha. John Sterling was in his second year with the team.

The Yankee-Indian Point Power Report did not exist. If it had, Matt Nokes would have been our leader, with 24 HRs. Next up was Kevin "No" Maas, who hit 23, mostly in the brief blitz that defined his career. We had stolen Jesse Barfield from the Blue Jays in exchange for Al Leiter. (Warning to fans of Alfonso Soriano/Cody Black?)  And of course, there was Mel Hall - before his sex-abuse convictions - bringing his gun into the locker room, walking his cougars on Manhattan streets and torturing young Bernie Williams.

That team had 10 shutouts, too. It won 71 games. (And if Bud Selig's extra two Wild Card slots had been in effect, they also would have been in the race in September.)

Well, 2013 will soon be over. That's the best you can say about this team. But while we chase the Wild Card, or our tails, let's ponder the possibility of an 11th shutout.

Lord knows what magical Yankee team from the prehistoric past notched eleven zero outings. Something tells me Hoss Clarke might have had a hand in it.

That's the level of mediocrity we have achieved this year. You can blame injuries. You can talk about budget cuts. You can find magnetic fields and amulets, if you wish. Ten shutouts. That's a bad team.

Our Chances

The Yankees will come out swinging tonight.

After three missed punches and a pulled ligament.

Still standing but the room is pretty empty.

Is there even a reason to keep punching?

Better to enjoy a drink.

Boston's grand and glorious "tribute" to Mariano

For starters, a disclaimer: I didn't see it.  I tweaked a gonad during the NY Giants game and was still in the whirlpool, waiting to see Dr. Andrews (which would make a great phrase to describe being passed out on the couch, right?)  Also, frankly: I didn't want to see it. I figured their idea of a "tribute" would be a gag bag of cheap references to 2004. Seriously, didn't everyone?

Well, folks, here is the reality:

We will never, in our lifetimes, live down 2004.  Won't matter if we make it to the asteroid, the zombie apocalypse, or the death panel hearing: Some caustic Redsock frat-boy will mention Mariano's blown save just to watch the last bubble from our lip, the last blip on our flat-line. Curt Schilling's ketchup sock will never go away.

So... giving the Great Mariano a big check and a bunch of door prizes was simply an excuse to hold a beery 2004 nostalgia party, like the one we ruined when Fenway turned 100. This was always fated to happen. No reason to get angry. Next year, or maybe in 2015, when Derek Jeter runs his final lap, maybe we should reconsider sanctioning such events. But we will deal with 2004 forever. That's a fact. 

But there was something particularly Redsockian about Sunday night's party, and it goes to the nature of honoring a closer. Imagine Big Papi's final game at Yankee Stadium, and some misguided attempt by us to honor him. Would we post a cavalcade of his strikeouts on the Jumbo-Tron? Would we show all his errors (back when he actually played in the field.)  No, of course not.  Because that's not how anybody would remember him. Ahh, but a closer...

There is no role in baseball - or in all of sports - like the closer. Yes, football has the QB and the place-kicker, but they both play an entire game. The closer comes in for three outs. Thus, every game has the potential for a Buckner moment - the kind of disaster that most players experience once or twice in a long career. If you think about it, focusing on Mariano's blown saves  was really a petty thing to do. Everybody knows he blew it in 2004. Everybody. It was like a comedian using the same catchphrase three times, then four, then 10 times in the same routine. They didn't have to reference it. They could have been so much above it - and everybody still would have remembered it.

So they gave him a chunk of the scoreboard, the big check, a nice ovation and - get this - a painting of them giving him a standing ovation. Yes, they commissioned a self-portrait of themselves basking in their great moment of forgiveness and generosity.

They have this self-image of being evolved from the days when they traded Carlton Fisk, booed Wade Boggs and tore down Roger Clemens' pictures.  They really like the notion of a painting that shows them standing graciously for Mariano. That's how they want to see themselves: Enlightened, forgiving, fair, magnanimous. 

What a joke.

Another disclaimer: I recognize that my lowest incarnation as a human being is the monster inside me that roots for the Yankees. As a Yankee fan, I am a bi-polar, borderline, psycho nutjob. Always was, always will be. I believe that because I am a bi-polar borderline psycho Yankee fan,  I am not one the rest of the time. The Yankees are what saves me from living under a bridge and talking to Pez dispensors.  (Take that, Dr.  Melfi!) Therefore, I am going to give Boston fans a little slack here and say what I believe they were thinking, as that "tribute" played.

"Aw, this is so wrong.  We are ridiculing a great player - he's the one being gracious, not us. And sometime, down the line, we will pay for this."

That's for the future. Are you watching, Slade Heathcott? 

"A long drive on the Long Island Expressway with a broken radio and a wet dog."

The Yankee Post-Season Panic Quiz.

Even Ying and Yang Are Dead

It used to be that if the Yankees had a great year, the (NFL) Giants would be a disaster.

And the reverse was also true.

Now, we seem to have entered a new "Karma Zone," wherein the Yankees and the Giants can simultaneously, and sequentially, suck.

I have been saying all year, that Brian Cashman is a failure, and should be long gone.   He piggybacked upon the wealth of George Steinbrenner, and helped purchase necessary, augmenting players who won numerous championships.  The real work of recent great teams, however, had nothing to do with Cashman.

It was Gene Michael who brought us Derek, Bernie, Jorge, Andy and Mariano.  A core that Cashman could spend around.  A core that, only today, is eroding to the max.

The legacy that Cashman drafted and traded for includes; Phil Hughes, Joba, Jason Nix, Andy Brackman, a brace of .210 hitting catchers, Michael Pineda, Banuelos  and Dellin Bettances.  I can extend this list all the way to "A" ball, and the conclusion is the same;  we are nothing, and have nothing.

If Cashman was paid a commission by hospitals for various forms of arm surgery, he'd be a hero.  But he is supposed to provide exciting young talent which can thrive at the major league level.  Who can deliver when we need a big hit or defensive play.  Instead, we have guys who strike out, hit into double plays, get picked off bases, throw the ball into the dugout and just miss making big catches in the outfield.

El Duque says that, if the Yankees declare a re-building " ( which they NEVER will do ), we have a chance to be competitive with Boston in maybe two years.

I disagree.

It will take a totally new administration ( GM, coaching, talent evaluators, talent developers, scouting, drafting, and trades that work rather than suck the life out of us ) to give us any future hope.  That is a five year project, minimum.

But the Yankees will not do so.  Here is the plan they will execute to:

1.  We had a rough year with injuries, and next season we'll be far healthier and the injury bug will bite someone else.

2.  There is no need to re-build.  We get a number of top ( paid ) veterans back, and we a lot of our youngsters got some playing time this season.  Pitchers and position players!

3.  Tex will be back at full strength, as will Derek ( our captain ).  CC had an off year, but he'll come back with fire in his arm and eyes.  If A-Rod can postpone his suspension, or work out a shorter  suspension ( e.g 56 days ) he'll be back for the post all star break push.

 Ichiro has another year and Grandy will be healthy for a full season..  Gardener and Cano, our two best players in 2013, will be rested and healthy.  We just need to add an arm or two ( Pineda, for example ) and a bullpen ace ( we can buy someone from Japan ).

4.  Joe Girardi did his best managing job, ever, this year.  He and his coaching staff are a real strength.

What I am saying is that you will see the same team next year (minus Mariano) and plus one or two free agents ( no one on the team, however, will be under 30 ).

And the result will be the same.  Actually, the result will be worse.

Boston is winning because they changed everything and everyone in the front office, and numerous old warriors on the field.

We must do the same.  But we won't.

Yankees prove Yogi was wrong: It was over, well before it's over

First, a truthiness disclaimer: I did not watch last night's Boston beatdown. Having invested three painful hours on Tom Coughlin's amazingly punchless Snookies of the Jersey Shore, I decided that one TV humiliation per day is enough, and I would not subject myself to a second embarrassment.

Also, I was attempting the ultimate, last-ditch juju move:  

The Don't Watch.

Everybody has tried it. You don't watch, and your team wins. It's a kamikaze move of personal juju, not something to throw out willy-nilly or higgedy-piggedy. If the Yankees had won last night, I would keep not-watching until the end - theoretically, I could never see another victory. If the Don't Watch had worked - (and it has, at times) - and the Yankees rolled 12-0, took the Wild Card, the playoffs and the World Series, launching the greatest Yankee streak in history, I would have only read about it in the Gammonite Gabfestss. That's the personal hell I was prepared to inhabit.

Well, the bastards didn't even throw me a bone.

Fortunately, I am not one of those jujuists who try things like the Cut Off Your Ear (though it worked for Picasso's rugby team.) So now, there is nothing left to fling at the plaster wall. I am out of juju, like Lindsay Lohan is out of DWI arrests, and the Yankees are out of bullpen arms. Soon - I'm thinking Toronto - we will be ejected from the race like one of Hideki Matsui's famous porno DVDs, and we can contemplate the long list of Good Things That Happened to the Yankees in 2013.

Good Things That Happened to the Yankeees in 2013

1. Lyle Oy-Vey.

2. Alfonso Soriano (for a month)

3. Sean Kelly

4. Mariano and Robbie (both farewell tours?)

 5. Toronto was worse.

6. The Mets were worse.

7. The Los Angeles Angels of Alzheimers were worst of the worse.

It's about 140 days until pitchers and catchers show up at camp. Next February, we will finally have the opportunity to see Michael Pineda pitch - assuming he doesn't hurt himself again or eat a baby. By next February, A-Rod will be sitting in some penalty box, or we will have severed ties with him forever. By next February, some new steroid scandal will unfold, unless of course, having not liked the taste of this one, King Bud calls off the dogs and disappears.  By next February, the Super Bowl will have been played in NYC, with the Giants at home, watching on TV.

It's going to be a long, cold winter.

Open letter to the People of Boston

Dear Madams and Sirs,

UNCLE.

That's right. "Uncle." Call off the dogs. You made your point. Please untie our hand from the chopping block and put away the hatchet. Uncle.

You are a better team, a better organization, with better beards and a better stadium. You certainly have a smarter owner than we have. In two years, we might compete, though maybe not. It depends on whether we are willing to take a season to rebuild. This was supposed to be such a season. We didn't.

But listen-up, "Hub Fans:" It's time to stop obsessing over us. Good grief, you're like Jennifer Jason-Leigh in "Single White Female," the way you stare at us, convinced we're going to suddenly rise up and beat you. It's creepy. It's unhealthy. Stop it. Go away. Shoo. Leave us be. I feel like that guy in "Breaking Bad," who was all shot up at the end of last season and just sat next to the river and told Walter, "Go away, and let me die in peace." Yeah, that's how I feel. Go away and let us die in peace.

This was never our year. Yesterday, John Sterling, in the first inning, recounted the scene from "On the Waterfront," where Rod Steiger enters the locker room before Marlon Brando's fight and tells his brother, "It aint your night." John said, it aint our season. It was the first time The Master has ever conceded defeat on a year, before the number bear it out. CJ Nitkowski, playing Suzyn, immediately suggested that Ichiro might have a big day, and we might rise up and still win. John went along with the fantasy. But it's over, folks. We are too old, too weary, and too beaten up. It aint our season.

People of Boston: Maybe it's yours. Frankly, if I were you, I would stop thinking about A-Rod and start worrying about Detroit. But do what you want. Whatever. Uncle.

And a child shall lead them... Cesar Cabral's plunking of Papi was only the second time in his career that a Yankee pitcher hit him

A-Rod's been hit 169 times in his career.

Jeter's been whacked 164 times.

David Ortiz: 33 times.

Not sayin' anybody should be beaned or thrown at.  Ever.

Just noting it...  for the record.

Because our eyes can see.