And so, it is over.  It has officially been terminated.  Yankee Stadium, aka The House That Ruth Built, aka The Big Ballpark (in the Bronx), aka The Stadium, lives to house the National Past Time no more.  A Mickey Mantle monster shot away, the "New" Yankee Stadium, The Boss's billion dollar "gift" to The City and to future generations of Yankee fans and realistically, to the very core of the Major League Baseball industry, sits next to The Stadium waiting for its finishing touches and Opening day 2009.

They will arrive in hoards in the coming year or two - the curious, the front runners, and the faithful.  And they will need to be wealthy, or at least have some room left on their credit cards, that is if they haven't been confiscated by then.

For a family of four to attend this new and improved "Yankee Stadium", it will cost you a car payment and that would be on a Lexus.  Formerly, it 'only' cost you a Ford. 

You read it here first:  Steinbrenner Yankees, Inc., like the the U.S. Federal Government, will eventually have priced themselves out of the market.  Oh, they will fill up the new Fake Yankee Stadium the next year or two on the hype alone.  It certainly won't be because the Yankees are competitve.  Sad for this old Pinstriper to say, but as long as the New York American League Baseball Club employs Alex Rodriquez for 27 plus million per annum, they have no chance of winning.  (This has been my prediction since 2005.)  And eventually, even in the best of economic times (which are hardly around the corner), it is only the winning that keeps the turnstiles cranking to the happy tune of 4 million warm overpaying bodies a year.

But what of the Pinstripe Tradition and the Bronx Bomber History?  Will it not all just fly across the street like some baseball army of ghosts?  Murderers' Row...Five O'clock Lightning...Ruth, Gehrig, Dimaggio, Mantle, Maris, even Reggie...all the winning from Miller Huggins to Joe McCarthy to Casey Stengel to Ralph Houk to Billy Martin to the unmentionable two words, Joe Torre...the southpaw pitching from Pennock to Gomez to Ford to Guidry to Pettite and their righthanded counterparts, Ruffing, Reynolds, Raschi, Stottlemyre and Catfish...Munson and Chamblis and Murcer...and Mel Allen and Red Barber and the Scooter and Bill White and Frank Messer, and on and on and on...what will happen to it all?

Will it majically transfer across the street as wished for and hoped for and urged by Captain Jeter in his post - 'last game ever' plea and gracious thank you to the financially extended but faithful fans? 

If you want the answer to this, someday or evening or night take a ride down to the Bowery, which the New York City P.C. call the 'West Village', and step inside McSorleys Ale House, a quaint little drinking emporium that has stood the test of time.  On the walls you will see what some may term as "memorabilia," photographs and pictures and artifacts that have accumulated in there over many years, going back to, believe it or not, 1854. The signage outside the pub claims "We were here before you were born."  Tip a mug or two of the cheap foamy brew, look around, take a deep breath in and feel the essence of the place, look at  the picture of The Bambino on the wall since the Twenties or maybe the early Thirties as he looks back at you and ask yourself, "Is McSorley's like TGIF or a dozen other memorabilia contrived cookie-cutter  pub-eateries that serve the same-lame-commercialized-homogenized over-priced entrees?"

It is not. 

The New Improved Fake Yankee Stadium might as well be called Fuddrucker's Park.  It is not Yankee Stadium.  The upper deck will not quake in a late inning rally celebration.  The haunting voluminous calls of Pedro...Pedro...Pedro will not echo from the New Stadium's bowels.  The 1980's Bleacher Creatures and their "roll call" will not have evolved into the infamous entity they are today.  And when you looked out upon the Steinbrenner Era fornicaton of what used to be a great expanse of seemingly endless outfield green, the older of us can still imagine Joe D or The Mick, even a young Bobby Murcer making a running backhanded catch out by the monuments 461 feet from home plate.

But no more.

As Yogi said in ESPN's melacholy memorium finale, Yankee Stadium, The House that Ruth Built, will always be inside us...our minds, our hearts, our youth, our souls. 

Goodbye Big Ballpark in the Bronx.  You were one of a kind. 

I haven't posted anything in quite a while. Life can do that to a blogger. Death can too - of friends and family and GI's and children and pets and all of that depressing #### can get a man down.  It happened to me.  Nothing seems worthwhile, not even the blog.  In fact, writing about multi-millionaire union members (incredibly, that's what baseball players are) and the child's game they are paid those mega bucks to play, seems a little stupid like, say, talking to yourself in the mirror.  So who's listening?

So it's the therapy of trying to put some sense to the nonsensical, some logic to the illogical, and some soul to the superficial that propels me at this very second to hunt and peck the keyboard with my two middle fingers.  Do you think there's a little symbolism there?

In case anyone in the black hole of the baseball Blogosphere is interested, here's a few random items which have been on my mind lately.

(1) How does Joe Torre continue to get a pass from the once serious scrutiny of the New York baseball writers?  He knows as much about preserving team chemistry as Bud Selig knows about preserving the integrity of the game.  Latest example:  Yanks have recently (before being rocked in Colorado) jelled as a team with Miguel Cairo playing stellar defense at first, hitting sac flies, laying down sac bunts, stealing bases, etc., etc.  You know - baseball.  So what does Torre and the Cash-man do?  They bring up the feeble hitting (in majors...once whiffed 5 consecutive times in one game, the Platinum Sombrero) Andy Phillips and then start him over the contact-hitting Cairo.  Hey Joe, if it ain't broke, don't fix it.  The man has got to go, hopefully by the All-Star break.  Let Donnie Baseball take the reigns for the rest of the season.

(2) Speaking of the Yankees and also the YES network, how does the recently departed Clete (short for Cletus) Boyer not get a Yankee-ography?  The man played one of the greatest hot corners in MLB history.  In the day, he was known, aptly, as The Magnet and was overshadowed by Brooks Robinson (The Vaccuum Cleaner) mainly because of the Oriole's superior bat.  But lest we forget that Boyer played half his games in the unfriendly (to righties) Yankee Stadium with the real Death Valley of 402' to straight away left, 457' to leftcenter, 461' to center and 407' to right center.  Like Elston Howard, Joe D., and The Mick batting from the right side (among others), Clete hit countless 420 foot outs, balls that would have easily cleared Wrigley Field's left field bleachers and crashed into the street below.  Something for the Sammy Sosa and Ernie Banks fans to think about.  If you doubt Boyer's superb defensive ability, go get yourself a copy of the 1961 World Series film and see for yourself the incredible diving plays he made and then throwing runners out from his knees.  There was none  finer at coming in on the bunt, scooping the ball up into the bare hand and throwing across his body on the run to nab the batter by a half a step.  Boyer was so skilled defensively, that he was often used at shortstop when Tony Kubek was injured.  The man was instrumental in the Yankees' pennants of 1960 thru 1964.  Gil McDougald and Hank Bauer are others who don't get their due and deserve Yankee-ographies.  Their consistent play and World Series' clutch performances are legendary among those of us old enough to remember.  Certainly, the producers of YES could do a real tribute to Clete instead of the stupid show with the diehard weirdo Yankee fans participating in the ridiculous antics of the season long road trip.  Certainly.

(3) Sosa on # 600.  A joke, a farce, and another black mark on MLB.  Bud Selig should be instantly retired to that great used car salesmen's lot in the sky.  An utter mockery to the likes of Hank Aaron, Babe Ruth, Willie Mays, Frank Robinson, Ted Williams, Mickey Mantle, Jimmy Foxx, etc. But not, of course, Barry Bonds, his brother in sin.  Someone ought to check Bud's head for cork.

(4)  It is time for Tim McCarver to pack up his millions, his pathetic attempts at being witty, his whiny voice, and his hatred of the American League and especially the Yankees, and ,as Thurman Munson would tell complaining teammates, "RETIRE!"  Maybe Joe Buck too.

(5) John Miller on this past Sunday Night's Yankees-Mets game referred to Derek Jeter's slick fielding of a slow roller to short as "Reyes-like!"  Who comes in on a slow groundball better than Jeter?!  Hey John, listen up:  that would be like saying an A-Rod home run was David Wright-like.  ####.

(6) If Yanks come back to make it to the post season, based upon YTD, Jorge Posada has to be their MVP.  Don't challenge me on this.  Just look to history and consider MVP's Berra, Campanella, Elston Howard, Bench, etc. and the role of this position. 

(7) George Steinbrenner and the Yankee organization should publicly apologize to every baseball fan for the scheduled razing of Yankee Stadium, the Grand Cathedral of Baseball.  If he was the King of England, would he raze the old and then build The New Westminster Abbey?  The Stadium is hallowed ground. Steinbrenner destroyed its beauty by his 1973 rennovation which eliminated the Big Ballpark's signature decorative facade/frieze and in succeeding years moved the fences in 3 times, at least.  Yeah, yeah, I've heard all the great things about The Boss and how he restored the winning tradition to the CBS owned failing venture.  And it is no great secret that he has an entreprenurial gift and developed the Yankees into the most profitable professional sports franchise.  I get it.  But does the guy have to destroy the one common link of generation to generation of pinstripe fan - The Stadium?  This would not happen in Boston with Fenway or in Chicago with Wrigley.  They understand what they are selling.  George does not.  Yankee fans, you have a season and a half to say goodbye to an old friend you will never see again.  And just think of this:  The Boston Celtics have won absolutely nothing since moving from Boston Garden.  Nothing.

(8)  Tomorrow afternoon's theme song is the Mighty Mouse tune: Here he comes to save the day, The Rocket-Man is on his way...prediction:  Clemens gets Rocked in Colorado.  With a pro rata 28 mil in the Rocket's pocket, the price of a beer and a dog at The Stadium must be hitting double figures by now. 

That's it for tonight.  As you can tell, I'm not very good with CHANGE unless, of course, change is logical and for the common good and not the elitist few.  But I will not change my mind on one thing Yankee fans - that for the good of the team, the Godfather of the Bronx by way of Brooklyn, your Slow Joe Torre...must definitely go.  (see old post of mine entitled, "Torre can't win the close ones.")

p.s.  Q:  Does anyone know what two different numbers Clete Boyer wore?

Johnny Damon, CF – A good season past.  Dispelled Samson theory – hair/beard loss had no effect on Bronx performance.  Prediction: short porch in right will up his dinger total to around 30 in ’07.  Also, a little too happy during Detroit catastrophe.  Says all the right things. 

 Derek Jeter, SS – Unquestionably his greatest all-around season.  What didn’t he do?  And out of the number 2 hole!  The Yankee Captain was dissed by many of the New York and Steinbrenner hating baseball writers when they awarded the MVP to Justin Morneau.  (see my post, “Just In…Jeter Out”)  But Baseball Digest (published in Evanston, Illinois) got it right when they named ‘Jeets’ as their Major League Player of the Year.  Jeter is a clinic on how to play short (make the jump throw from deep in the hole, come in on a slow roller, go back for an over the shoulder catch on a short fly, etc.), run the bases (intelligently and gazelle-like), bunt, and hit to the right side.  With bursts of power and clutch performances, enjoy watching this future Hall of Famer now because he is very special and the spectacle won’t last forever.  

Bobby Abreu, RF – Nice finish with Yanks for ’06.  Jury is still out regarding season long performance.  A little too happy and complacent during the Tiger blowout.  Maybe Phillies had it right? We shall see… 

Hideki Matsui, LF/DH– Once again demonstrated that he is a true professional with both humble post-injury attitude and timely hitting in last month of competition.  Should have been DH’d by Torre in post season to let the new, young, competitive Melky Cabrera continue to produce as he had in the regular season.  Look for a decrease in games starting in left field in ’07.  

Jorge Posada, C – like Yogi Berra, Elston Howard, and Thurman Munson before him, the true backbone of the team.  Clutch.  When he’s in the lineup, I would never bat him lower than 6th.  Did a better job at the cleanup spot than A-Rod which is not that surprising.  A great all-around catcher: handling pitchers, throwing out runners, etc.  Thank you Tony Pena.  Posada is a true Yankee. 

Robinson Cano,2B – Almost won the batting title which he should do this year as long as he stays healthy.  Jeter will hit .320 and Mauer, who knows the second time around the league?  Let’s hope that Robby can shake off the stigma of Torre batting him in the 9th spot during the playoffs – now wasn’t that a brilliant idea to bolster a young player’s confidence?  

Jason Giambi, 1B/DH – needs to play everyday at first base despite limited range.  Can scoop balls out of the dirt with the best of them.  Hits better when playing in the field.  Too much emphasis on defensive liability.  Is he any less capable than Moose Skowron, Harmon Killebrew, Boog Powell, Pete Rose, etc., etc., etc.?  Power hitting streaks raise questions about continued steroid use. 

Alex Rodriquez, 3B – Lived up to his recent fan nicknames of K-Rod, A-Clod, E-Rod, and A-Fraud and we know there are more.  Add A-Roid if the 100 names are ever divulged.  A-Rod is the person who hasn’t got a clue that the romance is over and keeps making the phone calls and ringing the door bell…but nobody answers.  His Big Apple love affair is history.  Yankee fans only got the worm.  When he finally rides off into the sunset, hopefully back to Texas or Seattle, the Yanks should retire his number to the rag pile so that #13 is never seen again.  The ultimate Choke Artist…and for 25 mil per annum!

.

Melky Cabrera, LF, etc. – outstanding rookie performance including going deep into the pitch count, slashing the outside pitch the other way, covering Death Valley as well as anyone since Ricky Henderson, maybe better, can steal a base, and is a serious threat to throw out a runner taking the extra base.  A powerful arm.  Can play all 3 outfield positions.  Yanks out of their mind if they use this guy as trade bait for pitching woes. 

Gary Sheffield, Gone  - but not (or never to be) forgotten.  We will miss the savage swing and cannon shots to left, foul balls included (did he once take someone’s head off?) but the Bombers will not miss the anger and the Reggie-like attitude in the clubhouse.  Reunited with Leland and Dombrowski, he might very well avenge his pinstripe exit by late season damage against lackluster Yank pitching. 

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL BASEBALL BLOGGERS, PAST & PRESENT

It has been said that there are no coincidences.  If this be true, then Melky Cabrera's recent slump may correlate to the impending return of Hideki Matsui: daily DH-ing, looming on the sidelines, waiting in anticipation for the day that Manager Torre returns him to his former home in left field.  That day is now here.

We have nothing against Matsui, not even the sudden A-Rod type slump he experienced in last year's ALDS.  In Godzilla's case, the sub-par batting was a one time mysterious anomaly.   A-Rod, well, that's another sadly mis-spent Yankee payroll story.  I guess last year's choke-job  wasn't his fault just like his declaration that it's not his fault he's "so intelligent and so good looking."  BARF!  

Matsui, though, is a magnificent, professional  hittter with, perhaps, the best  bat control of any Yankee, Robinson Cano included.  He is a fierce competitor.  Case in point:  the serious fracture to his left  wrist in the diving catch attempt of last May.  He hustles to all balls, runs out every grounder, and with his quick release of an average arm, makes plays at second base and home plate closer than they ought to be.  To date, he has been a clutch performer.

In Hideki's absence and in a situation compounded by the freak wrist fracture to Gary Sheffield, emerged in an emergency one Mighty Melky (Cabrera) to save the day.  The youngster  was called up to the Big Apple after hitting the stuffing out of the ball (about a .385 clip)  down on the Ohio farm.  A centerfielder playing his first game in right, Melky misplayed a wind-blown fly ball into a damaging extra base hit.  We thought it to be more of the same from the previous season's fielding charade in Fenway when he was up for a mid-summer's cup of coffee.  But this year Melky must have switched to decaf because, very quickly, the jitters dissipated  and when the steam cleared, Melky was out there in left, patrolling it like he'd been there for a career.  He has made all the plays - the Sandy Amoros (who?) grabs by the tight corner near the pole, the Ricky Henderson leap and snatches over the high wall, and the Roy White foot races coralling in balls out in the valley.

 And could he throw.  At last count, he was in double figures for outfield assists.  With the recently acquired Bobby Abreu in right and Melky in left, the Yanks now have two of the stronger and most feared arms in the league.  An important point  to consider with Johnny Damon and Bernie Williams competing for lollipop toss of the year in center.

But can he run?  Quicker than Cano and almost as fleet as Jeets.  How about the hitting?   From both sides, occasional power, goes deep in the count, fouls off a lot of balls - makes the pitcher work, strokes the pitch to the opposite field, and so far hits Major League pitching at a .280 clip, about the same this year as 'A-Rod the intelligent and beautiful one.'  Melky, however, has driven in runs when they counted.    

Besides being able to bunt and move a runner over, there is something else Melky Cabrera has brought to Manager Torre's 'home run happy' lineup this summer.  Call it youthful enthusiasm, the positive energy of pure innocence, the joyous passion of playing ball.  Melky Cabrera belongs on any field with Derek Jeter and Johnny Damon and Robby Cano.  They have it too and are all happy to play small-ball when needed.  If you like, call it  chemistry.  But chemistry, not bizarrely gigantic payrolls and/or bizarrely gigantic egos will finally win the whole, damn, big sha-####.

We understand that the still recovering, presently DH-ing Matsui will start in left field tomorrow night. 

But why?         

Let's just say that George likes to get his money's worth.

p.s.  Dear Melky, seen Bubba Crosby lately?    

Re: the potential American League MVP:   So we have now all read the quotes from David Ortiz and Derek Jeter.  Their words read like they play the game.  Jeter, the official Yankee Captain - gracious, controlled, team oriented and focused on the October mission.  Big Papi, the unofficial leader of the deflated Red Sox Nation - swinging from the hips, reactive, individualized, obviously disappointed, and angry.  For unless the recently returned from the DL,  Jason Varitek has something magical in his official Red Sox Captain's arsenal of psyche and performance,  Big Papi will remain Big Unhappy as he watches this post season from his living room.

Even a novice knows that the Sox are done.  Even a novice knows that the physical and psychological impact of the Yanks'  August 5-game Boston Massacre sweep, complete with Jeter-led comebacks,  was too much for even that trio of Yankee killers, Schilling, Ramirez, and Ortiz, to overcome.  Even a novice knows that the Red Sox,  hyped as America's answer to Steinbrenner's Evil Empire, have for this 2006 baseball season been executed.  Unequivocally.  The work of the pinstriped guillotine was quick, precise, and complete.  Big Papi is not happy.

Since last year's controversial selection of the unclutch A-Rod as MVP, DH Ortiz has bit his tongue and endeared the baseball world with an ear to ear grin, a positive message, and an array of game winning bombs of Ruthian legend.  A fact: at crunch time, no one has been more lethal at the plate.  Another fact:  the DH 'position' (?) has, to date, never been awarded Most Valuable Player.  Common sense: the DH plays 'hal####ame.'

Jeter plays a game and a half.  Jeter will beat you a hundred ways - with his glove, on the base paths, with a bunt, a steal, a groundball to the right side, and with his inside-out  swing slicing timely hits (this year at a .340-plus clip), driving in or scoring key go-ahead, tying, and winning runs.   He is on base well over 40 per cent of the time.  But this argument is not about statistics.  The numbers do not tell the whole story.  Jeter's story is lost within the fine print of the box score.  His value cannot be found within the reams of over-analyzed, nerd-generated, baseball geek-created stats.  His worth is, simply, that he is a winner.  You might think of him as the Bill Russell of baseball, just doing whatever it takes. 

Jeter gives the extra effort - takes the extra base, makes the acrobatic jump throw from deep short, creates the shovel pass near home plate, sacrifices his body with the head first dive into the stands.  He sets the tempo, generates the winning energy; he is the catalyst, and often, is the victorious finisher.  He has been in the league over ten years and he still runs out every groundball.  He is the model which managers mold young players from.  Derek Jeter never gives up.  If his team loses that day, it is only because he ran out of innings.  He has always been, the most valuable Yankee. 

So why has Big Papi become so Big Sloppy with his mouth so recently?  Could it be that he has read the handwriting on the monsterous green wall?  Could it be that with the death of this season, he sees "his" award slipping away, like a flimsy hot dog wrapper blowing out into left field with the autumn breeze?  We think it is simply a case of Big Papi bleeding the Red Sox blues. 

David Ortiz has stated that the guy who hits 40 home runs and drives in a hundred should get the MVP.  According to his parameters, Hank Aaron should have had about 20 MVP's.  And what about the man named Manny who bats behind him and protects his at bats?  Without digging up the record books for the complete list of non-sluggers having garnered the honor, has Big Pap-Off His Mouth ever heard of Ichiro Suzuki, Sparky Lyle, Sandy Koufax, or Phil Rizzuto?  Just a few past MVP's that immediately come to mind. 

I have a couple of suggestions for millionaire Ortiz. 

(1) Pick up the hot dog wrapper, crumble it into a ball, and toss it deep into the trash can.  In the end, awards mean nothing.  And who knows, Yankee-hating sportswriters may still give it to you. 

(2) Stop counting homeruns, etc.  They're just numbers and many are just long fly balls over short fences.  By the way David , have you been using that ridiculously ostentatious, diamond studded, gold necklace you wear on the field as an abacus?  You might make better use of it as a rosary so that you can pray for some humility. 

(3) And read up a little on baseball history so you can get a little perspective before you stick that spiked shoe in your mouth again.  We like it better when you smile.

(4) Start a campaign for your own award.  Call it  "The DH Power-Clutch Award."  Maybe General Motors or Ford could do some commercials with you.

(5) Get some gratitude.  If there was no Designated Hitter, you'd be breaking Mr. #### Stuart's records for Red Sox first basemen's fielding futility and possibly even helping some of the old Beantown rooters forget for a moment one, Mr. Bill Buckner. 

(6) Big Papi - just enjoy being the best half-game player around. 

Dear K-Rod, I mean A-Rod,

Sorry about that...Having some problems lately?  Finding it a little difficult to make contact with the ol' baseball of late?  Personal problems?  Head problems?  Health problems? It was a sore throat that kept you out of the lineup, was it?  I dunno buddy, seems like that big, long, looping swing of yours is getting bigger and longer and loopier all the time - been moonlighting in a slow pitch softball league recently?  After all, we realize you're hurtin' for money.  What is it after deductions and taxes, like about 18, 19 mil a year?   Which is really only about eight and a half months of play, I mean work, ain't that right?

Always wanted to ask you this, Alex:  How does it feel when at the end of batting practice and  just before you head down into the dugout, you stop momentarily to pull off your batting gloves and, like a King appeasing his peasants with chump change or loaves of stale bread,  you toss them into the stands for the mindless fanatics to fight over and covet?  (note: he does this!)  Make you feel like a King?  A Hollywood Idol?   A superior being that has "so much talent?"  (Yes, that's right Alex, we heard you say that earlier this year to Kim Jones in a post game interview broadcast on the YES network.)  Or maybe, you just toss your sweaty mitts to the mediocre masses because, out of the goodness of your heart, you want to share a little piece of you with us, even if it is some of your excess bodily fluids.

Oh Alex,  Alex, Alex, Alex...what are we going to do with you?  Send you back to Texas?  Never happen.  Seattle?  No chance.  You don't leave us with many options.  After all, it's obvious that you can't handle the pressure in New York.  That's a no-brainer.  But what loser of a team would be able to afford you?  No, you're in the Big Apple...(no Alex, that's not big Adam's apple as in CHOKE, that's Big Apple as in the Center of the Earth aka New York City)...at least for the remainder of your contract. 

After that, well, that long, slow, loopy swing looks mighty promising for the Greater Bayonne Slow Pitch Tavern and Bar League.  The pay ain't too good but I understand the price is right for the post game brewski's.  It's something to consider.  I understand that McGwire and Sosa and Palmeiro have already signed on for next year.  Can't help but think this way, Alex, making that kind of association.  I mean, when they're not drug testing, you hit like an animal but when they're drug testing, well, you don't hit...let's be honest, you stink!  Seems like you've lost your reaction time and bat speed overnight.  

And if it's not that, well, then Mr. Rodriquez,  you're in bigger trouble than I thought.  Then it's all in the head and I ain't talkin' about where your game's been this year.  If the problem is between the ears, well then, there's absolutely nothing anyone can do for you.  That, buddy, is something you're gonna have to work out for yourself.

Tell ya what A-Rod, here's my advice: fake it 'til ya make it.  Translation: pretend you're having fun on the field and play loose like Jeter - suck it up without excuses and/or complaints like Posada - stay positive no matter what like Bernie, and make the most of your opportunity in pinstripes like young Melky.  Inotherwords, grow up.  And something else, get a little humility, will ya?  Because as you know, payback is a ####.  Do some or all of those things and you should be halfway home.  And if that doesn't work, well, you could always follow the Jason Giambi stealth health and pharmeceutical power plan.

SHEFF BACK IN THE SHOW

DAMON DELIVERS LEADOFF DINGER

YANKS SCORE 2 ON JETER'S BLEEDER

A-ROD TAKES 'WAKE' A-YARD

AFTER 5 WRIGHT TAKES FLIGHT

MANNY SENDS SCOTT TO PROCTOLOGIST

YANKS TO REMEMBER RAMIREZ'S RIDICULE

FARNS-WORTHLESS

MARIANO MASTERS BIG FLOPPI

A-ROD THERAPY WORKING (FOR NOW)

Last night in the Big Apple, the New York Theatre goers missed out on the best one night  performance of the new drama season.  Difficult to categorize, it might best be called a Comedy of Pitching Errors meets the Theatre of the Absurd.  Staged up at the Big Ballpark in the Bronx, the Old Guard of those Damn Yankees miraculously came back 3 times from a 9-zip 2nd inning bad joke to beat the Rangers from Texas, 14-13 on a 2 strike-2 out- bottom of the ninth-Jorge Posada-climatic, walk-off home run.  Poetic justice was served.

Earlier in the game with the Rangers leading by 5, Columbus call-up Melky Cabrera misplayed a double in the tricky left field corner causing the 6 foot 4 inch, broad shouldered  Mark Texiera to be waved home all the way from first.  Yankee Captain and Fearless Leader, Derek Jeter (4 for 5, single, double to the base of the centerfield wall,  3 run HR to the right field porch, beautiful bunt hit toward third, 4 rbi's, stolen base) took the relay and fired home on 2 bounces to Posada who a moment later was hit by a battering ram impersonating a misguided Ranger first baseman. Ouch!

 Actually, it was more than ouch.  It was flashback city.  Shades of Pete Rose running over and through Ray Fosse.  "Georgie" went flying, illogically held onto the ball, and sat stunned in the dust with a "what happened" look and then when he got it somewhat together, possibly thought of better ways to earn his lucrative living. 

Good  for the Yankees that  "Georgie" loves what he does.  Last night, with the trio (Giambi, Sheff, Matsui) of big bats battered and unable to make the call, understudy clean-up hitter Posada earned his keep to the tune of 5 runs batted in, including the game winner into the right field bleachers (take that Texiera!) along with 2 sacrifice flies.  Maybe the casting manager, Mr. Torre should consider a more permanent change to this role?  Didn't Yogi bat fourth?

For those who are in lust with lists and records and stats, Mr. Posada passed the former  late and great Yankee Captain, Thurman Munson on the Pinstripes' lifetime RBI list, 702 to 701.  There's another guy who took his lumps for the team. 

A word for the desperately frustrated Barry Bonds:  take a lesson from Bernie Williams.  Tonight  he tied The Babe on the lifetime Yankee doubles list.  Has "Bern-baby-Bern" been around that long?  No matter.  Along with Jeter and Posada, Bernie showed the young'ins what being a true Yankee is all about. 

And that's something, apparently, that Mariano Rivera is currently unable to demonstrate.  "Mo's" failure once again in the 9th does not surprise us.  Not only does he no longer have the ability to blow away a hitter on demand, but as we have pointed out before, except for the early years, he has rarely been successful coming into the game with the Yanks behind, tied, or with someone else's runners on base.  I know there's a stats-guy out there who could research this for us.  Mariano Rivera's specialty is to jog in from the pen being serenaded for the start of the ninth with the Yanks in the lead.  Sparky Lyle or Gosse Gossage he is not.  And by this time, Torre should know this, don't you think?  We wondered why Farnsworth did not come out for the 9th after easily retiring the Rangers in the 8th on 8 or 9 pitches?  What would have happened if this see-saw match went into serious extras?  Scott Ericson?

A few more words about the Comedy of Pitching Errors.  Last year,  Aaron Small was one of the saviors of the starting rotation, producing in a half season plus, an incredible 10-0 mark.  Whenever he came in as the long- man, he got bombed, like now.  Obviously he has a starting pitcher's mentality.  The record speaks for itself.  Am I blind or do the Yankees have some serious starting pitching problems?  They also have long relief problems.  Except for tonight, who is one of the cooler heads to get out of jam after jam?  Would that be Shawn Chacon?  Now you're catching on.  Flip them and if the Big Unit continues to do the Big Self Destruct, shock him with a dose of forced humility as he tries to become the new 2006 version of the late 1960's  Steve Hamilton (long-man, short relief for lefties, occasional emergency starts).  "Ya gotta get somethin' for yer money, George."  Hey, maybe we can get Steve to come back and teach Randy the Folly Floater?

The physically compromised Johnny Damon and the clutch, utility man Miguel Cairo also came through.  Once we noticed A-Rod breathing deeply and pursing his lips at bat in the ninth, we knew he would not produce in the clutch.  They are his pre-choke facial signs.  And why wasn't he guarding the 3rd base line for the extra base hit in the 9th inning?  Might have made Mariano's post game interview a little less embarrassing.  Got to give him credit though.  He was right out front cheering his teammates who came through.

After Jorge's climatic blast and then the mob scene that greeted him at home plate, the Yankees quickly retreated from the dugout to the clubhouse.  It had been a 4 hour uphill struggle with a couple of brief, temporary tumbles along the way.  As the final curtain fell, Jorge Posada, the evening's shining star, bent down and picked up the tools of ignorance from the dugout floor, and as the last Yankee there, departed for the night. 

During the televised denoument of the post game interviews, both Jeter and Posada made conservative though generous remarks.   Neither one of the Old Guard mentioned anything about themselves having  "so much talent..."   True Yankees, real people.  Did ya hear that Alex?