The Psycho Fan

Hip Hip...

2011-10-06T22:26:00.006-06:00

I come not to bury the 2011 Yankees, but to praise Jorge Posada.

For once in my life, I'm going to try to suppress the negativity that consumes me and take the high road. This was the most painful, frustrating, devastating Yankees defeat since 2004 (the midge game comes a close second). But I'm not going to talk about the insanity of Joe Girardi allowing the inept Russell Martin to bat in the game's highest leverage situation while Jesus Montero rotted on the bench. I'm not going to bemoan the six more years of having a crippled Alex Rodriguez on the roster. I'm not going to question the veracity of Ivan Nova's "injury," or even worry about C.C. Sabathia opting out of his contract and his diet.

The biggest takeaway from tonight's game is that it was Jorge Posada's last game with the New York Yankees.

As much of a sentimentalist as I am, even I can't argue that the Yankees should re-sign Jorge, at least not for anything more than a non-guaranteed contract. At this point in his career, he's a rapidly declining designated hitter who can only play against right-handed pitching.

I'd love to see Jorge back as a part-time DH, emergency catcher and pinch hitter, but given the Yankees' aging roster, that's not going to happen. And Posada is too prideful to accept a pity contract offer. He may very well end up with another American League team for one last hurrah. But his days as a Yankee are over.

And what days they were.

Posada will likely be kept out of the Hall of Fame for the same reasons that the Yankees lost this series to the Detroit Tigers. Joe Girardi, married to old school baseball reasoning, kept playing and batting Russell Martin long after it became apparent that Martin was utterly ineffective. But he was a veteran presence! He could handle a pitching staff! He had experience, for God's sake! Girardi fiddled while the Bronx burned, leaving an inferior player in the lineup because of prejudices that were long ago proven inane.

When Posada first broke into the big leagues in 1997, he was already the Yankees' best catcher. But former catcher Joe Torre insisted on playing Girardi over Posada for years for those very same reasons -- experience, handling a staff, defense, blah blah blah -- costing Posada hundreds of plate appearances and counting statistics. Posada didn't become the Yankees' first-string, full-time catcher until 2000, by which point he posted a .943 OPS (!)

As it is, Posada is a borderline Hall of Famer -- but he'll likely be kept on the outside looking in because the voters are married to the same kind of old-school thinking as Torre and Girardi. Had he played in all those extra games, he'd have a much better chance of breaking the glass ceiling.

As it stands, Posada finishes the Yankees chapter of his career (and maybe his entire career) with an .848 OPS as a catcher, 275 home runs, 47.6 wins above replacement, and a wOBA of .366. His defense was never great, but he held his own (at least until the last couple seasons), and handled pitching staffs well enough to be a major contributor on four World Series winners, six A.L. pennant winners and 15 post-season qualifiers.

Posada began his career backing up Girardi, and long toiled in the shadows of Derek Jeter, Bernie Williams, Alex Rodriguez, Robinson Cano and others. As such, he's probably not appreciated quite enough for his offensive contributions despite being a member of the vaunted "Core Four."

In this 2011 ALDS debacle, he was nothing less than the Yankees' best hitter: taking pitches, working counts, hitting the ball hard and getting on base. In what will almost surely be his final at bat as a Yankee, he almost beat out an infield single. That's a great way to remember him: old, slow, but chugging down that damn line trying to leg out a hit and will his team to victory. He was out, and called as such by the umpire, but he almost fucking made it.

Jorge Posada caught a perfect game with the Yankees. He caught the final outs of World Series victories. He delivered clutch playoff hits. He caught the vast majority of Mariano Rivera's record number of saves. But that was how it ended: Posada waddling toward first as fast as his 40-year-old, beat-up legs would take him, desperately trying to start a rally. As he crossed his first, he flung his arms out to signal "Safe!" even though he knew he was out. He knew flinging his arms out wouldn't compel the ump to allow him to remain on first base, but he just wanted it so much.

Goodbye, Jorgie. You were a flawed but great baseball player. It's been a privilege to watch you for so many years, so many games, so many at bats. You gave a damn as much as anyone on the Yankees over the last decade and a half. You were one of the greatest offensive catchers of all time. That's a luxury we've taken for granted. Now, if Montero or Romine don't develop as catchers, we could be in for years of Martins, Cervellis, Molinas and the like. Then we'll remember how good we had it.

As Mike Vorkunov points out, you kept a picture of Thurman Munson taped to your locker. That tells us all we really need to know about you.

Thanks for Everything, Jorgie

2011-10-06T21:56:00.001-06:00

"To tell the truth, this could be the last time..."

Here's to You, A.J.

2011-10-05T06:48:00.001-06:00

An A.J. Burnett Elimination Game

2011-10-04T07:12:00.004-06:00

And so it was written. And so it has come to pass.

Ever since the rainout on Friday night, this series has unfolded with the inevitability of a Rube Goldberg contraption. The little ball had started rolling, it was about to knock into some lever, a chicken was going to lay an egg, and eventually A.J. Burnett would start an elimination game. You could see it happening but could do nothing to prevent it.

The Yankees' lack of foresight has led us here: first including A.J. Burnett on the post-season roster, and then a series of Joe Girardi moves that harmed the team in two winnable games.

But here we are.

It's dark. It's freezing cold. We've reached our end.

Waking up the morning of an A.J. Burnett elimination game is like being a time traveler bound by the rules of The Butterfly Effect -- so you can travel back into the past, but can't do anything to change events as they occur.

We are forced to go back in time to witness history's greatest tragedies and disasters but we are powerless to stop them. Look: the Hindenburg is going down. Over there: the Enola Gay is approaching Hiroshima. Sirhan Sirhan is wrapping a poster around his revolver. And look: rats carrying plague-infested fleas are crawling onto merchant ships headed toward Europe. Lo: worst of all, a blond figure approaches a pitching mound in Detroit, ball in hand.

This season, A.J. Burnett put up the following stunning numbers:

1.43 WHIP
3.9 BB/9
5.15 ERA
17% HR/Flyball Rate

And now, the season rests on his "electric" right arm, bottle blond head and empty brain.

After last night's game, Burnett said: “I had good games, bad games during the season. You can say the same thing about the postseason, but you can’t count me out. I’m going to bring everything I’ve got, and just let A.J. loose out there."

Wonderful. I shudder to think what letting A.J. loose comprises. Will it lead to a 30-run inning for the Tigers?

Regardless, at least the hope is gone. There's no more stress, because there's no possibility of things turning out other than they will. A.J. Burnett is going to ruin the Yankees' season, again, as he was always meant to do. Free will is dead.

Fire Joseph Elliott Girardi

2011-10-03T09:00:00.003-06:00

Let's leave aside for the moment that Joe Girardi and the Yankees brain trust elected to include the incompetent A.J. Burnett on the post-season roster and that now Burnett is in a position to decide the Yankees season.

(What's that? You can't leave that aside? It's consuming you? It's created a fire of rage within you that can't be extinguished? Huh.)

Steven Goldman at Pinstriped Bible calls Girardi's playoffs manifestation "Coffee Joe" because the Yankees' manager gets hyper in the post-season and overthinks the game. And Coffee Joe was at his caffeinated worst yesterday in guiding the Yankees to a 5-3 defeat to Detroit at home.

First, down 4-0 in the 7th inning with two on and one out, Girardi pinch hit Eric Chavez for Brett Gardner -- a move he never made all season and would never make in any regular season. Chavez, who has shown almost no power this season (80:1 AB/HR ratio), predictably struck out. Girardi's explanation? "Just hoping he might pop one." Uh huh.

Then, in the 9th inning, down 4-1, Girardi elected to send his single worst non-Burnett pitcher to the mound. Again predictably, Luis Ayala yielded a run and the Yankees batted in the 9th down 5-1. When they inevitably rallied, that extra run really didn't help. Neither did Andruw Jones batting against a right-hander instead of Gardner.

Why, why, why pitch Ayala? It's indefensible. David Robertson and Rafael Soriano hadn't pitched since Tuesday? Was a 4-1 deficit so insurmountable (with one of the game's best offenses) that Girardi felt the need to throw up the white flag? When three losses will end your season, maybe you shouldn't give one away so easily.

Can't wait to see what Coffee Joe does tonight.

Girardi Plans, God Laughs

2011-10-01T09:23:00.003-06:00

The Yankees showed incredible short-sightedness when they included Master of Disaster A.J. Burnett on their post-season roster, and now that mistake could very well end their season.

There was no legitimate reason to carry Burnett on the roster save to spare the psychotic hurler's very expensive feelings. If Burnett had gotten into a game on the Division Series' planned schedule, that would have meant the Yankees were getting blown out -- in which chase, who cares who pitched?

But, as 24 different games this year have shown, rain was likely to impact this cold-weather series. And the Yankees were caught with their pants around their ankles when Mother Nature came a-knockin'. If a game were rained out (which happened), or if a starter got injured (also possible), the team knew they'd need a fourth starter. Yet they didn't carry Bartolo Colon, who was significantly better than Burnett all season.

You'll hear a lot of justification about how Burnett was good down the stretch, but if you look at Fielding Independent Pitching, he was no better than the rest of the season. He basically pitched one good start against Boston in a meaningless game the last week of the season. The rest of the 162-game schedule, the guy was a walking, blond gopher-ball machine. And now he might decide the fate of the season.

There is no excuse for this kind of poor planning from Joe Girardi and Brian Cashman.

Maybe Not So Much?

2011-09-29T08:03:00.001-06:00

* Also -- "Newbury Street's Frozen Yogurt Wars"? Ha ha ha ha ha. Good city. Good newspaper.

** Also -- congratulations to the 2011 A.L. Eastern Division Champion New York Yankees. I've said it before, and I hope to say it again, but this never gets old.

Oh, Joe.

2011-09-26T07:06:00.003-06:00

Joe Girardi, haven't you ever seen a horror movie? When you have the terrible, mutilated creature on the ground, you fucking step on its throat. Then you chop its head off. Then you throw the head into a vat of hydrochloric acid. Then you pour the vat of acid into the East River. That's what you do.

Look, I know that technically the Yankees had nothing to play for last night. They've clinched the division, they've clinched home field, there's nothing more to clinch. Girardi didn't want anyone to get hurt. I get it.

But he and the Yankees had a chance to absolutely bury the Red Sox and they didn't do it. Something tells me that decision is going to come back to haunt them. Leave aside the rivalry and the recent history between the teams. Forget about it. What matters is this: the Red Sox are probably still the best team in the American League. Do you want the Yankees to face them in the ALCS?

Yes, they're in an awful slide. But they started out the season 2-10 and then caught fire. In a short series, Jon Lester and Josh Beckett are better than any duo the Yankees can come up with. Boston's lineup is at least the Yankees' equal, and their closer has been unimpeachable. Despite everything, I still think that if they get in the playoffs, they're the most likely A.L. World Series representative.

And not only did Girardi's unwillingness to go for the kill give Boston a one-game lead, it gave them momentum and a hook to hang their "team of destiny" underdog bullshit story on.

Austin Romine with the game on the line? With ARod and Jeter on the bench? Scott Proctor to lose it, again? (Please, won't someone put poor star-crossed Scott out of his misery?) The Yankees are 4-11 in extra-innings games this year. Normally, I'd write that off as a small-sample-sized fluke -- but not having seen Girardi's decision-making process. He continually allows his best pitcher to sit in the bullpen, saving him for a lead that won't ever come. He uses pitchers and hitters who aren't the best he has available. In extra-inning games, Girardi becomes a liability to the team.

Now he's given Boston life. Let's hope he doesn't live to regret it.

The Return: A Short Story

2011-09-02T11:56:00.003-06:00

September 1, 2011, Boston, MA

The car sped by the ballpark in a flash, barely pausing to open the rear passenger side door and toss the package out on the street.

The package landed with a bone-crushing thud on the pavement, a large mass covered in old quilts and tied with twine. The package began to shift and move on the ground.

The quilts were thrown aside and a cloaked, hooded figure emerged. The hunched, wretched creature shuffled toward the clubhouse door. Not recognizably human, it moved forward only with intense effort.

It entered the clubhouse unnoticed and paused in the middle of the room, its face and head completely swaddled. After several minutes, the trainer, Gene Monahan came upon the figure and asked what its business was. The creature grunted, almost inaudibly. Assuming it was a sick, homeless man who had wandered in off the street, Monahan asked assistant trainer Steve Donohue to fetch some warm soup. Monahan gently began to peel away layers of rags until finally the creature straightened and revealed its craggy face from under a mound of unwashed hair.

"My God!" gasped Monahan. A crowd quickly gathered around.

"Are you..." said someone.

"Is that..." said someone.

"Scott? Scott Proctor? Is that you?" said Monahan.

The creature cleared its throat and spoke. "I...I was called that once, yes. Scott. That is my name. Scott."

"I can't believe it's really you!" said Donahue. "We thought you were lost forever! Where have you been?"

"I...I can't remember all of it," said Proctor. "There was cold...I remember cold. And darkness. And unfathomable horrors and evil. But mostly, I remember this."

Proctor rolled up his right sleeve to reveal a monstrosity of a limb, something that could only be called an "arm" in the most clinical definition of that term. It was withered, and only a third the size of his good arm. It had freakish, Frankenstein-like bolts coming out of the elbow, and raised red scars running the length of the whole thing. Random lumps grew and receded like bubbles, and worst of all, the entire arm seemed to hang from the shoulder by one vulnerable, shredded tendon.

"Oh, Scott," Monahan said. "You really think you can still pitch with that?

"Yes, Geno," said Proctor. "I've been rehabbing for five years, and my velocity is up to 73 mph on the fastball. I really think I can help this team. It's been a long and terrible road, but I'm finally back where I belong."

Proctor's eyes flooded with tears, and his teammates rushed to embrace him in a gentle, loving group hug. Just then, the clubhouse door opened again.

Major League Baseball's Executive Vice President of Operations Joe Torre strolled in, whistling a jaunty tune from old Italy.

"Hey everyone, how ya doin'?" he said. "Bud wanted me here for the big series with the Red Sox to keep an eye on the umpires and all that, but I wanted to say hello. Jeet, how ya doin'? Mo, lookin' good."

"Hey Mr. Torre," Derek Jeter said. "Look who's here! Look who's back!"

He turned to put his arm around Proctor, but the creature was gone. He vanished without a sound, and without anyone seeing him leave. The creature faded back into darkness.

That's Cervelli!

2011-08-31T11:28:00.004-06:00

After his heroics and agitations against the Red Sox last night, Francisco Cervilli managed an even more impressive feat in post-game interviews: he broke the vaunted and long-held Backup Catcher Third Person barrier.

"That's Cervelli," he said, describing his emotive behavior on the field. Indeed.

Coming this fall to ABC! Wednesdays at 8:30, after Cougartown, catch American's hottest new sitcom, "That's Cervelli!"

Watch the hilarity that ensues when Francisco Cervelli finds himself in some pretty wacky situations:

Francisco Cervelli's wife wants him to fix the toilet -- but he just wants to watch football!
Francisco Cervelli has two dates to the prom -- and they're twin sisters Tia and Tamara!
Francisco Cervelli has to babysit -- for a mischievous Jack Russell terrier!
Francisco Cervelli gets a new job -- posing nude at the local art school!
Francisco Cervelli claps when he hits a home run -- and gets drilled in the back by John Lackey!

The Most Hated Yankee Index

2011-08-28T10:44:00.003-06:00

Listen. Sometimes you just need to take 16 months off from blogging about the Yankees, OK? Sometimes shit happens. Sometimes you start writing other blogs, and occasionally vent about the Yankees over there.

And sometimes a player drives you so batshit insane with rage that you have to return to your home to write about him there.

Sometimes A.J. Burnett happens.

Most of us knew that the Burnett signing was a potentially disastrous idea in that fateful winter of 2008. We lived with the ups and downs of Burnett in 2009, and we lived with him single-handedly losing a crucial World Series game, because the team's success distracted us from what an ill-conceived signing Burnett actually was.

The other shoe dropped in 2010, and this year, that shoe has kicked us in the face so many teams we look like that lady who got her face eaten by a chimp. Pre-surgery.

Burnett is an awful pitcher -- one of the worst full-time starters in baseball -- and he's paid like one of the best. That part's not his fault; we all take as much money as we can get. Neither is it Burnett's fault that both Joe Girardi and Brian Cashman have shown a maddening predilection to defend him even when he's indefensible. Yankees brass insults the intelligence of every fan who pays to see the team when they claim that Burnett was yelling about a pitch call when Girardi pulled him from the Twins game, or that he's "pitching like a quality starter."

What is Burnett's fault, though, is his awful performance and his dense reaction to said performance. For someone with such "electric stuff," he sure seems unwilling to tinker with his mechanics to try to improve his results.

After each game in which he doesn't give his team a chance to win, he tells the media that he's "out there battling," and that he'll get better next time. A.J. Burnett is full of shit.

As such, he's rapidly ascending my personal list of the most loathsome Yankee of all time. Or at least of my lifetime. Here's where we're at right now.

1. Kevin Brown

2. Randy Johnson

3. A.J. Burnett

4. Carl Pavano

5. Roger Clemens

6. Ruben Sierra

7. Kyle Farnsworth

8. Luis Polonia

9. Mel Hall

10. Chad Curtis

Wow. In just a short time, Burnett has already skyrocketed past a cheater, a rapist and Carl Pavano. Truly impressive. And Randy Johnson is no doubt feeling nervous and looking over his shoulder as the playoffs approach.

Dallas Braden: Moral Guardian of the Grand Game

2010-04-27T08:41:00.005-06:00

INT. CLUBHOUSE – DAY

A’s pitcher Dallas Braden sits in his locker, surrounded by reporters.

REPORTER

Can you tell us what happened out there, Dallas?

DALLAS

(spits tobacco on ground)

Look, Hoss. That’s my mound out there. Mine. Know what I’m sayin’? And I don’t care if you’re some big star or somethin’, that’s my mound, and you can’t be on there. There’s like a big ol’ No Trespassing sign on there. And ain’t nobody setting foot on my mound while I’m out there.

(dribbles tobacco down chin)

It’s an unwritten baseball rule, y’all.

(stares into camera)

And ain’t nobody breaking no rules while ol’ Dallas is in spittin’ distance.

Roll Opening Credits: Diamond Dallas Braden is THE PROTECTOR. Only on CBS.

CUT TO:

EXT. DODGER STADIUM – DAY

Clayton Kershaw stands on the mound. The scoreboard shows that he has allowed no hits to the Astros through 8 innings, and the Dodgers lead the Astros 2-0. Houston outfielder Michael Bourn stands at the plate to lead off the ninth. Kershaw stares in for the sign, then winds and delivers. Bourn whips his bat out in front of the plate and lays a beautiful surprise bunt down the third base line. He races for first as Dodgers third baseman Casey Blake charges the ball. Bourn gets a great jump out of the box and it looks like he’ll be safe by a mile. Blake then juggles the ball as he tries to pick it up. Bourn is just two steps from first when…

DALLAS

Aw HELLLL NOOOOOOOOO!

Dallas Braden leaps out of the crowd, charges onto the field and tackles Bourn before he can reach first base. He pins Bourn to the ground with his arm on throat. Bourn looks up at him in disbelief as Blake tosses to first for the out.

MICHAEL BOURN

What the fuck? What are you even doing here? You’re on the A’s.

DALLAS

Unwritten rule, homey. You don’t try to bunt to break up a no-hitter. Not on my fuckin’ watch.

MICHAEL BOURN

We’re only down two runs, asshole. I’m just trying to get on base.

DALLAS

(spits tobacco into Bourn’s mouth)

You shut your punk mouth, faggot. Ain’t you got your copy of Baseball’s Unwritten Rules (King James version)? Ain’t no buntin’ in a no-hitter.

Dallas pulls a walkie-talkie out of his back pocket.

DALLAS

Hey partner….Hey David. We got a live one here. We’re gonna have to send him to County lockup to cool his buntin’ heels.

INT. DOME – NIGHT

Carl Crawford leads off first base. The scoreboard shows that Tampa is beating Toronto 6-1 in the bottom of the 7^th inning. The Blue Jays pitcher comes set and goes into his windup. Crawford breaks for second and steals the bag, easily beating the catcher’s throw. He stands on second base, dusting himself off when he feels something strange, then looks down to see a patch of blood seeping through his uniform pant leg. He crumples to the ground in pain, and looks helplessly at the umpires while Alex Gonzalez tags him out.

CUT TO:

CARL CRAWFORD

What…what happened?

Dallas Braden strolls onto the field, holding a Winchester rifle against his leg.

DALLAS

Aw hell no, bitch.

CARL CRAWFORD

Did you…did you just shoot me?

DALLAS

You’re fuckin’ right I shot you, little bitch. I fuckin’ sniped you in your little bitch leg, you bet your sweet Aunt Fanny.

CARL CRAWFORD

(bleeding;sobbing)

Why???

DALLAS

You done broke an unwritten rule of the game. Can’t be no stealin’ of bases when your team’s got a big lead. Ain’t right.

CARL CRAWFORD

It’s only a five-run lead! They could come back!

Dallas shoots Carl Crawford in the other leg.

DALLAS

That there’s what we Protectors call a preventative measure. Or a deterrent. Or some shit.

CUT TO:

EXT. STADIUM – DAY

Washington’s Ian Desmond stands at the plate in the midst of a Nationals-Phillies game. Roy Halladay is set to pitch and looks in for the sign, then goes into his windup. Desmond gets something caught in his contact lens and steps out of the batters box.

IAN DESMOND

Time, ump!

Dallas Braden strolls onto the field, walks up to Ian Desmond, and puts his arm around him.

DALLAS

How ya doin’ rook?

IAN DESMOND

Hey Dallas, what the heck are you doing here? Last time I saw you was in Chatanooga, Double A, right? How you been?

DALLAS

I been fine, rook. Just fine.

IAN DESMOND

That’s great to hear. Man, I sure am glad we’re in different leagues. I hate facing your two-seamer.

DALLAS

Right, right, right. I got a question to pose to you, rook. What in the Sam Hell do you think you’re doing?

IAN DESMOND

Huh?

DALLAS

Steppin’ out of the hitters box like that. What in the Sam Hell was that all about? You got your panties up in a ruffle, boy? Need to get out of there in a hurry or somethin’?

IAN DESMOND

What? No, I just had something in my eye. Where did you even come from? Aren’t the A’s playing in Detroit right now?

DALLAS

(whispering into Ian Desmond’s ear)

Shh, shh, shh. You hush your mouth now, pretty boy. Ain’t you seen that Roy up there had already done gone into his pitching motion? Ain’t you heard the unwritten rule that you can’t be steppin’ out of the hitters box once the pitcher’s done gone into his motion?

IAN DESMOND

Yeah, but I couldn’t see anything…I asked for time…

DALLAS

AW HELLL NOOOOO. I told you to hush up. Now here’s what I’mma do. Since this is your first offense, I’mma give you like a warning. But if you ever, EVER break one of the unwritten rules again, I’mma come into your parents’ house in the middle o’ the night. And I’mma creep up them stairs while they’re snoozing away, all peaceful-like. Then, I’mma stab your Daddy in the gut with my Bowie knife. And while he feels the last traces of life slipping away from him, I’mma make him watch as I get all romantic-like with your Momma. I’mma do it with her all sweet and gentle like while your Daddy bleeds out all over the bed.

Dallas looks directly at the camera again.

DALLAS

‘Cause I’m Diamond Dallas Braden – The Protector!

FADE OUT.

Can I Vote For Him Twice in 2012?

2010-04-26T15:11:00.000-06:00

“What people tend to forget,” President Obama said. “Especially after watching their teams lose, is that being a Yankee is as much about character as it is about performance; as much about who you are as what you do. Being successful in New York doesn’t come easy, and it’s not for everybody. It takes a certain kind of player to thrive in the pressure cooker of Yankee Stadium -– somebody who is poised and professional, and knows what it takes to wear the pinstripes. It takes somebody who appreciates how lucky he is, and who feels a responsibility for those who are less fortunate.”

Opening Day Book Recommendation

2010-04-05T15:03:00.002-06:00

We need something to wash the taste of last night's game out of out mouths, don't we? And something to distract us from the fact that Neil Diamond is now dead to us? (Sidenote to Bostonians: You're not all living inside the movie "Beautiful Girls.")

Well go check out the spiffy new site of Psycho Fan favorite Emma Span. And while you're at it...buy her new book.

The New Public Enemy No. 1

2010-04-05T14:51:00.002-06:00

Get out your darts, kids. Here's one for your bullseye:

Brian Cashman shouldn't have signed Chan Ho Park. But Joe Girardi certainly shouldn't be relying on him late in a two-run game at Fenway Park.

Last night was a Joe Torre special, a bullpen mismanagement worthy of Girardi's predecessor. Park has a WHIP of 1.40 and an EqERA of 4.61 last year...in the National League. His career stats aren't any better. What about that screams "Can succeed in the A.L. East"?

Guys fail. Guys blow games. It happens. But it enrages me when managers don't give their team the best possible chance to win a game -- it's really not that difficult. There was no reason for Girardi to pull David Robertson after two batters (shades of the ALCS).

And just like that...the Era of Good Feeling is over.

Affleck and Damon to Star in Peterson/Kekich Film

2010-02-22T14:33:00.004-06:00

Who the huh?

Fritz: Do you like apples?
Mike: Yeah
Fritz: Well I fucked your wife. How you like them apples?
Mike: Well I fucked yours. How you like them apples?

Mike: Look - you're my best friend, so don't take this the wrong way. In twenty years, if you're still livin' here, with your own wife, I'll fuckin' kill you. That's not a threat; now, that's a fact. I'll fuckin' kill you. Instead, you better be livin' in my house, with my wife.

Mike reads a note from Fritz: "Mike, if the GM calls about that job, just tell him, sorry, I have to go see about a girl. And that girl is your wife."

Yankees Sign Righty Kei Igawa

2010-02-22T14:28:00.003-06:00

What the what?

Glory Days

2009-11-05T14:20:00.003-06:00

27

2009-11-05T10:43:00.003-06:00

I feel kind of tingly all over. I don't understand what's happening to me. Oh wait...is this...no, it couldn't be. Is this....is it....happiness?

My favorite things about last night, in no particular order:

Derek Jeter hugging a besuited Paul O'Neill, and bringing a tiny tear to my eye
Marion Rivera saying he was thinking of retiring, but now he wants to play five more years, then cackling and jumping up and down
The satisfied look on Hideki Matsui's face
Nick Swisher celebrating exactly how you would expect Nick Swisher to celebrate.
The knowledge that there's never been a pitcher in the history of baseball that you would feel as confident bringing in to get the last five outs of the World Series than Rivera
That once again, no one let Bloomberg speak
Seeing all the fringe guys spray champagne and act like maniacs -- the Sergio Mitres, the Ramiro Penas, the training staff...
Beating Pedro, one last time for old time's sake
Not having to listen to Buck and McCarver for another year
Seeing the World Series trophy in the arms of Derek Jeter. Where it belongs.
The immediate reaction from Yankees haters across the land: "Payroll! Waaaaah!"
This fucking feeling, back again

People at work keep congratulating me like I had a baby. What they don't understand is...this is better.

Game 5 Redux

2009-11-03T10:36:00.004-06:00

So that's two consecutive Game Fives wherein A.J. Burnett essentially took the Yankees out of the game in the second inning.

All things considered, the Yankees probably got more than they could have hoped for this year out of Burnett. He was, stunningly, healthy all year, he was wildly inconsistent, and his final numbers were right in line with his career totals.

But the problem with Burnett, and the reason I was opposed to giving him $80 million, is that when he's Bad A.J., he single-handedly destroys your chances to win the game. I'd rather have a pitcher whose overall numbers aren't quite as strong, but who gives his team a chance to compete more often.

The Yankees' lack of a fourth started could be their downfall in this World Series. The injury to Wang and the decline of Joba are coming back to damage this team.

It's a minor miracle that the Yankees are leading this series, given that:

Burnett handed a game to the Phillies
The bullpen outside of Rivera has been terrible
Mark Teixeira is nowhere to be found
Robinson Cano is nowhere to be found
C.C. Sabathia hasn't been dominant
Jose Molina has started two games

The Yankees have been carried by a few great performances (Rivera, ARod, Jeter, Damon) and a few passable ones (Sabathia, Pettitte). They need to play better if they're going to win, and break this nine-year stretch of choking, misery and missed opportunities.

A Word, Peter

2009-11-02T11:48:00.002-06:00

So Peter Gammons, who used to be a great baseball writer, tells us this:

Jimmy Rollins went on "The Jay Leno Show" and predicted the Phillies will win the World Series. He was made to be a villain in a tabloid front page, and fans chanted obscenities at him Wednesday night. First of all, the old locker-room bulletin-board clichés are just baloney. Rollins brings an attitude and an edge and loves the big stage. And, in so doing, he plays the New York fans and media for fools. It's comical.

How, exactly, P.G., has Jimmy Rollins played New York fans and media for fools? So anyone who baits someone else needlessly is playing them for a fool? And can you imagine what Gammons would say if Alex Rodriguez made a brash prediction and was getting booed by Philadelphia fans? I bet he wouldn't say, "Rodriguez brings an attitude and an edge," or "he plays the Philadelphia fans for fools."

Peter Gammons is an anti-New York homer who sold out the minute he started appearing on television. See that? I just played Peter Gammons for a fool.

Game 2

2009-10-30T09:46:00.006-06:00

Joe Girardi: You want answers?

Baseball Prospectus reporter: I think I'm entitled to them.

Joe Girardi: You want answers?

Baseball Prospectus Reporter: I want the truth!

Joe Girardi: You can't handle the truth! Son, we play a game that requires baserunners. And those baserunners have to be advanced. Who's gonna do it? You, Joe Sheehan? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for lost outs and you curse smallball. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that losing an out, while tragic, usually leads to runs. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, leads to runs...You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at the SABR convention, you want me giving up those outs. You need me giving up those outs

We use words like bunt, hit-and-run, productive outs...we use these words as the backbone to a life spent defending something. You use 'em as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very runs I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide them! I'd rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a bat and get in the box. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to!

Baseball Prospectus reporter: Did you order Derek Jeter to bunt?

Joe Girardi: I did the job I've been asked to do.

Baseball Prospectus Reporter: Did you order Derek Jeter to bunt?

Joe Girardi: You're goddamn right I did!

Game 1

2009-10-29T16:06:00.001-06:00

The Phillies are a formidable opponent, and Cliff Lee's a great pitcher...

.....but COME ON!

Game 6

2009-10-26T09:14:00.001-06:00

I guess the Angels didn't care enough about Nick Adenhart to win for him.

Also: WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Game 5

2009-10-23T08:09:00.009-06:00

My emotions following Game 5, explained in animal facial expressions.

10:30 p.m.:

10:35 p.m.:

10:45 p.m.:

11:30 p.m.:

12:00 a.m.:

1:15 a.m.:

2:00 a.m.:

3:30 a.m.:

7:00 a.m.:

(apologies to Emma at Eephus Pitch)

The Dumbest Thing I Have Ever Read

2009-04-14T15:40:00.000-06:00

Are you fucking kidding me?

Don't Mess with Teix-as

2008-12-30T15:26:00.003-06:00

I predict that headline first appears in the Post by April 30.

With the Mark Teixeira signing, the Yankees' off-season immediately upgraded from a C+ to an A-. Adding such a huge offensive and defensive weapon makes up for a lot of mistakes. And there have been mistakes. Signing A.J. Burnett to a long-term deal, not offering arbitration to Bobby Abreu, butchering the Damaso Marte situation -- all are forgiven with one large $180 million check.

Now, the Yankees have addressed crucial needs in the rotation and the lineup. Miguel Cairo and Jorge Posada won't be playing first base anymore. Yes, the team is once again throwing money at problems, but this time around, they seem to be doing it with more focus and cunning. They haven't traded away the jewels of the farm system, and they're not signing the likes of Jaret Wright (for the most part). CC Sabathia and Teixeira seem as safe as any big-ticket free agents at their respective positions have been in some time.

I'm hopeful that Brian Cashman still has one more illusion up his sleeve (tricks are things whores do for money), and can turn Hideki Matsui, Johnny Damon or Xavier Nady into an innings-gobbling, back-of-the-rotation starter. If not, I'm comfortable with what the Yankees will be starting out with down in Ybor City.

Brief Ballpark Review: Busch Stadium

2008-12-15T15:26:00.002-06:00

In honor of the amount of effort put into the new Busch Stadium, a haiku:

The best baseball fans?
No, though clearly the dumbest
The ballpark is "blah"

Missed Opportunity #2

2008-12-15T15:24:00.001-06:00

Another killer Usher album title idea:

"Bride or Groom, Ma'am?"

We've Made a Huge Mistake

2008-12-15T14:31:00.003-06:00

The year was 2004. After a devastating playoff loss to the Red Sox, the Yankees' starting rotation was bankrupt. Roger Clemens and Andy Pettitte were long gone. Javier Vazquez seemed like a New York bust. El Duque was old. Kevin Brown was crumbling. Jon Lieber was headed out of town. Only Mike Mussina could reliably be penciled in to the 2005 rotation.

So the Yankees went shopping. Vazquez became Randy Johnson, and Johnson received a hefty two-year contract extension. Injury-prone one-year wonder Jaret Wright was inked to a three-year deal. Injury-prone one-year wonder Carl Pavano was inked to a four-year deal.

We all know how that plan worked out. Shawn Chacon and Aaron Small saved the Yankees' 2005 season, and Wright, Pavano and even Johnson were flat-out disasters for the lengths of their tenures in pinstripes.

It is happening again.

Brian Cashman clearly has not learned from his mistakes.

I don't have much of a problem with the Sabathia signing. The Yankees absolutely need pitching, with only Chien-Ming Wang and Joba Chamberlain (both coming off injuries) slated to begin 2009 in the starting rotation. Sabathia was expensive, but possibly necessary. It's been proven again and again that hitting is a safer long-term investment than pitching. I would rather the Yankees had signed Mark Teixeira than Sabathia if they could truly only afford one of them.

But the Sabathia move is defensible. You can justify overpaying for the premier pitcher on the market. But A.J. Fucking Burnett for 5 years and $82.5 million???

For a guy who:
-Has started 30 games twice in his career, both in contract years
-Will be 36 when the new contract ends
-Has posted WHIPs over 1.3o twice in the last three years
-Seems like a dick
-Owns a career ERA+ of 111, and whose prime is probably over

And now the Yankees are considering adding Derek Lowe too? I can't wait for the 2010 off-season, when the Yankees claim they can't afford to sign any decent players because they have too much committed to Burnett and Lowe. These are the kind of mistakes that haunt a team for years. The kind of mistakes that have put the Yankees in the situation they're in now.

Add in the fact that they were too cheap to offer Bobby Abreu arbitration, and too dumb to figure out that Damaso Marte didn't need a three-year deal, and this off-season is shaping up to be extremely problematic. The offense was woeful last year, and looks to be even worse in 2009. All the aging veterans will be another year older, and Nick Swisher is expected to replace the production of both Jason Giambi and Abreu.

Ugh.

Thank You

2008-10-20T11:04:00.000-06:00

This totally makes up for that time you guys killed Steve Irwin.

Hank Steinbrenner's Heart Grew Three Sizes That Day

2008-10-03T14:48:00.003-06:00

Every fan down in Bronxville, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without any playoffs at all!
He HADN'T stopped October from coming! IT CAME!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!
And the Psycho Fan, knee-deep in beer number three,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be?"
"It came with out Jeter! It came without Mo!"
"It came without Jorgie or Robbie Cano!"
And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Fan thought of something he hadn't before!
"Maybe a Yank-less October," he thought, "doesn't have to be a bore."
"Maybe October...perhaps...means a little bit more!"

Baseball Commentator Babelfish

2008-10-03T14:46:00.002-06:00

"Always gives you a quality at-bat" = "Sucks at baseball"
"Never complains about his role" = "Sucks at baseball"
"Willing to get his uniform dirty" = "Sucks at baseball"
"Great clubhouse guy" = "Sucks at baseball"
"Just a winning player" = "Sucks at baseball"
"Gamer" = "Sucks at baseball"
"Doesn't care where he hits in the order" = "Sucks at baseball"
"Scrappy" = "White"

Yanks Lock Up Amazing 2001 Lineup

2008-07-31T10:13:00.001-06:00

Damon
Jeter
Abreu
Arod
Giambi
Pudge
Sexson

When this team finds a time machine, it might score 1,000 runs.

Missed Opportunity

2008-06-23T09:01:00.003-06:00

Why has Usher never titled an album "The Rise of the House of Usher"?

Seems like a no-brainer.

"A Really Tough Out"

2008-06-05T11:58:00.001-06:00

Apologies for stealing FJM's schtick, but just now, I witnessed the following exchange on YES as David Eckstein stepped into the batter's box:

Al Leiter: And here comes David Eckstein, a really tough out.
Michael Kay: A REALLY tough out.

David Eckstein 2008 OBP: .344
David Eckstein 2008 SLG: .352

Oh, and P.S. - the Mighty Casey struck out.

All Joba, All the Time

2008-06-02T20:24:00.002-06:00

Just now, with Kyle Farnsworth blowing the Yankees/Twins game, and Edwar Ramirez warming in the bullpen, the ESPN play-by-play guy actually said, "Edwar Ramirez, with that great change-up, but perhaps too young and inexperienced for that 8th-inning role." This after the announcers had argued in favor of Joba Chamberlain keeping that role for the past ten minutes.

Joba Chamberlain - 22 years old, 47.2 major league innings pitched.
Edwar Ramirez - 27 years old, 37 major league innings pitched.

For the record, a list of people I would rather have pitching the 8th inning of a close game than Kyle Farnsworth:

Edwar Ramirez
Chris Britton
Jose Veras
Scott Patterson
J.B. Cox
Darrell Rasner
David Robertson
Jeff Nelson (present-day)
Wade Boggs
Sparky Lyle (present-day)
Joe Niekro (present-day)
R.E.M. bassist Mike Mills
Bo Jackson
Hume Cronyn

And a list of people who I would not prefer to see instead of Kyle Farnsworth in the 8th inning of a close game:

Latroy Hawkins
Joba Chamberlain

An IQ Test for Yankees Fans and Other Sporting Types

2008-05-23T11:52:00.001-06:00

1. Should Joba Chamberlain move into the starting rotation?

A. Yes
B. Heck no, he's great in the 8th inning. And who else would fill that role??

If you want to know whether someone has the ability to use logic and reason, and has any remote understanding of the game of baseball, ask them the above question. If they answer A, be relieved. You are talking to a sentient human being. If they answer B, you might want to run away. They might be a wild animal, and/or they probably voted twice for George W. Bush.

Peter Abraham has a simple explanation for why A is the correct answer. Starting pitchers are more important than relief pitchers. The vast majority of relief pitchers are in that role because they failed at starting pitching at some level, or because management believed they would fail at starting pitching. Joba Chamberlain is exceedingly likely to succeed at starting pitching. Therefore...

Come on, monkeys, keep up.

Babe Ruth is not Walking Through That Door

2008-05-19T10:01:00.001-06:00

It's never a good sign when your captain is echoing Celtics-era Rick Pitino in his post-game quotes:

"That doesn't matter that guys are out," captain Derek Jeter said. "You can bring back Gehrig, Ruth and DiMaggio, but we haven't been playing well. That's the bottom line."

Tim Kurkjian and Goose Gossage Love the Film "Pleasantville"

2008-05-14T20:07:00.002-06:00

Tim Kurkjian has a preposterous article up on espn.com bemoaning the rampant celebrating in the game today. This is the first paragraph for reals:

In the only winner-take-all regular-season game in the history of Yankee Stadium, the Yankees beat the Red Sox on the final day of the 1949 season to win the pennant and advance to the World Series. "We didn't celebrate on the field, we didn't even shake hands," said former Yankees second baseman Jerry Coleman. "We just ran into the clubhouse."

Such world class douchebags as Frank Robinson, Don Sutton, and our own Aaron Boone proceed to complain about the nightmare of fist pumps, high fives and smiling that our beloved game has become.

Thank God.

Thank God we have heroic men like Tim Kurkjian, David Dellucci and Aaron Boone to protect us from the horrors of modern baseball. These kids today, if we didn't keep a close on them, might actually smile when they get a hit or congratulate a teammate on a 1-2-3 inning. WE CANNOT LET THAT HAPPEN. If we allow fist pumps, or high fiving a fan after your fist major league home run, the game will quickly devolve into a post-apocalyptic, NBA-like world complete with hilarity, hijinks and on-field shootings. Joba Chamberlain will fire a pistol in the air in celebration of each strikeout like an old-timey bandito. Lastings Milledge will pretend to take his pants off and moon an opposing crowd. The end is nigh.

We need more old-fashioned values in baseball. We need to return to an era of calling your shots, hitting catchers in the head with bats, and prolonged campaigns to keep black players out of the major leagues. Seriously...have you seen how many darkies are playing baseball these days?

I'm Still Right

2008-05-13T20:43:00.002-06:00

The Rays scraping together a run against Rivera in does nothing to disprove the validity of my argument below.

Also, can someone please get Johnny Gomes a message: David Dellucci wants him to know that this is May baseball.

A Historic Night

2008-05-13T20:07:00.002-06:00

It has become apparent this season that Joe Girardi learned well at the foot of the master of stupidity. For years (and years and years and...), Joe Torre cost the Yankees victories by refusing to use his best pitchers in the highest-leverage situations. Most egregiously, he steadfastly avoided bringing Mariano Rivera into tie games on the road in late innings. Why? Dunno. You'd have to ask Torre. Maybe the Big Book of Old-Timey Baseball Laws told him to.

Tonight, and not for the first time, Joe Girardi left Mariano Rivera sitting on his ass with the game on the line in a 1-1 game in the bottom of the ninth inning. He brought The Arsonist Kyle Farnsworth into the game instead. So Rivera would be saved to protect a lead that might very well never have occurred. That Farnsworth got out of the inning is entirely beside the point. Girardi needed to ask himself, "Who has the best chance to get this game to extra innings to give us a chance to win?" The answer is not Kyle Farnsworth.

I will not rest until the Yankees have a manager who, at the very least, doesn't blatantly hand the opposition games through sheer stupidity. A skipper with some basic understanding of the grander intricacies of the game would be nice, but I'm not chasing rainbows here. I'm just demanding a bare minimum of reasoning ability.

And so tonight, ladies and gentlemen, I proudly present to you the debut of.....

The "Fire Joe Girardi" tag!

That didn't take long.

Defending Joba's God-Given Right to Fist-Pump

2008-05-13T08:17:00.001-06:00

Dear Goose Gossage,

I'm sorry I supported your election to the Hall of Fame for so many years. I didn't realize you were a huge douchebag.

Love,

PF

When I Perish, David Dellucci Will Judge My Sins

2008-05-08T17:42:00.002-06:00

All-time baseball great David Dellucci has appointed himself moral arbiter and guardian of our cherished national pastime.

The Dellooch doesn't like it when mean old Joba Chamberlain pumps his fist. According to St. Peter's eventual replacement:

"It is what it is. If he wants to yell and scream after a strikeout, I guess that's what gets him going. It's May baseball. The home run was in a much bigger situation. I didn't dance and scream."

First of all, Dellucci's home run came in the 8th inning of a two-run game. Joba's strikeout came in the 8th inning of a three-run game. Wow! Huge difference.
Second, why does Papelbon never get crap for this?

Third, fuck you, Dellucci. The guy pumped his fist. You precious unwritten rules of the game are for old-timey players from the Depression. Settle down.

Fourth, do you happen to remember your teammate C.C. Sabathia's reaction last week when he struck a couple Yankees out in the sixth inning? He screamed obscenities while looking right at them. And pumped his fist. I don't remember any holier-than-thou quotes from you in the press that day.

Demote Joba

2008-05-07T10:17:00.002-06:00

Boooooooo! Boooooooooooooooooo!

You suck, Joba! Hey Joba! Joba! You suck!!

Over-rated (clap clap, clap clap clap)

An Open Letter to Every Yankees Fan Who Booed Phil Hughes and Ian Kennedy

2008-05-02T10:37:00.003-06:00

Dear Garbage,

Fuck you. You are a worthless piece of human detritus who gives Yankees fans a bad name. Booing kids in their early 20s because they don't meet your expectations? Classy. It's not like these guys are making $30 million a year, and you can claim you're booing them because they're not earning their lofty contracts (although that's a poor excuse for booing as well). You read in the newspapers, and on blogs like this one, that these kids are good. And they haven't been good.

So what do you think booing them will accomplish? Toughen them up, make them True Yankees? Bullshit. You're making hard times harder, and if you morons have any effect at all, it will be a negative one. You want to boo Ed Whitson? ARod? Danny Tartabull? Fine. Have at it. Boo guys who don't seem to be giving an honest effort? Hell yes. Phil Hughes and Ian Kennedy? FUCK YOU IN THE FACE.

Love,

PF

And PS, Savior, sorry about that whole not-believing-you-were-really-hurt-thing. Hard to blame me though, as evasive as Joe Girardi has been about injuries.

I Believe in Coyotes and Time as an Abstract

2008-05-01T10:06:00.001-06:00

Raise your hand if you really think Phil Hughes has a strained oblique muscle.

When You're Right, You're Right

2008-04-30T06:54:00.001-06:00

Johan Santana - 40.1 IP, 3.12 ERA, 0.92 WHIP, 39/8 K/BB.
Phil Hughes - 22 IP, 9.00 ERA, 2.14 WHIP, 13/13 K/BB.

Hip, Hip...

2008-04-28T10:36:00.001-06:00

As I've explained before, the Yankees couldn't hope to re-capture last year's offensive numbers because, for one, they couldn't expect Jorge Posada to repeat his career year. But I don't think .280/20/90 seemed unreasonable.

This team's in big trouble now. They need their young pitching to stop pitching like young pitching, and start making up for some of the offense's lack of productivity.

I'm Sorry, Joba

2008-04-25T12:18:00.003-06:00

Last night was my first time seeing Phil Hughes and Joba Chamberlain pitch live. (Yes, I live in Chicago. No, I won't apologize for it. At least this city's not closing Wrigley Field.) I lost my Joba-ginity, you might say.

What happens now is obvious - every time I'm at a game and Joba comes in, I have to leave the ballpark.

Quadrophenia

2008-04-24T14:53:00.002-06:00

Given the recent spate of quad injuries, dead arms and other maladies, shouldn't the Yankees scapegoat and fire their fitness coach like they did last year during Hamstringgate '07?

The Eternal Organ Fill

2008-04-18T08:34:00.002-06:00

You did not go gentle into that good night, Phantom Dan.

Mike Mussina - Still Dunzo

2008-04-18T08:30:00.001-06:00

Mike Mussina should never be allowed to pitch to a team with a good offense again. He simply doesn't throw hard enough anymore to get by against decent hitters. Last night's performance, when the Yankees dearly needed to save their bullpen, was disgraceful.

When Joba Chamberlain returns to the team, he should head straight to Mussina's spot in the rotation.

Lay Off Latroy Hawkins

2008-04-16T08:06:00.003-06:00

I love Paul O'Neill as much any anybody (just look in the right-hand column of this page), but Yankees' fans treatment of Latroy Hawkins has been borderline retarded. He's a mediocre reliever. That's not his fault. Blame the Yankees for signing him. Booing the ever-loving shit out of him will not help him pitch better.

Peter Abraham has it exactly right.

Feel free to boo Kyle Farnsworth all you want, though.

Devil Rays Forever

2008-04-16T07:54:00.004-06:00

Two interesting things happened in the stands of the Tropicana Dome behind home plate during this two-game series, both captured by the centerfield cameras.

1) While Ian Kennedy was pitching, some guy in a big, inflatable mascot suit (I can't find a picture) stood directly in Kennedy's line of vision and jumped up and down in a blatant attempt to distract him. In the MAJOR leagues. For reals, you guys. Also, this mascot-type thing had like a two-foot long tongue hanging out of its mouth, and looked like it was poised to make some lady mascot very happy.

2) During last night's game, Brian Knobs of The Nasty Boys sat in the front row behind home plate.

Sign of the Apocalypse

2008-04-14T08:33:00.000-06:00

That this fucking insane story about the T-shirt buried in Yankee Stadium is being discussed on talk radio, on ESPN.com’s front page and pretty much everywhere. I expect nothing from the New York Post, but the rest of you should be ashamed.

A Plea to Yankees' Fans

2008-04-11T13:20:00.002-06:00

As we prepare for our first Yankees/Red Sox apocalypse of the year, I have a request for Yankees fans. Please, please, please do not chant "18-1" at Red Sox fans. Ever.

If you do, you'll be no better than the Bostonians who chant "Yankees suck" at Patriots' Super Bowl parades.

Glad to be Done with Kansas City

2008-04-11T13:19:00.000-06:00

Warning Signs

2008-04-10T09:46:00.002-06:00

It's too early to panic, etc. etc. disclaimer disclaimer, BUT

-Pretty much everyone on the offense looks another year older. Last year, the Yankees made the playoffs because ARod and Jorge Posada had career years. The team made no upgrades to the offense in the off-season. ARod and Posada can't be expected to re-create their 2007 numbers, and no one else in the offense (except for Cano) can be expected to significantly improve, because THEY ARE ALL ANCIENT. And declining.

-Phil Hughes' fastball still has as much velocity as Bugs Bunny's changeup. Um...Phil? Please don't make us all look like fools for railing against the Johan trade.

Game Numero Uno

2008-04-02T15:25:00.000-06:00

Well, that went well.

A virtuoso performance from Melky Cabrera, who looks more like a viable big league center fielder every day, led the Yankees to a 3-2 win over the Jan Brady of the A.L. East, the Toronto Blue Jays.

Chien-Ming Wang didn’t look great, but Melky, Giambi and ARod contributed defensively to get him through seven largely effective innings. Solid work from Joba and Mariano, and that was all she wrote.

The offense looked sluggish, but that can be expected against Roy Halladay. My only concern the entire game was Joe Girardi not pinch-hitting for Jason Giambi against Scott Downs, and then using a defensive replacement at first base. It’s a minor quibble, though. The Yankees looked good, and the Stadium begins its farewell lap.

Oh, one other thing….is YES going to continue with those stupid camera angles all season? I don’t need to miss pitches because I’m getting the view of the flag through the façade, or some such nonsense.

Guess Who's Back

2008-04-01T13:47:00.002-06:00

The motherflippin’ Psycho Fan, that’s who. After a long off-season of discontent, it’s spring (though not in Chicago) and optimism is in the air (though not in America).

I didn’t write about the Yankees this winter because the day-to-day news surrounding the Yankees was miserably depressing. 2007 ended with a pathetic whimper, much like 2006, 2005 and 2004. The Torre-led Yankees showed no fight and no pride while playing matador to the charging bull of Chief Wahoo. After the ancient Mr. Torre sat on his ass while Joba Chamberlain was being attacked by a Hitchcockian plague, the Yankees laid on their backs and put four paws in the air. And then some other animal metaphors.

The embarrassing Mitchell Report (embarrassing to Bud Selig, George Mitchell and the media, NOT the players named in that fraud of a document) darkened every other baseball story this off-season. Who cares if Jorge Posada signs a new, four-year contract when our entire national pasttime is being disgraced in Congressional hearings?

This past winter has been baseball’s darkest moment of my lifetime, excluding the unforgivable 1994 World Series cancellation. (Seriously…think about that for a minute: The WORLD SERIES WAS CANCELLED. Under Bud Selig’s watch. And now he’s being lauded by some as a good commissioner? Give me a ginormous fucking break.) In addition to the ongoing steroids fiasco, the evil Red Sox won their second title in four years and talk of a dynasty has begun. Hank and Hal Steinbrenner had their bloodless coup. (Does anyone else envision the Hankster beating Brian Cashman to death with a bowling pin in a few years?) The Yankees were able to do nothing to improve their team, succeeding only in not trading away their valuable young pitching.

In short, things sucked. And no one, including me, had anything new or interesting to say about any of it.

But the season starts tonight. And hope is rekindled...blah blah blah. Sorry, my stomach can't take that kind of saccharine garbage. Let's just hope for a win.

Fever Dreams

2008-01-25T11:02:00.001-06:00

When I was confined to my bed the other day with a fever that I would estimate at 115 degrees (very scientific), I tossed about in a half-waking state, experiencing a strange assortment of fever-fueled dreams and delusions. Most of those dreams were not particularly relevant to this Web site. For example:

1) I dreamed Herve Villechaize was my sex butler. Whenever I entertained a lady in the boudoir, I rang a small bell located above the bed, and Mr. Villechaize would rush into the room in his little tuxedo, carrying a silver tray of birth control options, sex toys and refreshments. My sex butler.

2) I dreamed about the Stouffer’s chicken crepes I used to eat as a child. Those selfish fucks at Stouffer’s don’t make them anymore. Fuck your frozen paninis, Stouffer’s, they suck on wheels.

But one dream did have particular pertinence. Actually, it was more of a fugue-state vision of the future than a dream. I believe that my fever showed me the events that are about to unfold, not unlike Jacob Marley. And we should all be very afraid.

Crystal ball:

Early in spring training, the Yankees are going to trade Phil Hughes, Melky Cabrera, and two other middling prospects to the Twins for Johan Santana. The Yankees promptly award Santana a five-year extension through 2013 worth $130 million.

Caught by an enterprising reporter for a rare public comment, Hank Steinbrenner says, “We just couldn’t pass up this opportunity to put the best pitcher in baseball in pinstripes. We had to give up a lot, but we now have a guaranteed chance to compete for a championship every year.”

Meanwhile, Brian Cashman begins quietly asking about potential job openings around the league.

The move appears to pay dividends quickly when Santana shuts down the Blue Jays and leads the Yankees to an 8-2 win in their home opener. Johan receives a standing ovation, and Hank Steinbrenner takes the uncommon step of basking in the spotlight on the back pages, saying, “This is why we went and got him. He’s a big-game pitcher, and we all knew that going in.”

The Yankees jump to a quick start out of the gate, opening with a 22-8 record and a three-game lead over the Red Sox. No one pays much attention when Johnny Damon misses a mid-week game with “a stiff back.”

Two days later, Damon is placed on the 60-day DL with “a twisted, crippled wreck of a spinal cord reminiscent of Bernie Williams in his final days.”

The Yankees try to make do with Hideki Matsui in center and Shelley Duncan in left, but the plan is quickly scrapped following an embarrassing Carl Crawford inside-the-park home run. Austin Jackson is rushed to the big leagues, where he promptly hits .143 over a two-week stretch. In July, with the Yankees lagging behind Boston, he is traded for Ken Griffey Jr., against Cashman’s strenuous objections.

After showing up on Ken Davidoff’s doorstep at 1 a.m., Hank Steinbrenner says, “Ken Griffey Jr. is one of the best players ever to put on a uniform. He immediately joins Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle, Bernie Williams and Deion Sanders in the proud tradition of Yankees centerfielders.”

Meanwhile, Johan Santana skips a turn in the rotation with a “tired arm.” He avoids the DL, and finishes the season at 17-8 with a 3.45 ERA. In Minnesota, Phil Hughes goes 12-10 with a 3.78 ERA.

The Yankees miss the playoffs, as a near-total lack of offensive and defensive production at first base and center field submarines the season.

Brian Cashman quietly announces his departure when his contract expires in October. He is immediately the subject of a bidding war, and becomes the new Phillies GM.

Hank and Hal Steinbrenner don’t bother hiring a new general manager, as Hank says, “Hal and I can handle that end of things. We haven’t won a title here since 2000, so it’s not like we can do any worse, right?”

The Yankees sign Richie Sexson, Jeff Kent and Pedro Martinez to long-term free-agent contracts in the 2008-2009 off-season.

From there, the vision of the future gets a little hazy. Something about a torn rotator cuff for Santana, and a 2010 Cy Young Award for Hughes…

In Defense of Roger Clemens

2008-01-15T15:31:00.000-06:00

Something to consider while Shawne Merriman and Rodney Harrison sit on their couches today, watching our great national disgrace:

Roger Clemens might have injected steroids into Brian McNamee’s penis, and allowed the trainer to make love to him in order to receive the hormones anally. Roger Clemens might have lathered himself with the cream before every start and bathed in the clear after each game. Roger Clemens might have personally spiked the team’s Gatorade cooler with HGH before every game of the 2000 World Series.

We don’t know what Roger Clemens did or did not do today anymore than we did the week before the Mitchell Report came out, or in 1998 while Bud Selig was stuffing his cheeks fat with the cash generated by the McGwire/Sosa home run chase, or anymore than we will in 2023 when the World Series is played between angry man-eating robots and a team full of clones created from Christy Matthewson’s skeleton.

Every piece of evidence against Clemens is circumstantial, and grounded in a maze of indecipherable he-said/he-said nonsense. To judge Clemens based on the Mitchell report is an epic fallacy, a foolish game being played by headline-hungry columnists and a lynch mob of fans who have always hated Clemens anyway.

The Mitchell Report is a flawed, incomprehensive, possibly biased document that holds no authority. The only fair way to treat the information contained therein is to ignore it. Ignore it all. Pretend it never happened.

While the public’s apathy toward the steroids issue is apparent in box office revenue and television ratings, the media continues to build a gilded controversy, largely because drugs are an easy issue about which to screech from a soapbox. The din has grown so loud and intense, that our only choice is to tune it all out. Unless there is hard evidence proving a player has taken steroids (and at this point, I’m willing to accept only positive tests, and perhaps a Game of Shadows-like web of proof), everyone is innocent until proven guilty.

Of course we all know that Mark McGwire probably took steroids. He essentially damned himself on national television. But it shouldn’t keep him out of the Hall of Fame, because there is no proof. A player not stepping forward to defend themselves, either in front of investigators or for Mitchell’s inquisition, is not an admission of guilt.

We don’t know the scope of the problem, or if there even is a problem, anymore than we did before Mitchell released his findings. For God’s sake, we still don’t even know what effects steroids and especially HGH have on baseball performance. It’s time to end this charade, with the understanding that any numbers and records achieved in the last 15 years happened in a certain era, under certain offense-friendly circumstances, like the anti-Dead Ball era.

Roger Clemens’ legacy is not tainted. Let him be. And hell, I don’t even like the guy.

Merry Christmas to You and Yours...

2007-12-21T10:52:00.000-06:00

...from the worst family on Earth.

Jesus.

Fucking.

Christ.

The Mitchell Abomination

2007-12-14T13:44:00.000-06:00

“As a fan of both baseball and due process, let me just say that today is a sad day, a shameful day, and that what we’re about to witness is a travesty.” – Joe Sheehan, Baseball Prospectus

Other than season-ending strikes and lockouts, never before has a major American sport undertaken an affair as self-destructive as the Mitchell investigation. Flawed in concept, butchered in execution, and riddled with hypocrisy, Sen. George Mitchell’s investigation and subsequent report have set baseball public relations back to the Stone Age (1994), and to no discernible end.

Dozens of current and former baseball players, some guilty, some almost assuredly innocent, today find their reputations marred and their livelihoods endangered by circumstantial and specious evidence. Some of the worst steroid offenders are now exonerated in the court of public opinion merely on the basis of not being mentioned in a deeply defective, half-realized report. Maddeningly, this witch-hunt served no purpose other than the institution of baseball intentionally creating a storm of negative headlines for itself.

To be clear, steroids and HGH are blights on the game of baseball. Sacred records have been illegitimately smashed. In a sport so reliant on and enriched by statistics, the numbers have transmogrified to the point of being meaningless. It’s heart-breaking that Barry Bonds passed Babe Ruth and Hank Aaron, and likely fraudulent that Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa passed Roger Maris. But the problem is systemic, and no one can be absolved by releasing a list of a group of players who were unlucky enough to have their trainers or dealers snitch.

The release of the Mitchell Report has placed the focus of this epidemic squarely on the individual players named therein. But Major League Baseball had no significant steroid testing policy in place. Reporters looked the other way as backne-covered man-beasts walked shirtless around locker rooms. Idiot fans basked in the McGwire/Sosa spectacle. Bud Selig and his compadres sat on piles of money like so many Scrooge McDucks. Everyone involved with baseball was complicit with allowing this to happen. It was like “The Wire,” — every institution within and related to the game was interconnected, and the faults of each validated the faults of the others.

The Mitchell investigation was destined to fail from the day of its conception. Bud Selig, panicked at the threat of Congressional intervention (and Congress has nothing to be proud of here, either), foolishly put together an “independent” investigation into steroid use without thinking through the consequences. In a stunning example of cronyism at its finest, Selig selected pal George Mitchell to head the inquisition.

Mitchell, a member of the Democratic leadership in the Senate that allowed Ronald Reagan to run roughshod over the Constitution, later joined the boards of directors of the two most evil corporations in the United States: Disney and the Boston Red Sox.

So began an ineffectual, non-comprehensive twenty-month study into, apparently, which players used steroids and nothing more. Mitchell and his goons, enabled by the commissioner, coerced players to rat each out, promoted hearsay and kept the black cloud of steroids in the headlines continually for two full baseball seasons.

What could Selig possible have hoped to gain, other than making himself appear less culpable? What purpose could Mitchell serve by digging up rumors and dirt from the era before baseball began its new drug-testing policy? Perhaps Selig was looking for a scapegoat; perhaps he thought the problem would be less severe in the end that the Cansecos and Caminitis of the world claimed. Perhaps he thought the report would be the silver bullet he needed to bring down Bonds, the great white whale of his tenure as commissioner.

Yet no matter how imprudent the Mitchell investigation’s design may have been, the results are amazingly even worse.

After 20 months of non-stop investigative work, Mitchell’s results were predicated almost entirely on the testimony of two former clubhouse types with incentives to both cooperate and lie. Beyond the names supplied by Kirk Radomski and Brian McNamee, the report merely regurgitates findings from other newspaper and police investigations.

No wonder Mitchell couldn’t push the Clintons’ health-care initiative through Congress.

So two trainer-types flipped, and the players they were so associated with have the misfortune of being fingered, while countless other drug suppliers didn’t cooperate or weren’t found, and the players who bought drugs from them get off scot-free.

It’s been widely mentioned, but it can’t be ignored that Mitchell’s ties to the Red Sox don’t reflect well either on the high number of Yankees mentioned in the report, or the total lack of current Red Sox players present. Perhaps Mitchell is an above-board, stand-up guy who would never even think to let a conflict of interests like that affect his integrity. But perhaps not. And Bud Selig was insane not to think that conflict might become an issue when selecting the person to run his investigation.

The media has had its panties in a bunch about steroids for several years now, but the public remains largely indifferent. At the least, fans don’t seem to be boycotting the game or spending less money on consuming it because of their opinions about drugs. There certainly hasn’t been any kind of outcry to expose which players injected what when. So Bud Selig has allowed, even endorsed, a saga that sullied the game’s reputation all to examine water under the bridge.

So it’s alleged that Player X took HGH in 2002. So the fuck what? That accusation accomplishes what, exactly, other than making the commissioner look bad for not having a solid policy in place before he did?

Baseball needs to attempt to clean up the game moving forward. Retroactively humiliating a small subset of possible steroids users only makes everyone involved with baseball look bad, for a longer period of time than necessary.

Bud Selig should be ashamed by this self-defeating sham, this mockery of justice. Nothing good has come from the Mitchell Report, and nothing good will come. Baseball shot itself in the knee for no discernible reason.

Is Bill Smith a Ree-Ree?

2007-12-04T08:59:00.000-06:00

If the Twins make this rumored deal with the Red Sox, their GM should be fired immediately. Why the fuck would they choose Lester, Crisp and Lowrie over Hughes, Melky and whoever? Hughes is the best pitching prospect in baseball, while Lester is a decent prospect, maybe a little better. And Melky and Crisp are basically the same player, except Melky is younger, cheaper and at least has the potential to improve.

Don't get me wrong, I want the Yankees to keep Hughes, but if the Red Sox are going to get Johan, the Twins have to at least make it hurt a little bit.

This whole scenario is a little too reminiscent of when the Yankees were trying to acquire Curt Schilling from Arizona, and the D-backs demanded Soriano AND Nick Johnson in return, then turned around and shipped Schilling to Boston for a pile of rotting garbage.

Maybe Hanky Stein's bluster is rubbing Bill Smith the wrong way, giving him motivation to help Boston and hurt the Yankees.

Please Don't Do This

2007-11-30T21:07:00.001-06:00

If the Yankees include Phil Hughes in a trade for Johan Santana, I will be apopletic. Apocalyptic. And fucking miserable.

Phil Hughes will have as much value as Santana over the next 5 years, at one-tenth the cost. And the Yankees aren't winning the World Series in 2008, Santana or no.

Cashman...don't let Hank Steinbrenner win. Don't bring back the 1980s. Stick to your guns. Threaten to quit, do whatever it takes. Don't let the best pitching prospect in baseball get away.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

2007-11-15T09:06:00.000-06:00

It seems that ARod is heading back to the Yankees. Check out No Maas' interview with Tyler Kepner on the subject.

So much about this scenario is so implausible, I can't believe it's really happening. Not only does Scott Boras need to allow ARod to venture out into the world on his own, ARod has to come crawling back to the Baby Bosses begging for his job back, he has to accept less money than he would have gotten a few weeks ago, and the Yankees' brass needs to go back on their word about not signing ARod once he opts out.

I am truly of two minds about ARod's return. Obviously, his production would have been impossible to replace, and Miguel Cabrera wasn't walking through that door without losing either Hughes or Chamberlain. However, I really don't fucking like the guy a bit, and getting away from his ongoing soap opera would have been lovely.

Dealing with ARod is a constant struggle for me as a fan, because the rational is constantly colliding with the irrational. My head knows they can't make the playoffs without him, my heart wants to root against him for all eternity.

I wonder how Derek Jeter feels today.

Free Agents: Is There Anybody Out There?

2007-11-13T12:38:00.000-06:00

As the Yankees look to build a revamped contender in 2008, sans the OPS and distractions inherent with ARod, the trade market seems like a more viable option than the free agent market.

This year's free agent class makes last year's famously bad group look like they deserve their own wing of the Hall of Fame. There are no superstars out there, no aces, no lockdown closers (other than Mariano Rivera). Teams across baseball, flush with revenue-sharing cash, are signing their young stars to long-term contracts before they hit free agency, so by the time players finally hit the market, they are often well past their primes.

But if the Yankees don't want to part with any of their Holy Trinity of young pitching, they're not going to score Miguel Cabrera, Johan Santana or anyone else who can make up for ARod's lost run production. And they still need to find a way to get better. Somehow. Unfortunately, that means trawling the dregs of this year's free agent class to see if there's anybody alive out there.

Even though there's no huge difference-maker available, if the Yankees can improve by a win here, or 20 runs there, the effort will be worthwhile in what could be a very close division/Wild Card race next season.

So is there anyone who can help? Anyone worth taking a chance on? The Yankees need to leverage their position as a pretty good ballclub with a ton of money by taking chances on guys they can sign to short-term deals. That way, they can avoid Pavano-like commitments, while paying riskier free agents more than they could get elsewhere. Brian Cashman should at least investigate these four players:

1) Barry Bonds - You hate him. I hate him. Even Willie Mays is starting to hate him. But Bonds can be had for a one-year deal, can play DH and a little left field, and could make up for a lot of the missing ARod production. DHing will help him stay healthy, and if he can play 140 games, he can hit 35 home runs. Signing Bonds would also give the Yankees flexibility to explore trading Damon, Matsui or Melky Cabrera. This is what having money is for, guys.

2) Eric Gagne - By all accounts, Gagne's velocity and stuff were the same in Boston as they were in Texas. He was just psyched out by his horrible start for the Red Sox, and never got back on track. Gagne can also probably be had for a one-year deal, and the more potentially decent bullpen arms the Yankees stockpile, the better.

3) Brad Wilkerson - Signing Wilkerson is mutually exclusive with signing Bonds, but he makes for a decent backup plan. He can play some left field, maybe fill in at center, and DH. He'll be looking to sign a short contract to put up some decent numbers in an attempt to prove his stint with Texas was an injury-related fluke. Again, he's a risk, but a risk worth taking for a team that can absorb the loss.

4) Kerry Wood - As Kid K moves further away from surgery and Dusty Baker, he becomes more likely to partially regain his past form. Like Gagne, he's a power arm worth adding at low cost to help out in the 7th and 8th innings. Because Lord knows help isn't coming from within, right, Farnsy?

All four of these guys could end up being worthless cripples by June. But if so, the Yankees won't really have lost anything, other than the draft picks they'd gain for losing ARod. The money won't make much of a dent, and the contracts will be short. Let's see if the young Steinbrenners have any gamble in their blood.

Jorge? Yep. Lowell? Not So Much.

2007-11-13T10:31:00.000-06:00

Jorge Posada has apparently re-signed with the Yankees for 4 years and $52 million plus. For the Yankees, it's absolutely worth overpaying to keep Posada in his decline years, even given that 2007 was likely a fluke. At least for the next couple years, an aging Posada will still be one of the five best offensive catchers in the league. And if the Yankees lost Posada, there was no one else on the market, meaning an offensive strength would have turned into a huge weakness for the team. When combined with the loss of ARod's production, this would have been a death blow for the team's playoff chances. Moreover, Posada can move over to DH or first base in the last year or two of his contract, because The Albatross Jason Giambi will be long gone by then. All things considered, this isn't an unreasonable deal for the Yankees.

Meanwhile, Mike Lowell has yet to re-up with Boston. The Yankees should resist the temptation to tweak their rivals and make a run at the World Series MVP. Lowell is also aging, but he plays a position where it's much easier to replace offense than Posada. His numbers are inflated by Fenway Park, and he's two years removed from a season so poor it nearly ended his career. He won't be worth anywhere near the $50 million for which he's asking. The Yankees would be better off going cheap with Wilson Betemit or exploring a trade.

Let Boston keep Lowell. Let them overpay out of loyalty, under the influence of fan pressure. Let them keep a slightly above average third basemen for his decline phase. If Boston loses Lowell, they could very well get involved in the Miguel Cabrera sweepstakes. And frankly, Boston is in a much better position than New York to trade some young chips to land Fatty Arbuckle. Don't poke the bear.

Shocking: An Idiotic ESPN Article

2007-11-07T15:30:00.000-06:00

Everyone is awfully quick to pronounce the Yankees dead now that ARod is gone, just like they were quick to claim the season was over in early May. But Jeff Pearlman is way, way off-base in his comparison of the 2007 Yankees losing ARod to the 1981 Yankees losing Reggie Jackson.

Reggie Jackson was a 5-time World Champion who had earned iconic status in New York. ARod is a limelight-dreading psycho who has never played in a World Series.

The 2008 Yankees will also have significantly more talent that the 1982 Yankees did, even if Posada, Pettitte and Rivera all walk.

It's just another attention grab from an ESPN writer looking to cash in on the naivete of Yankees-haters who are over-eager to bury the enemy.

Manny Ramirez Has No Soul

2007-11-02T09:39:00.000-06:00

According to Gammons the Great, Manny Ramirez "played his soul out in October."

Wow. How exactly does one play one's soul out, and how does that technique differ from playing one's heart out? To wit, a cheat sheet to playing your soul out:

1) When you hit a long fly ball that may be a home run, an out or a double, lazily meander to first base while watching the ball like a spectator. End up on first with a 400-foot single.

2) Do not slide into home plate, or attempt to jar the ball loose from the catcher on a close play. Simply jog in from third base, and politely allow the catcher to tag you.

3) While running the bases, toss your helmet off at every opportunity, even if it slows you down. That shit's confining, man.

4) Play left field like a drunken opossum.

5) Lots of pointing.

^{The great Manny mid-lope}
I'm also very concerned about how playing with no soul with affect Manny next season. Will it impact his patience at the plate? Will he become a serial killer? We're in the great unknown here, people.

Kyle Snider was Given a Key to the City

2007-11-01T08:16:00.000-06:00

From Peter Gammons' most recent column:

When it came to Tuesday's parade, Mike Lowell, Dustin Pedroia, Jacoby Ellsbury and Jonathan Papelbon received the most attention.

Hmmm....now what do all those players have in common? They're the best players on the team, right? Oh, wait, David Ortiz and Manny Ramirez weren't mentioned.

What could it be? I did hear a rumor that it stayed white out very late at the parade.

Joe Torre is Coach Taylor!

2007-10-31T13:09:00.000-06:00

In that he was complicit in the dishonest dismissal of his predecessor. Coach Taylor let Buddy Garrity do the dirty work for him, and Torre let Dodgers GM Ned Colletti be the bad guy. The difference: Coach Taylor at least feels bad about it.

Scenes From a Parade

2007-10-30T13:50:00.000-06:00

EXT. - BOSTON - DAY
The Red Sox victory parade crawls down Boylston Street. Three Red Sox fans stand on the sidewalk pounding Sam Adams Lights as the floats pass them by. It's 11 a.m.

Sully: YANKEES SUCK!!!

Smitty: Fuck yeah they do! YANKEES MUTHAFUCKING SUCK!!!

Sully: Holy mother of fuck do the Yankees fucking suck!

Fitzie: Dude, check it the fuck out: It's Youk! On that float!

Smitty: YOOOOOUUUKKKKKKK!!!!!!!

Sully: YANKEES SUCK!!!

Fitzie: (pulls off his "Derek Jeter is a Gay" T-shirt; pours beer down his chest) Is it just me, boys, or does the Samuel Motherfucking Adams taste a little bit sweeter today?

Smitty: Fuck yeah it does (smashes his beer bottle at the feet of two high school girls standing nearby) What? What the fuck you looking at? You gotta fucking problem?

Fitzie: (grabs genitalia) You want some of this, ladies? Huh? Yeah, that's right, run away. Fucking bitches.

Sully: I think right now the Yankees suck harder than they ever sucked, kid.

Fitzie: YANKEES SUCK!!! How's ya big payroll now, Yankees?

Smitty: Dude, there goes Coco Crisp. Look at that cocksucker, smiling like he fucking did something. What did you do, Crisp?? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?

Sully: I swear to God, that guy might as well be a fucking Yankee.

Smitty: Holy fuck, there's Jacoby. Jacoby! Ovah here! Ovah here! I fucking love you!

Fitzie: Goddamnit, he won't even fucking look at us. Jacoby! Bastard thinks he's too good to have a drink with some regular Boston boys.

Smitty: Fuck you, Jacoby, you fucking stuck-up piece of shit! We're trading you to the Yankees!

Sully: YANKEES SUCK!!! (punches random black person who happens to be walking by)

Fitzie: FUCK YEAH!! YANKEES SUCK!!!

Sully: Dude, do you know what is so fucking sweet?

Smitty: That fucking ball girl on the right field line's ass?

Sully: That too. But I mean how we were able to win this fucking thing even though we're not some gay-ass big market team like the fucking Yankees.

Fitzie: For real, kid.

Sully: We won this thing cause Theo's a fucking genius, and Dustin Pedroia has the heart of Stone Cold Steve Austin and the Heartbreak Kid Shawn Michaels combined.

Smitty: (singing) I'm just a sexy boy!

Fitzie: The fucking Yankees can spend all their money all they want. All it buys them is Gay-Rod (five minute break while he laughs hysterically at the nickname, then composes himself) who goes like one for a million in the playoffs.

Smitty: But wait a second. Gay-Rod (more giggling) ain't a Yankee no more, so maybe we can't hate him. What if Theo signs him?

Sully: DO NOT WANT! That kid is fucking gay. And he has purple lips! That's gay!

Fitzie: We fucking hate gays! YANKEES SUCK!!!

Smitty: Hey guys, this parade looks wicked sweet. Do you think we should pay attention instead of spending one of the only good moments we'll ever have in our lives talking about the Yankees? Should we let our hatred go?

Sully: ...

Fitzie: ...

Sully: Why are you talking like a fucking fag?

Smitty: Fuck, kid, you're right. (smashes Sam Adams bottle) YANKEES SUCK!!!

Fitzie: Hey, what do you want to do after this? Besides drinking more sweet fucking Sam Adams of course.

Sully: I heard Gone Baby Gone's playing at Kendall Square.

Smitty: Sweet. Let's hit that, then the strip club, then we'll go back to Fitzie's place and draw some sweet fucking pictures of Andy Pettitte making out with Mike Mussina.

Los Angelenos All Come From Somewhere

2007-10-30T12:21:00.000-06:00

Joe Torre and the Dodgers deserve each other. A manager who's too lazy and apathetic to get off his ass even when his star pitcher is being swarmed by MOTHERFUCKING BUGS in a playoff game is perfect for a fan-base that arrives in the 3rd inning, leaves in the 7th, and spends the in-between period texting and making phone calls.

The 2008 Los Angeles Dodgers -- League leaders in truly not giving a fuck. Too bad J.D. Drew's not still around.

Yankees Make an Offer to Joe Girardi

2007-10-29T14:39:00.000-06:00

And, at long last, for the second time, the Curse of Don Mattingly draws to a close.

I love Donnie Baseball as much as the next guy, but look at the team's success in the years he wasn't associated with the organization, beginning with the Babe Ruth era:

1921-1978: 22 World Series titles
1996-2003: 4 World Series titles

That's one championship every 2.54 years when Don Mattingly's not around. From 1979, the year Mattingly was drafted, until his retirement in 1995, and during his stint as a coach from 2004-2007, the Yankees won zero titles in 21 years.

In that light, I'm kind of happy Joe Girardi's our guy.

The Good News for Yankees Fans

2007-10-28T21:09:00.000-06:00

Now we can go right back to hating ARod. The natural order has been restored. Rooting for that faker felt just as false as rooting for Randy Johnson. It's like having to root for America in unjust wars. You feel obligated to, but your heart is never really in it.

ARod Leaves With His Tail Between His Legs

2007-10-28T21:06:00.000-06:00

Dear ARod:

Congratulations. You're now joining the fine, proud company of Ed Whitson, Kevin Brown and Chuck Knoblauch as players who simply couldn't handle New York.

Now matter how much money you make, no matter how many MVPs you win, it will always be part of your legacy: you're a choker who couldn't come through when it counted, and who took the first chance to slink out of town.

Thanks for the first-round losses, champ! I think we'll survive without you.

Kisses,

PF

An Ode to Dustin Pedroia's Grit

2007-10-24T11:33:00.000-06:00

O! Wee second baseman, you've made a city fall in love
Despite your non-existent power and mediocre glove
Your eye black shines just so in the sacred Fenway lights
A testament to hustle, to playing the game right

You've a heart the size of Eckstein
Leadership like Lo Duc
A gutsy mentality, a gritty vitality
And the feisty toughness of the Youk

But still, young Dustin, one puzzlement remains
One befuddlement that lingers in my brain
Yon Coco Crisp has your same set of skills
The steely eyes, the love of bunting drills
Yet young Mr. Crisp will soon be run out of town
For, alas! Alack! His skin is brown

Thanks, Hank

2007-10-22T06:50:00.000-06:00

Welcome to 1985, folks.

Congratulations to the Boston Red Sox

2007-10-22T06:49:00.001-06:00

I hope you enjoy the 1.5 million fans from around the country you won over last night, who will all be wearing those awesome green St. Patrick's Day Red Sox shirts in a few months.

Bye Bye Johnny, Johnny Bye Bye

2007-10-18T14:08:00.000-06:00

Wow.

Joe Torre has turned down an extension to continue managing the Yankees. According to Peter Abraham, Torre was offered a $5 million deal, with an additional $3 million in incentives. I guess at this point in his career, Torre didn't want to take a potential pay cut.

Now we all have to cross our fingers as we venture into the great unknown, and we get our fist new manager since 1996. Changing managers used to be as common for Yankees fans as meeting at the giant Louisville Slugger, now it's a shock and we don't quite know what to do with ourselves.

Don Mattingly does not seem like the right man for the job, but I'm not sure about Joe Girardi, either. I know I don't want Tony LaRussa.

Either way, Torre is able to leave with his dignity intact, resigning rather than facing the axe.

I Told You I Was Sorry About Breaking that Lamp During Game 2

2007-10-18T09:54:00.000-06:00

Someone found their way onto this blog recently via a Google search for "How 2 break up with a psycho."

Hi, honey, is that you?

Douche-K Update

2007-10-16T08:18:00.000-06:00

Red Sox apologists have given up arguing that Dice-K is a great pitcher; no rational argument can be made to that effect.

They have recently taken up the case, though, of claiming that if the dicey one can give them a few solid-to-good post-season starts, and help them win a championship, he will have been worth the $100 million.

So much for that theory, huh?

And He Said Rhiannon...Stay

2007-10-15T09:52:00.000-06:00

Is Joe Torre staying after all?

The Yankees have announced that Hank and Hal Steinbrenner are effectively taking over operations from the team. I can't think of a solid reason why this announcement would need to happen right now, unless the Baby Bosses are planning to retain Torre.

This announcement is their way of saving face for their Dad, so it doesn't seem like his announcement that Torre was managing for his job in the ALDS was empty bluster. Now, they can paint it that when the sons took over, they decided to keep Torre, whereas George had been planning to fire him.

At the very least, the dark princes now have an excuse to do whatever they want without it seeming contradictory to past statements. They've given themselves options.

The Mind is Strong but the Heart is Feeble

2007-10-12T08:47:00.000-06:00

I have campaigned for Joe Torre's dismissal for nearly four years. When he brought Jeff Weaver into Game 4 of the 2003 World Series instead of Mariano Rivera, I considered it an unforgivable mistake that cost the team a championship. It was a fireable offense, and I spent that off-season telling everyone who would listen that Torre needed to go.

Not a brilliant tactician in the best of times, Torre seemed to throw more and more wins away because of bullpen neglect with each passing ring-less season. His refusal to bring his best reliever into a tie game on the road is as well documented as it is foolish. Compounding the problem, he picks one or two relievers each season to wear down to the point of exhaustion or injury, so when anyone other than Rivera is brought into a close game after June, the results are likely to be ugly.

Torre's other in-game management strategies have also failed him in this dim century. He favors "small ball" over sensible ball. He bunts too often, in the wrong situation. He plays the wrong guys (see: Womack, Tony) and mismanages his bench. He seems incapable of catching up to modern baseball thought and employing new approaches, though the same can be said of all but a handful of current managers.

The conventional wisdom on Joe Torre is that his skill handling the New York media and massaging the egos of his star players atones for whatever strategic shortcomings show up during games. But in recent years, the clubhouse has fallen apart, and the tabloids have piled on the Yankees, leaving Torre's worth questionable at best. He failed to quell Hurricane Sheffield, he let players snipe at each other in the press, and worst of all, he let the Alex Rodriguez situation spiral out of control.

ARod is a lightning rod for attention and criticism, so no matter what Torre did, ARod would have dealt with some backlash in New York. In 2006, though, Torre allowed the wildfire surrounding his struggling star to spread and engulf the team. Whether out of misguided "tough love" or genuine ineptitude, Torre submarined ARod in an infamous Sports Illustrated article implying the third sacker didn't have the faith and support of his teammates and manager. Then, in self-destructive move of shocking naivete, Torre batted one of the best hitters of all time (in his prime) eighth in a playoff game against Detroit. This was unforgivable move number two.

Playoff results rely largely on luck, but the Yankees' lack of success on that front, coupled with Torre's obvious procedural shortcomings, seems like clear evidence he should be replaced. Finally, after many years of nightmares in which I'm screaming my throat bloody but no one can hear me, Torre's demise seems imminent.

And I don't know how I feel about it.

Initially, I assumed my mixed feelings were sheer sentimentality, which I needed to vanquish. Torre was around for the best sports era of my life, and he's part of a million fantastic memories. Despite his faults, I once had genuine affection for him, and I realized that when he was gone, I would miss the old goat.

I can't deny that it got to me when he said, after Game 4, "The 12 years just felt like they were 10 minutes long." It all came rushing back to me, flooding my eyes with tears: Paul O'Neill's lunging catch, Joe Girardi's triple, Chuck Knoblauch's bubble, Derek Jeter's flip, Chad Curtis's home run, Jim Leyritz's happy shrug, Mariano Duncan's T-shirts, Don Zimmer's cheeks, Ramiro Mendoza's posture, Scott Brosius's leap, David Cone's perfect game, Mariano Rivera's raised arms.

The champagne, the parades, the ad hoc T-shirt shops set up at corner gas stations the week after the World Series, the newspapers saved under the bed, the sheer fucking joy.

Joe Torre was part of it. And he's one of the last gunfighters still standing. Jeter, Rivera, Pettitte, Posada and Torre. That's it. All of a suddent, next year, it might just be Jeter. What if Torre gets fired, and Rivera, Pettitte and Posada leave in protest? Will a new manager be worth it? Maybe not.

Especially when you start considering possible replacements: Joe Girardi is the best option, but he wore out some young arms in Miami. Don Mattingly has no track record, there's no reason to believe he'll be better than Torre. Tony LaRussa is an egomaniacal dinosaur, stuck in his tropes from a pre-Jamesian era.

Perhaps I'm just getting cold feet. Perhaps I can't bear to say goodbye to one of the last remnants of the glory days. Or perhaps I've been wrong all along, and Torre brings more to the table then he takes away.

Fuck.

Still Not Ready to Talk About It

2007-10-11T15:51:00.000-06:00

Look, Weblog that Derek Built, I get what you're saying, and Scott Raab does seem like he's caught a touch of doucheitis. Fans of teams that beat the mighty Yankees are always insufferable immediately thereafter.

But...

He's right about the 7th-inning stretch thing. It's time for it to go away.

It's Harder Now That It's Over

2007-10-09T10:02:00.000-06:00

I'm genuinely sad for Joe Torre today.

But that doesn't mean he should stay. This team is quickly becoming the Braves of the '90s. Three straight ALDS losses. 4-13 in their last 17 post-season games. Stunning strategic blunders. It's time for a new era.

Maybe with a different manager, the Yankees don't make the playoffs this year. But maybe, if they get in, they actually win the World Series. I'm ready to take the chance.

Take a Bow, Mr. Hughes

2007-10-07T20:17:00.000-06:00

The savior lived up to his moniker tonight, literally saving the Yankees season. Hughes showed tremendous poise keeping the Yankees in the game after Cy Old staked the Indians to an early lead.

If Bruce Froemming had an IQ over 45, this series would be 2-1 Yankees right now.

One note: Joba Chamberlain looked genuinely tired in his second inning, with his velocity significantly down. I know this was an elimination game, but did he have to go two innings? Now he can't pitch tomorrow night, when it might actually be a close game.

Nice Play, Captain Intangibles

2007-10-07T16:57:00.001-06:00

The good Captain has sucked just as hard as Arod in the playoffs lately.

And what will it take to get Joe Torre to bench Matsui? Apparently, threatening his job doesn't even work. Dinosaur.

And now he hits into a double play. Choker.

Meanwhile Chip Caray, the poet laureate of baseball, just called Jhonny Peralta "Johnny on the spot" for making that play. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA.

What a sad waste of a season.

UPDATE: Jeter is now 0-2 with two inning-killing groundball double plays. Yankees fans should be booing him to show ARod it's nothing personal. Jeter really is killing this team right now.

The Wonderful Dreamland of Cleveland

2007-10-06T08:55:00.000-06:00

After the ridiculous bug incident, the Cleveland scoreboard flashed "Bug off Yankees!"

HA HA HA HA HA Cleveland. Thank you for showing your world-renowned sense of humor that has given us such wonderful treasures as Arsenio Hall and Drew Carey. You really are a bastion of culture.

Umpires are Morons

2007-10-06T08:53:00.000-06:00

From AP:

Umpire crew chief Bruce Froemming said he never considered stopping the game."It was just a little irritation," he said. "We've had bugs before. I've seen bugs and mosquitoes since I started umpiring. It might not be a perfect scenario."Within about 45 minutes, basically they were gone. There was just about a 10-minute period where everybody was lathering up," he said.

Yeah, you fucktard, a 10-minute period that just happened to decide the game and probably the series. Hmm...I wonder if delaying the game for those 10 minutes would have been reasonable? Nice logic, you fucking half-wit.

Motherfucking BUGS!!!!!

2007-10-05T22:00:00.000-06:00

Seriously, Cleveland? We all know your fucking miserable city isn't worth a dime to anyone, including its own residents. But you can't keep fucking bugs out of your Major League Baseball stadium?

Fuck you, fuck the umpiring crew, fuck fate, and fuck whatever else causes this biblical plague upon Joba Chamberlain and the Yankees. There has never been a bigger screw-job in post-season history. Not even Don Denkinger. The Yankees season was derailed by poor insect control.

FUCK THIS NOISE.

Cleveland doesn't deserve to exist. Ohioans ruined this country with the 2004 election, and now they've ruined baseball. Congrats, fuckers.

Bugs?!?!?!

2007-10-05T18:33:00.001-06:00

You have got to be fucking KIDDING me.

Bring Me Chip Caray's Head on a Stick

2007-10-05T12:10:00.000-06:00

Eephus Pitch's Emma Span has a write-up of Game 1 over at Spanning the Playoffs, her new Newsday blog (which hopefully won't be ending Sunday night).

She rightfully calls Chip Caray to task for the horrible, biased abortion of a play-by-play job he did during last night's game. My TV was on mute by the 7th inning.

I would take it even further, though, and say that Tony Gwynn is pretty worthless in the booth. He seems like a nice guy, but he brings nothing but the most rudimentary game analysis to the table. And Bob Brenley's a hack. He was awful as a Fox announcer in the late '90s, he's awful as the Cubs announcer now, and I've hated looking at his ugly, Cowherian chin ever since the unfortunate events of 2001. Brenley isn't capable of providing deeper analysis than your average Little League coach. He's strictly by-the-book.

Meanwhile, Craig Sager is a fool, and the crew actually missed bits of the game for his inane interview with the douche who bangs the drum in the stands. Give me a break. I love Freddy Sez, but I don't want to miss pitches in a playoff game to hear his prescient analysis, either.

Between Sager and Ernie Johnson in the studio, it seems that TBS was too lazy and/or cheap to actually hire a baseball crew, so they just paid their basketball guys a little overtime. The boys in the booths in the other series don't seem impressive either, and Dick Stockton for the Cubs/Dbacks series is particularly gruesome.

Where are you, Rick Sutclifffe? Krukie? All is forgiven. Come home.

Thursday Night CF

2007-10-05T12:04:00.000-06:00

I don't understand why Phil Hughes came in for mop-up duty in a blowout, when he might be needed to relieve Roger Clemens in Game 3, or start Game 4.

And I really don't understand why Robert Dunder was manging last night's game.

Game One Analysis

2007-10-05T08:01:00.001-06:00

Why did ARod pitch so terribly? Choker.

The Ghosts of Octobers Past

2007-10-04T09:24:00.000-06:00

In the glitter-strewn twilight of my youth, early October was always the pinnacle of the year. The crisp Northeastern chill in the air led to the breaking out of jeans and light jackets for the first time. More importantly, the playoffs were about to start. My Yankees hat would affix to my (then-thicker) hair, not ready to come off until the Yankees had won a championship. I wore a different jersey or T-shirt each day, dependent entirely on superstition and nonsense. I planned my days and weeks around the games — where I would watch them, and with whom. The entire town buzzed with a newborn excitement that somehow still seemed fresh with each passing season and banner.

And the games...those epic, thrilling games. The nights were alive with endless possibilities of comebacks and champagne-soaked celebrations. The games were tense, nerve-wracking, but ultimately inspiring, because the good guys always seemed to win. Over a five-year span, I even grew cautiously confident, ready to let my superstitions slip away and acknowledge the possibility that the roof might not be caving in.

Then, the roof caved in.

Beloved icons of post-season clutchness retired, got traded or declined. (What's that? Clutch doesn't exist, you say? Well fuck you, I say. And stop interrupting.) The new crowd seemed to be missing something, and the team started losing. Every. Single. Year. Sometimes quickly, without putting up a fight. Sometimes at length, remaining in the death rattle for hours and days, breaking your heart in every way imaginable.

And now, that cautious confidence has given way to simmering dread. I'm still thrilled that the Yankees are in the playoffs, still fighting while most other teams are home, but I no longer expect them to win. I no longer look forward to the games, counting the seconds until they begin. I watch them out of duty, though I expect the most painful outcome possible. I don't believe in this team, and I haven't since 2004, I suppose.

I can't plan my life around the playoffs anymore either. I have a real job, and I have to miss the beginning of early games, which feels like blasphemy. I can't wear my Yankees hat to work, so it sits in the car from 8:30-5:00, lonely and betrayed. I haven't stayed true to my younger self, I guess. I've let that guy down. And the Yankees have let their younger selves down too. And they let me down by losing, and I let them down by caring a little bit less than I used to.

And October's just another month.

I Hate TBS

2007-10-04T09:03:00.000-06:00

Seriously, TBS? 6:30/5:30 Central start time? For realsies? And tomorrow's game starts at 5:00?? People with any kind of commute will miss half or more of the game.

I never thought I could miss ESPN so much.

Also, all of your play-by-play men are horrible, and Frank Thomas seems illiterate in the studio.