Blogs – Page 232 – Keefe To The City

Aug 9, 2012

A Bleacher Creature in Toronto

Sheriff Tom shares stories from north of the border as he remembers some of the Bleacher Creatures’ road trips to Toronto.

After years of terrorizing our own shores, around 2000 a rowdy bunch of Bleacher Creatures decided to steer – en masse – to Toronto to bring a taste of the Stadium bleachers to our friends to the north. I made three of these annual trips, possibly four, and remember about 1.2 of them combined. Thanks to my scorecards and notes, stories told over the years in campfire fashion amongst the Creatures, around sandboxes in the park or over bleacher benches, and road trip accounts printed over the years by bleacher luminaries like Grover and MetsSuckBalls Marc (aka Balls), the tales live on. There are so many stories, so we’ll revisit Toronto and for now I will simply cover “The Lunchbox Incident, “The Wacky Wall of Death” and “The Beer Line Tragedy.”

The first time I saw the SkyDome I was agog. After years of being confined to the Yankee Stadium bleachers like a pea in a pod, even the humongous walkway behind the outfield seats was something I wanted to buy a drink and attempt to make love to. I was enamored. I’m in no way saying I wanted the Yankees to play their home games in this flying saucer instead of the legendary “House That Ruth Built,” I was simply glad I was able to get up and walk around. (Oddly enough, now this wraparound walkaway has made its way behind the bleachers in the new Yankee Stadium and I’ve about had my fill of it, but that’s a blog for another day.) I’m sure the fact that there weren’t many people at these games in Toronto as there are at your average Yankee Stadium tilt has something to do with it. (I’m not too much a fan of people.) But wow, what Toronto did with it! There were beer vendors everywhere and spacious bathrooms and guys playing bagpipes for our entertainment! I was even fascinated by the simple things surrounding the place, though some try to pass them off as “engineering marvels” such as watching the roof closing overnight from our room overlooking the playing field.

The fans were nice, at times amused by our antics, at other times somewhat befuddled. They were possibly scared, although we were full of joy, and not menace. We were pretty much a traveling road show. From Roll Call to raucous choruses of “The Saints Go Marching In” just for the hell of it, it was always a nice time in Toronto. And picture this: anywhere from 20 to nearly 60 Bleacher Creatures, tucked into the right-field seats, and then running rampant through the streets. Anything you can imagine that would happen when you transplant this sort of group to another country pretty much did. (I’m still clearing it with people what can and can’t be told, and signing contracts to that effect.)

Around this time I remember the Yankees giving away such trinkets as a cap that had a sponsor logo from Waldbaum’s on the back that was bigger than the “NY” in the front and a “care package” which contained things like tissues and hand soap. And here were the Toronto Blue Jays giving away old-school metal lunchboxes! Complete with flask! Eh, I mean thermos! Insane!

The lunchboxes were plastered with action shots of Blue Jays in losing form, but these things would have totally been all the talk in an elementary school lunchroom. And here they were, being passed around like manna from heaven, and not just to the little scamps at the game, as we rowdy Bleacher Creatures ambled our way in, we were also handed metal lunchboxes.

I know what you’re thinking: weapon! While this did indeed cross our minds, it was more in a slapstick Three Stooges sort of way than a “Let’s whomp a Jays fan” sort of way. (Though whomping the Jays mascot was certainly kicked around. Why wouldn’t it be?) But no, we found a better way to use these lunchboxes. As we all merrily held our lunchboxes aloft in triumph as we stomped to our seats, a wary security guard thought of yet another way for them to be used to seek tumult … as simple noisemakers. Thinking that was the worst that could happen he remarked, “I don’t care how you use them as long as they don’t end up on the field.” Well, they didn’t. We had other ideas.

Put these things together:

1. Seats out in the outfield expanse, facing the hitter and home plate ump.

2. Metal lunchboxes.

3. Our good friend, the smiling sun.

Well, even as some of us were still settling in, arguing about our placement in the Bleacher Creatures seating chart prepared for this venture, others were already hard at work, attempting to blind the Toronto hitters using the lunchbox. I have to give Balls the credit for conjuring up this one, although over the years, Big Baloo has tried to hone in and get some credit for it. At the end of the day, it was sweet science, really. Here’s a pack of Bleacher Creatures working the lunchboxes as marionettes to catch the sun in the best way possible in order to shoot zooming flashes of light toward the plate. But it didn’t last long.

Before another half was in the books the same security guard ambled up, a sheepish look on his face. His head was shaking slowly in bemusement as he let us in on a little something: the home plate umpire had had about enough of us. At first flash, the man in blue figured someone was simply holding up a lunchbox and telling a friend three rows back, “Hey, look at this effing lunchbox!” After the second flash, he started to get annoyed that people simply wouldn’t put the things down, as wondrous as they admittedly were, and watch the game. After flashes No. 3 through 782 he figured out what was going on and decided to put the kibosh on it. According to our new security friend, the ump waved over some security honchos, made his agitated complaint and voices crackled back and forth on walkie-talkies. This led to the lackey security guard posted in our usually staid and somber section marching back up to inform us that we were to cease and desist from flashing the lunchboxes at the batter’s box. A hearty heave-ho was threatened and possible seizure of our offending lunchboxes. So much for his permission to do anything with them, but toss them on the field. Still, at this we all had a hearty chuckle, congratulated one another on a job well done, and moved on to the next thing.

I still have this lunchbox, and it occupies prime shelf space next to my signed “You suck, too!” Bobby Higginson baseball, and a crushed Budweiser beer can that pro wrestler The Sandman crumpled on his own bloody forehead and then promptly threw to the crowd, which I went home with. Bedecked with Roy Halladay and Eric Hinske (the only two guys to make both sides of the lunchbox, Kelvim Escobar, Vernon Wells and inexplicably Joe Lawrence and Felipe Lopez. I actually took the lunchbox to work with me this week and housed my lunch in it! My bag of Dipsy Doodles never had it so good! The thermos, however, is long gone, and there is quite the blackberry brandy story behind that one. I received a healthy dose of mirth this morning as I rode the elevator up to my floor with a somber individual, who could not take his eyes off his fellow workday wonder, standing there looking all grumpy as always, while holding a metal Toronto Blue Jays lunchbox circa 2002.

***

I will never forget my first look at what was soon dubbed “The Wacky Wall of Death.” We were marching along a street around the SkyDome, looking for our next madcap adventure. Across the street I saw people standing about, looking at some sort of display and pointing and laughing. If I didn’t see people pointing and laughing, I never would have led the group over to investigate. People were having a great time, and leaning in and taking pictures by what appeared to be a series of plaques. I had to get in on this.

We march on over, and I was suddenly transplanted to that fine line between appalled and amused. On the surface, there was nothing funny about this thing. It was a monument dedicated to those who have fallen “in the workplace.” It’s entitled “101 Workers” and it’s considered a work of art. (I welcome you to Google it, and read more.) I respect fallen workers, their families, their legacies, and the work and tears that went into this monument and what it conveys. I just wish some of them had not died like this.

The plaques had a name, a date of their workplace demise and how this was attained. We weren’t expecting these sorts of follies, in such detail.

“FELL OFF BREWERY TRUCK.” Bleacher favorite Grover cracked, “Brewery truck, huh? We all know how that happened.”

“SLED FELL THROUGH ICE, DROWNED.”

“ENTANGLED IN TRENCHING MACHINE.”

“JUMPED FROM TRAIN THAT WAS ABOUT TO COLLIDE WITH ANOTHER TRAIN.”

“FELL OFF TRUCK WHEN HIT BY POLE OF TRUCK GOING OPPOSITE WAY”

And the absolute belle of the ball, in which a poor sod was … “CRUSHED BY BEING PINNED BY THREE DIFFERENT THINGS.”

How the hell does one manage that? I have only ever been pinned by two. Well, actually, a gang of five girls jumped me on the F train once, so make that five.

So yes, this monument was bringing on the wrong sort of attention to these fallen workers. Trust me, it was not just a raucous bunch of bleacher people, there were tourists in Bermuda Shorts and Niagara Falls T-shirts and kids holding balloons and blowing bubbles while finding the “funniest plaques.” I even saw one guy make a phone call right there to let one of his friends in on a plaque he found amusing. Entire families were passing their cameras to locals walking by so they could pose together in front of the monument, bedecked with smiles, throwing devils horns, giving thumbs ups and winking like they were “in on it.” Every damn time we went back to Toronto, the same scene unfolded. It got to where I even wanted to write a letter suggesting they station a guard at this thing to shoo people away if they find anything funny. While to this day I feel a little sketchy laughing about all this, as Balls succinctly pointed out when I cast these reservations this week while recounting this stuff, it screams slapstick, and on trips like this, personal and real-life tragedies are put aside.

Consider this line that has survived the ages that came from one of these Toronto trips. At one point during one of the games out there, I was cracking wise about a sad story in the papers at the time. Gang Bang Steve said with a hangdog look, “But Tom, that is a tragedy.” I then looked at him, took what was left of my beer, dumped it on the floor beneath me and deadpanned, “No, Steve … that is a tragedy.”

***

Most beer line stories are sad, downright Shakespearean Tragedies when you really think about it, with beer prices being what they are. Well, I fell in love there at the SkyDome and her name was beer. Her friends called her Labatt Blue. Guys like me ended up calling her often. I was so enamored I ended up logging quite a lot of time in the beer line up there in Canada. To this day, when I’m stuck in a line, I simply pretend I’m waiting for a Labatt in Toronto, and I calm down. Though one trip went very, very wrong, but since the good guy always wins in the end, it had a happy ending.

The wonder of it all was that they sold these frothy wonders in 22-ounce cups, which was unheard of to this crew used to drinking warm cups of slop in the Yankee Stadium bleachers in our youth, only to see even those banned by this time in our section. (Much more to come on that.) In Yankee Stadium the beers were generally sold in these plastic wax cups, which would leave slivers of wax floating in your beer that looked like rice if you were generous with your descriptions, and maggots if you were not. Beer plus wax cups plus sun equals warm swill, akin to holding a cup of butter used to baste your seafood lunch. Here in Toronto we had good Canadian beer, served in a solid cup complete with structure and foundation, and it was cold at that. Yay!

So one fine afternoon there I stood in the beer line, regaling my new Toronto fans with the sort of stories you read above. At some point I catch the eye of the beer vendor, a true MVP in my book to this point. He surely sees me since I have always been hard to miss. This is key to the story. This line creeps along, which is why one must always go back to the beer line when they still have about half a beer left so you have something to drink while you wait.

I slowly make my way to the front and I’m a few stories in by this point. And then my card is pulled. Though it’s my turn and I have the “Kid at Christmas” look, I’m told I’m to be served no more. The vendor freely admitted I didn’t seem intoxicated, and added that he personally found me very entertaining. However, they keep a count of sorts, and I had reached the limit on 22-ounce beers at this venue. At this point I’m quite irked, mainly due to the fact that this guy saw me in line a full 10 minutes before and could have waved me up and informed me of this news, so I didn’t waste half an inning telling stories that my new friends will never forget only to not get a drink. But no, he waited until I got up to the front and made me a martyr. I blame my Yankee cap and Yankee shirt and obnoxious Sheriff badge. (Basically all the stuff that got me kicked out of Fenway Park before I ever got in.) At this point I decided to make a speech. (I was always good at that when I didn’t get my way.) And then two angels came to my rescue in the form of “G.I. Jane” and “Big Woman” who were two locals and are still friends to the family to this day. (Life lesson: Help someone out in the beer line and meet friends for life.)

Poked in the back, G.I. Jane and Big Woman tell me to head left and they will handle this Labatt Blue issue for me and it will cost me nothing, but time. At the promise of free beer, I pulled to the side like a giant cane was yanking me off a stage, and the ladies obtained me a precious beer. Heroes! Friends to the North! Canada rules! Put Rush in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame! Actually this idiot vendor telling me I could no longer procure my wares at his booth turned out to be the best of things, as I duly reported upon my return that I was “cut off” and rounded up some volunteers to get me beer for the rest of the day, so my work was done.

I haven’t been to Toronto in over a decade and I really can’t see myself making it back there anytime soon. As stunning as this sounds, I ‘m having a hard enough time convincing my nine-year-old daughter to come with us to Yankee Stadium so a baseball game 12 hours away by car will not be looked upon with the same appeal as a Big Time Rush concert put on by Nickelodeon. The Bleacher Creature road trips have since spun off across the map, in smaller clusters, but I will never forget storming these SkyDome shores with this lusty army dozens strong. But to this day whenever the Yankees go up there or I watch a game from that ballpark on the baseball package, I remember that stadium and our times in and around it. There are more tales to tell, more names to bring in and more laughs to be had, including Eight car caravans from New York City to Toronto, border crossings, bars, the Hockey Hall of Fame, hotel room wrestling matches and pranks. I even have a handful of scorecards from Toronto that have survived the trip across the border, so those will be making the rounds as well.

It’s the Yankees turn to visit Toronto this weekend. Maybe I should grab some Labatt Blues from the distributor. G.I. Jane and Big Woman … you’re buying! Cheers!

Blogs • Yankees

Aug 7, 2012

Postseason Pitching Fears

After Justin Verlander’s 14 strikeouts on Monday night, it’s time to start thinking about which pitchers the Yankees shouldn’t want to see in the ALDS this October.

I spend an unhealthy amount of time worrying about who the Yankees will play in the ALDS, considering the possibilities and doing hours of math involving the American League standings. But I have learned over the years that all the time I spend looking at the standings, matchups, lineups, rotations and history is meaningless and the stress caused by my obsession of picking a first-round opponent for the Yankees is unnecessary.

I can’t make the Yankees have the best record in the AL and put the Orioles and White Sox in the one-game playoff and then have the Orioles win that game so the Yankees play them. I can’t hope that the Yankees face the Orioles rather than the Rangers, White Sox, Tigers, Angels, A’s, or Rays. However, no matter what I want, it usually plays out the way I want as if I’m the subject of a Matt Christopher book, and it’s not always for the best.

Last year I wanted the Yankees to play the Tigers in the ALDS, just like I did in 2006, and it backfired, just like it did in 2006.

In 2010 and 2009, I wanted the Twins and it worked out.

In 2008, I hated baseball for the summer. I like to pretend that season didn’t happen the way the 2004 playoffs didn’t happen because of the strike. Remember the strike of 2004? That sucked.

In 2007, I wanted the Indians. When Johnny Damon led off the series with a home run, I had the same “This is too easy” feeling I had when the Yankees crushed the Tigers in Game 1 the year before. Chien-Ming Wang made me regret my decision to want the Indians in Games 1 and 4 (Paul Byrd helped me regret the decision in Game 4), and when Joba Chamberlain was sprayed down with bug spray for the midges (which we later found out was the opposite way to handle the midges and was basically the equivalent of jumping into a pool of sharks while holding steaks and having open wounds on your body) while Fausto Carmona/Roberto Hernandez kept pitching like nothing was going on (I think I actually saw him eating some of the midges), I knew the Yankees were effed.

We talked about 2006, so in 2005 I stupidly wanted the Yankees to win the division and they did on the final weekend of the season thanks to the head-to-head tiebreaker. But because of this, they had to face the Angels in the ALDS instead of the White Sox. Now the White Sox did win 99 games, but I think if the Yankees had faced the White Sox, I don’t think they would have lost to Jose Contreras, Mark Buehrle and Freddy Garcia (and an epic relief appearance from El Duque) the way the Red Sox did and I don’t think Ozzie Guillen is still a manager in the league because he wouldn’t have that World Series on his resume, which has to be the only thing keeping him employed. Then again, maybe the Yankees beat the White Sox, but the Red Sox beat the Angels and then beat the Yankees in the ALCS for the second year in a row and I’m off the grid for now almost seven years with no human interaction, or maybe I’m living in Iceland and doing whatever people do in Iceland, which I would think doesn’t involve watching or following baseball.

In 2003 and 2004 I also wanted the Twins and I got them. In case you haven’t noticed, the Yankees haven’t advanced to ALCS against a team not named the Minnesota Twins since 2001 when they came back from down 0-2 against the A’s in the ALDS. (I just checked and the Twins are 12 back in the Central and 10-1/2 games back in the wild card. This isn’t good for the Yankees’ chances of getting to the ALCS.)

Like I said, the amount of time I have spent over the years trying to figure the best possible ALDS matchup for the Yankees has been a complete waste of time. If I had put this much time into actual schoolwork over the years, who knows where I would be right now? Maybe I would be teaching advanced physics at Yale or working as an orthopedic surgeon and living in Greenwich? Instead I’m looking at Ivan Nova’s 2012 game log and wondering how the guy who went 3-0 with a 1.26 ERA in five starts in June has gone 1-4 with a 6.75 ERA in seven starts since July 3, filling A.J. Burnett’s 2010-11 role nicely.

On Monday night, Nova was bad again (5.1 IP, 11 7 R, 7 ER, 0 BB, 5 K, 2 HR) and the Yankees lost to the second-best pitcher on the planet (you’re welcome, King Felix). Justin Verlander turned in an eight-inning, 14-strikeout performance to beat the Yankees for the first time in three starts this season. His effort combined with home runs from Prince Fielder and Miguel Cabrera confirmed that I won’t be pulling to see the Tigers in the ALDS this year.

But if not the Tigers, then who? It’s too hard to say. The second wild card has turned the league into a five-alarm gongshow and there are currently seven teams within five games of a one-game playoff. When you factor in the three division leaders that leaves just four teams (Seattle, Cleveland, Minnesota and Kansas City) whose seasons are actually over. The Yankees could potentially play the Rangers, White Sox, Tigers, Angels, A’s, Orioles, Red Sox or Blue Jays in the ALDS. That means I really have nothing to pull for, wish for or root for. The second wild card has taken the Yankees’ first-round opponent out of my hands even if it’s always been out of my hands.

So since I can’t hope for a team, Verlander’s start on Monday night made me think about which pitchers I don’t want to see in the five-game series. And because Felix Hernandez’s career is being wasted on the Mariners, Cliff Lee and Roy Halladay are in the NL and Colby Lewis is out for the year, I narrowed it down to four starters that I don’t want to see in the ALDS this fall.

(List Spoiler Alert: James Shields and Jered Weaver are NOT on this list. If I need the Yankees to win an elimination game against “Big Game” James who has the most misleading nickname since my friend we call “Big Kinsel,” who is a 5-foot-10, 155-pound Asian, or Jered Weaver, who is a blood relative of Jeff Weaver, I’m more than confident. If the Yankees have to face either of those two pitchers in a must-win game, I’m “Coach Taylor trailing 26-0 at halftime of State” confident in knowing that the Yankees are going to be fine.)

4. Ryan Dempster
I couldn’t even type that with a straight face. OK, let’s be serious…

4. Doug Fister
This isn’t as much about Doug Fister as it is what he represents. Fister is the non-elite starter who possesses the recipe for disaster for the Yankees. He knows how to pitch; he isn’t going to ruin a game unless someone like Al Alburquerque (yes, he’s real, Mike Francesa!) gets called upon to ruin it for him; he isn’t going to maybe have it or maybe not like A.J. Burnett or Max Scherzer; he’s going to keep the Yankees off balance, throw strikes and not hand out free passes. Doug Fister represents Colby Lewis, Tommy Hunter, Paul Byrd, Kenny Rogers and Jeremy Bonderman and all the other starters that have beat the Yankees in the playoffs in recent years that you weren’t worried about losing to before the first pitch.

Find me a Yankees fan that thought the Yankees would lose Game 5 of the 2011 ALDS. When your back’s against the wall in an elimination game on the road with A.J. Burnett on the mound and you escape a bases-loaded jam in the first inning and go on to win to send the series back to the Stadium, you know you’re going to win. I knew the Yankees were going to win.

They didn’t win.

Yes, Fister lost the weird Game 1 at the Stadium last year and got charged with six earned runs, but four of them came on the grand slam that Alburquerque gave up to Robinson Cano. He bounced back in Game 5 of the series at the Stadium in a game no one thought the Yankees could lose. He was forced to throw 92 pitches in five innings, but only allowed one earned run on a two-out solo home run to Cano with the Tigers up 3-0 in the fifth.

Doug Fister reminds me of Cliff Lee. He works deep into games, doesn’t throw hard, has great location, doesn’t walk a lot of people and started to make a run at being an elite starter in his late 20s. When I hear “Doug Fister,” I think “Cliff Lee.” When I see Doug Fister, I think right-handed Cliff Lee. When it’s the playoffs, the last person I ever want to see is Cliff Lee, and that means I don’t want to see Doug Fister. He’s already gone into the Bronx and won when no one thought he could. When you survive an elimination setting in the Stadium, you earn the element of fear from me.

3. Chris Sale
Chris Sale is 23 years old. He has made 19 starts in the majors. He has never thrown a pitch in October. Those three things might make you wonder why he is on this list. These next two things won’t.

Chris Sale throws with his left arm. He has never started a game against the Yankees.

The real No. 1 pitcher on this list should be Any Lefty Pitching Against The Yankees For the First Time or Any Starter Making His MLB Debut, but since that’s not a real person, I couldn’t give the No. 1 spot to a general group of pitchers. Chris Sale is very close to being part of the group.

Sale has actually pitched against the Yankees before, but has never started a game. He has made three relief appearances, pitching 3-1/3 scoreless innings and allowing one hit with two walks and five strikeouts. This year Sale is 13-3 with a 2.59 ERA, 8.3 K/9 and 2.1 BB/9 and 12 of his 20 starts have been six innings or more with two earned runs or less.

Chris Sale means Robinson Cano and Curtis Granderson are less dangerous, Mark Teixeira and Nick Swisher get turned around, Ichiro is less effective and the short porch at the Stadium isn’t the same.

I don’t want to see an elite lefty or someone who doesn’t walk people against the Yankees. That’s Chris Sale.

2. David Price
David Price means Robinson Cano and Curtis Granderson are less dangerous, Mark Teixeira and Nick Swisher get turned around, Ichiro is less effective and the short porch at the Stadium isn’t the same.

I don’t want to see an elite lefty or someone who doesn’t walk people against the Yankees. That’s David Price.

Sorry, I didn’t want to plagiarize myself, but I had to.

Price has made three postseason starts and lost them all. However, those three postseason starts came against the 2010 and 2011 Rangers. His line from those three starts: 19.1 IP, 24 H, 11 R, 10 ER, 1 BB, 17 K. Again, we’re talking about the best offense in baseball in the Rangers, and not the most sporadic offense in baseball (especially in October) in the Yankees.

The Rangers would probably welcome David Price in Game 1 of the playoffs, but a power lefty against the Yankees’ lineup? I’ll pass.

1. Justin Verlander
You would think that after an eight-inning, 14-strikeout performance from the reigning MVP and Cy Young, I would want no part of seeing Verlander for a third time in the playoffs in the ALDS, and you’re right, I don’t. But if it happened I wouldn’t be that worried either. Verlander doesn’t put the fear of God in me the way that Felix or Cliff Lee do, but he’s right there.

In all honesty, I’m not as scared of Justin Verlander as I probably should be. The Yankees have beat him in in two of his three starts against them this season and they rallied to come back against him in Game 3 last year. In 2006, they would have won Game 2 against him if Mike Mussina didn’t cough up the game the way only Mike Mussina could.

I said I wasn’t going to waste anymore time trying to solve the Yankees’ potential ALDS opponent puzzle or trying to worry about pitching matchups and I meant it. The only thing I really need to worry about is whether the middle of the order will hit with runners in scoring position, and that’s not something I can change or something I should spend my summer worrying about. I have October for that.

Blogs • Yankees

Aug 2, 2012

Rick Nash Really a Ranger and Other Thoughts

Thoughts on the reality of Rick Nash becoming a Ranger, something Ivan Nova and Carl Pavano have in common and the false hype and hope of the MLB Trade Deadline.

Last February I wanted Rick Nash on the Rangers in the worst way. I thought the Rangers had to give up whatever it took to get Nash, even if that meant Chris Kreider, and I campaigned hard for Glen Sather to get it done.

Sather tried to get it done by supposedly offering Brandon Dubinsky, Tim Erixon, J.T. Miller, Christian Thomas and a first-round pick for Nash. It was a deal the hockey world collectively agreed was a great return for the Blue Jackets, but Scott Howson turned it down and then denied it was ever offered. Howson missed the trade deadline and it looked like he would have leverage in the offseason with more teams in the mix, and could possibly get even more from the Rangers for Nash if they didn’t win or reach the Cup. But then Howson outed Nash by saying he asked to be traded, compromising his leverage and forcing him to have to move his franchise player in the offseason no matter what. So Howson accepted the Rangers’ offseason offer on July 23 of Brandon Dubinsky, Artem Anisimov, Tim Erixon and a first-round pick, which was significantly lower than the original reported offer. The Blue Jackets never intended on keeping Rick Nash because they couldn’t keep Rick Nash. They had “tried” to build their team around him, but never gave him adequate pieces to play with. (Question: How does Scott Howson still have a job?)

I thought the Rangers had to have Rick Nash at the trade deadline because they lacked premium and consistent scoring for the postseason and with a young defense, it was going to come down to Henrik Lundqvist every game again … and it did. Once the crazy bounces stopped going the Rangers’ way, and the shots from the corner stopped deflecting off defenseman’s skates and going in, and they stopped scoring in the final seconds … the Devils beat them.

A lot of people opposed trading for Nash at the deadline because of his contract, the years on his contract, his salary and the cap hit. Others cited the Rangers being “two games away from the Cup” with the team they have as a reason to not trade for Nash. But when you think about them being down 3-2 to the eighth-seeded Senators and needing to win back-to-back elimination games, being forced to a Game 7 against the seventh-seeded Capitals (and they needed to win in triple overtime in Game 3 and a goal with 6.6 seconds left in Game 5 before another overtime win) and then losing to the rival Devils, a 6 seed, in six games, it didn’t feel like they were just two games from the Cup. The only time the Rangers won back-to-back games in the postseason was in Games 6 and 7 of the first round. Technically they were two games away from the Cup, but really they weren’t that close.

I hadn’t written about the Nash trade yet, partly because of the Yankees and partly because it still hadn’t really set in that Rick Nash is a Ranger. When was the last time I had really, really wanted a New York team to get Player X and it worked out? It certainly didn’t work out with Cliff Lee and still hasn’t. But last week the Nash trade became a reality when I walked by the NHL store on 6th Avenue and saw his No. 61 jersey displayed in the front window. Then this week at Yankee Stadium I saw several people wearing Nash shirts for Yankees-Orioles and it really started to set in.

With Nash officially a Ranger I wanted to look at the three main reasons I kept hearing as cons to trading for him aside from his contract.

1. Don’t Give Up Chris Kreider
I was ready to give up Kreider in February when no one else was (except for WFAN’s Brian Monzo). Kreider played well for three years at Boston College, but he also didn’t put up better numbers than a lot of other BC and Hockey East players that ended up becoming average NHL players. The jump Kreider made from the NCAA ranks to the NHL playoffs was impressive, scoring five goals and two assists in 18 games in three tight series, and he showed a glimpse of what Rangers fans can expect in the future. But Kreider was also picked 19th overall in the 2009 first round and was the 28th of 30 players from that first round to appear in an NHL game, so it made me skeptical as to why the rest of his class had already been in the league and he kept returning to BC.

Would I have traded Kreider this offseason for Nash after having seen him in the playoffs? Probably not. But it’s not because I think he’s a guarantee to become the type of player or offensive presence that Rick Nash is, but it’s because I didn’t think the Rangers would have to give him up to get Nash. When Howson didn’t trade for Nash at the deadline and then said Nash wanted out, you knew Howson wasn’t going to get what he wanted anymore. I thought the Blue Jackets would get more than they ended up getting (I thought it would take Derek Stepan or Carl Hagelin), but I didn’t think they would get Kreider and they didn’t, so all Rangers fans got what they wanted.

2. Nash Can’t Win Because He Hasn’t Won
A lot of uninformed or unintelligent fans cited Nash’s four playoff games in nine seasons as a reason to not trade for him. Because it’s his fault the Blue Jackets reached the postseason once, and not the poor supporting cast or defense and goaltending situations. And let’s forget that he’s a first-liner on Team Canada with Sidney Crosby. Yeah…

3. His Offensive Numbers Aren’t That Good
Nash’s worst goal-scoring season came in his rookie season in 2002-03 when he scored 17 as an 18-year old. The sad thing is that was his worst offensive season and those 17 goals would have tied him for fourth on the Ranges last season with Stepan for goals on the team. Stepan was 21 to start last season. Since his rookie year, Nash has put up 41, 31, 27, 38, 40, 33, 32 and 30 goals. In that time, the wing’s best centers have been R.J. Umberger, Antoine Vermette and a 36-year-old Sergei Fedorov. That’s real life.

I haven’t been this excited about a New York trade in a long time. I’m excited for the Rick Nash era in New York because he’s Rick Nash and because he’s been one of my favorite players in the league since his rookie season. I’m more excited for the people that only know his name and not his level of play to find out just how good he is.

***

The worst Yankees start I have seen in person at Yankee Stadium came on May 28, 2005 when Carl Pavano and the Yankees lost to the Red Sox 17-1. Here’s Pavano’s line from that day: 3.2 IP, 11 H, 5 R, 5 ER, 1 BB, 2 K. (Tony Womack hit second, John Flaherty hit eighth and Robinson Cano hit ninth so it was a weird day.) It was actually the last time I would see Pavano pitch in person until Opening Day 2007 (since he would soon be out for the rest of 2005 and then all of 2006) when he got the start by default and injuries (ironic). That was a bad day in the Bronx, but Tuesday night against the Orioles might have been worse.

When the Yankees went up 5-0 in the first, I was laughing with my friend and his brother about how we might be able to go to the Yankee Tavern in the third inning if the Yankees kept it up. We didn’t know the Orioles were going to answer with seven two-out runs in the top of the second, including a Chris Davis grand slam.

When the Orioles made it 5-3 with the bases loaded and Davis coming up, we joked that he was going to his a grand slam. I jokingly predicted it was going to go where the Yankees’ bullpen meets the auxiliary scoreboard. Then when he crushed an 0-1 pitch that just kept carrying and carrying and eventually hit the top of the wall in left-center and bounced over, we weren’t joking anymore.

I’m not sure if Nova is going to get a postseason start with CC Sabathia and Andy Pettitte at the front of the rotation, Hiroki Kuroda having a great year and Phil Hughes pitching well. If Nova wants to be in the conversation and avoid being the Javier Vazquez of 2010 and the A.J. Burnett of 2011 when it comes to the rotation, he needs to start pitching the way he did in June (5 GS, 3-0, 1.26 ERA).

***

I spent an unnecessary amount of time over the last month going to MLB Trade Rumors, reading what Buster Olney and Jon Heyman wrote and clicking any headline or link that teased some sort of rumor. I even forced myself into following Ken Rosenthal for the last few hours of the deadline (don’t worry I unfollowed him at 4:01 p.m.). That’s how enticing and addicting the MLB Trade Deadline can be.

I don’t remember every deadline or every move at every deadline, but this had to be in the Top 3 worst trade deadlines ever. The hype of Cole Hamels, Cliff Lee, Justin Upton, Matt Garza, James Shields, Josh Beckett, Jon Lester and Jacoby Ellsbury led to nothing happening. I blame Bud Selig because he’s the one to blame. With the one-game playoff, there are currently eight teams with a chance at a wild card in the AL and there are five with a chance in the NL. Teams in the AL didn’t know if they should be buyers or sellers or if it was worth giving up pieces of the future for a chance to play one game and then face the Yankees or Rangers in the ALDS.

During the final hour of the deadline the Yankees made a push for Ryan Dempster because the Cubs were running out of time and it was going to cost the Yankees nothing. I didn’t want Ryan Dempster unless it cost them nothing and even then I didn’t want Ryan Dempster because I didn’t think his success would translate in the AL East or in the AL playoffs. However, by the end of the 3:00 hour I wanted the Yankees to get him just because it had dragged on and it felt like they had to do something at that point even if they didn’t need to and even if it didn’t make sense to.

I thought the Yankees needed to add a starting pitcher and I still do, but it shouldn’t have been Ryan Dempster and I’m glad it wasn’t. The guy I wanted the Yankees to get is the guy I wanted them to get in December 2010 and now he might be available again and Texas better not get him.

Blogs

Aug 2, 2012

Scorecard Memory: Section 39 Becomes ‘Trouble Pocket No. 1′

Sheriff Tom goes back to April 13, 1996 in Section 39 of Yankee Stadium for a Yankees-Rangers game.

This is the a recurring series of recollections, where I will be marching though my old scorecards from my halcyon days in good old Section 39 of the Yankee Stadium bleachers. You’re invited to join me. Please bring beer.

April 13, 1996: Yankees host the Texas Rangers. (A Saturday day game following a night game.)

Ah, a Saturday afternoon game following another notorious Friday night game. Considering how much drinking was going on before Friday’s game, during Friday’s game, after Friday’s game, before Saturday’s game and during Saturdays game, it’s a wonder anything survives from this weekend’s scorecards at all. Considering how much drinking was going on after this Saturday game, it’s a wonder that the scorecard actually made it home with me.

This game was sloppy both on and off the field. Dwight Gooden got the call for the Yankees against the esteemed Roger Pavlik, and they were both whomped around. The game was long, and there was a veritable conga line around the bases for both clubs.

The key thing coming out of this game is the first mention of the term “Trouble Pocket No. 1.” By this point one of the scions of security out there admitted to me that there was an entire bank of cameras upstairs focused out on the bleachers, most of them aiming directly at us in Section 39. Why? Apparently certain areas of the Stadium were a more worthy watch than others for those sitting upstairs at camera banks seeking out any trouble percolating and we topped the list. Therefore, we were apparently known upstairs as “Trouble Pocket No. 1.” When you really think about it, that kicks ass.

Around this time, as if all the other silly gimmickry surrounding us was not enough, I was carrying around a dirty little teddy bear at the games. Akin to the ones you would win at a carnival for knocking down only one of three pins, this thing was bedecked in a Yankees jersey, but wearing no pants. Today, I have no idea where the hell it actually came from, and I don’t know what eventually happened to it, though I recall on more than one occasion fellow Bleacher Creatures did things like toss him out of a moving car. So let’s go with that … he’s on the side of a lonely parkway somewhere. What name did I bestow upon our furry friend? “Bear Ass.” Yes, “Bear Ass,” so even then I was quite the wordsmith. Gang Bang Steve explained this name away easily enough at the time by cracking, “Yeah, Bear Ass. As in I would be ‘em-BEAR-ASSed” to carry around that thing.”

Things like Bear Ass would reside in my vinyl duffel bag with all the holes burned through it from our dropped cigar ashes until I felt like throwing around some curse words to add emphasis to a heckle. For some reason no living being was allowed to curse aloud out there, but if I did it holding Bear Ass or a hand puppet aloft, security would let it go with a wink. Bear Ass was also famous for helping to calm the frightened children out there and many of them babysat Bear Ass while my wacky friends and I would be making beer runs. As I said, Bear Ass’ stint was soon to end in mysterious fashion, but on this day I noted on the scorecard the Yankees were rocking a 15-3 mark with him in attendance since his debut sometime in 1995. On this night, an old friend named Sandy put her young daughter on babysitting duty although I was deep enough into my cups that it was I who needed a babysitter. Sandy’s daughter also found time to steal the scorecard to draw circles and scribbles here and there. (Side note: Sandy once put me on the phone with Roy White who I guess was a friend of hers. I was drunk, but do recall thanking Mr. White for affording me joy over the years.)

Gang Bang Steve was also deep into his cups that day according to an eyewitness who was kind enough to note that on my scorecard. He was also in a bad mood, griping about Tina, the Queen of the Bleachers, who “did not pay $21.” This was emphasized in print a couple of times on the card. What Tina “did not pay for,” what even cost “$21 dollars” and why it had Steve so incensed is long lost to time. I can’t imagine why any money would be changing hands between Tina and Gang Bang Steve at any time, but he was going on about it enough to where it was duly noted.

“Tom’s a maniac!” was mentioned in the same handwriting that alerted us to the $21 dollar thing, so my act seemed to be playing well.

A couple of jokes on here were sparked from baseball caps. A guy was on hand wearing a Cincinnati Reds cap of all things, which started, “Cincy sucks! Bunch of umpire killers!” (A little background there: Cincy was the place where poor John McSherry had a heart attack on Opening Day and passed on the field, which we noted ended up pissing off 56,000 fans who just wanted to see baseball on that day.) “Hey, how about knocking off some American League umps?” we asked the Reds fan, who was stunned at the attention he was getting. A bit later, a creaky old man came up the stairs to hoots to “Get him, he stole Babe Ruth’s cap!” which he then removed and waved aloft.

For some stupid reason (probably because we were both too drunk to do it) Steve and I passed the scorecard off to Angel (she of the “I never knew Cal Ripken was black” fame) and she completely effed it up. She even copped to it by scrawling, “Angel’s fault (I don’t know how to keep score)” on there, which makes you wonder why she bothered to take the scorecard in the first place. If it wasn’t for the wonders of online box scores years later I wouldn’t even be able to tell you who won this game after looking at this thing, let alone how.

This night happened to be Dwight Gooden’s first Yankee Stadium start in pinstripes, and there seems to be a message on the card alluding to this, but it’s vague so I’m not really sure what it’s actually trying to say. In one of our many scorecard boners over the years we mentioned how it was the first Yankee Stadium start for Andy Fox, and I can confirm after all this time we were off by a couple of days. He actually debuted two days earlier on home turf, and I was nowhere to be found for that historic event, although I’m sure I have lied about that to impress girls somewhere along the line. While I’m at it I can also confirm Andy Fox’s middle name is Junipero. (You’re welcome.) He ended up going 1-for-3, scoring a run and stealing two bases, so he was out there spreading all kinds of false hope around.

As always the opposing outfielders were under attack, and people were finding all sorts of ways to rhyme things with “Greer” to get under his skin. Folks were also enjoying calling Juan Gonzalez his popular nickname of “EEEE-gor” in mocking fashion, and by this time the sniping was going both ways, and he was trading barbs and insults with us on a regular basis. He deserves recognition as one of our all-time favorite foes for always mixing it up with the fans.

Ah, I see my old buddy Ian’s beeper number on here. I’m going to assume 16 years later that it’s no longer up and running, but if anyone wants to give it a go it’s 917-329-2263.

A couple of notes from Steve’s drunken scrawl, which I learned to read over the years the way a druggist somehow reads a doctor’s handwriting. “Oriole fan busts his ass in the tunnel” which is fun and to the point, sort of reminiscent of the old “an old man fell down the stairs” that got this whole thing started back on a 1993 scorecard. There was also a direct, “see you in September, di*k-head!” Why this was said and to who is up for debate, but maybe it was about Tina snapping back at Steve regarding the $21 he was whining about. To cap off the loony notations on here, when Texas notched three runs in the seventh to take their first lead of the game, Steve earmarked this event with “Weak-ass 7^th inning.”

In your random factoids of the day, it’s noted that at this early stage of the season the two teams with the worst records in baseball were the Red Sox and Mets, which is always nice to see. In other baseball news, Alejandro Pena was appearing in his final major league game that day, so there was some history going on after all, even with us wrong on the Andy Fox milestone!

The Yankees lost this ugly one 10-6, getting outhit 14-11. Wade Boggs, Paul O’Neill, Ruben Sierra and Joe Girardi all had two hits for the good guys, and Jim Leyritz contributed a first-inning home run. Your Yankees lineup:

1. Wade Boggs, 3B
2. Jim Leyrtiz, LF
3. Paul O’Neill, RF
4. Ruben Sierra, DH
5. Tino Martinez, 1B
6. Bernie Williams, CF
7. Joe Girardi, C
8. Andy Fox, 2B
9. Derek Jeter, SS

As for the hill, after Gooden was smacked around, Mariano Rivera came in for an inning-plus worth of relief, followed by Steve Howe and Bob Wickman.

(Funny side note related to some of the evening’s participants: Not long before this during a pregame, a bunch of us gazed over the fence as the Yankees wrapped up BP and watched Jeter and Mariano standing a few dozen feet from each other there in the outfield having a lazy catch. “That there is the future of the Yankees” someone not identified said with fervor, and it made the card. I’m sorry I can’t give that person the credit now, but yes, that was spot on.)

The Rangers countered with:

1. Darryl Hamilton, CF
2. Mark McLemore, 2B
3. Will Clark, 1B
4. Juan Gonzalez, RF
5. Mickey Tettleton, DH
6. Dean Palmer, 3B
7. Rusty Greer, LF
8. Dave Valle, C
9. Kevin Elster, SS (LOL)

Gonzalez (that pain in the ass) went 3-for-4 with three RBIs and Hamilton added three hits of his own. After Pavlik was chased after five pedestrian innings, Gil Heredia and Ed Vosberg wrapped things up. On a comic note, Pavlik also made two errors on the day, which was surely good for a laugh. Then again, at the end of the day and with a win under his belt, he was 3-0, so I guess the last laugh was on us.

Let’s roll with a quickie profile, and how about Dave Valle, who started on this night over the venerable Pudge Rodriguez.

Valle was yet another catcher that stuck around a long time because he was a wall behind the plate and a defensive dynamo. A Bayside, N.Y. native who remains the only major leaguer to come out of the hotbed that was Holy Cross High School in Flushing. He plied his trade from 1984-97, moving from Seattle (where most would recall his exploits) to Boston to Milwaukee to Texas. 1996 was pretty much the end of the road for him, so we were happy to get our last looks.

Valle played 970 games in 13 seasons, with a lifetime average clocking in at a piddly .237. He did loft 77 home runs, and drove in 350. From 1991-93 he played in 132, 124 and 135 games for Seattle, so he was high-profile, but he usually hung around 90 or so games in a given year. In ‘93 he was hit with a whopping 17 pitches to lead the league, so I’m guessing he was pissing people off and paying for it. He stole five bases in his vaunted career, but was caught seven times. (Way to go, there!) He had a 258-413 walk to strikeout ratio, that’s OK. He even made $2.3 million in 1993! Originally a second-round pick in the 1978 draft, he was born in 1960 and can currently be seen making appearances on MLB TV after a stint of well over a decade in the Mariners’ booth, where he still does “spot starts” to this very day. His page on Baseball-Reference 15,829 views as of Aug. 2 seems sadly scant. I was glad to see him play!

As for this weekend affair, there was a pathetic showing of 19,603 on hand, which I blamed on a “big wind.” The game slogged along for three hours and 32 minutes and your umpires on hand were Rocky Roe handling the plate, the late and lamented Durwood Merrill (1B), Gary Cederstrom (2B) and Dale Scott (3B).

Thanks for accompanying me on a trip to an otherwise nondescript Saturday afternoon in the Bronx in April of 1996. There are crazy things afoot for the next one, so be there!

Blogs • Yankees

Jul 30, 2012

Yankees-Red Sox Weekend Diary

The Yankees dropped two of three to the Red Sox, but with a 7 1/2-game lead in the division, it’s not a big deal.

“Maybe they [the Yankees] won’t get in [the playoffs]. Who knows? Crazy things happen in this game.”

Those words are from a real man in real life. Those words are from Bobby Valentine after Sunday night’s game.

I’m in a surprisingly good mood for a Monday in which the Yankees lost two of three to the Red Sox in the Bronx. Why?

But the only thing keeping my mood from being as good as it could possibly be is knowing that Bobby Valentine went to bed last night and woke up today with a smug grin on his face after his team won an extra-inning game at the Stadium following his ejection. If you don’t think he has a smug grin on his face today then you didn’t watch the game last night. If you need a recap of the game just re-read the above quote.

There’s a 100-percent chance that Bobby thinks his antics following a botched, but difficult hit-by-pitch call was the reason for his team’s win rather than David Robertson walking Jarrod Saltalamacchia to lead off the 10th and then giving up two singles. It was Bobby Valentine’s charisma and geniusness (no, that’s not a real word) that led to Will Middlebrook’s line-drive single and Pedro Ciriaco’s bloop to right field. Orel Hershiser even said, “This is a way to get his team inspired.” Once again, the Red Sox are 51-51.

It was all Bobby Valentine. Well, maybe not all Bobby Valentine. The Red Sox might have also won because of Josh Beckett even though he didn’t throw a pitch.

Beckett joined Valentine in berating the umpires for a call that would have been hard for any home plate umpire to make, let alone one that was on the ground in pain because Middlebrooks couldn’t get a bunt down properly or pull his bat back in time.

“[Beckett wanted this win as badly as I did,” Valentine said. “He shows that a lot. I guess it was on national TV, so it’s even better.”

Beckett really wanted that game on Sunday night. Either that or he knows he can’t be missing from the dugout and back in the clubhouse during games anymore, but if he can’t be in the dugout by rule? Well, that’s a different story. But Beckett wanted this game bad. His last start in Texas when he blew the game on a wild pitch? Ehh, that one he didn’t “want” so much. (I like how Valentine had to “guess” that the game was on national TV even though it started at 8 p.m. on a Sunday and there were ESPN banners hanging down the lines and he was part of that same broadcast team last year and he did a segment with them during the game between innings. Good “guess!”)

Bobby and Beckett (potential children’s book title?) weren’t the only ones putting on a show for the the only .500 team to still regularly participate in nationally televised games. There was Adrian Gonzalez chirping the umpires from the dugout as he apparently found someone other than God and the nationally televised schedule to blame the Red Sox’ problems on.

It shouldn’t bother me that right now Bobby Valentine is somewhere smiling and maybe building a fence or a deck, thinking that he willed the Red Sox to a win. It bothers me a little less when I remember that despite losing two of three at home to the Red Sox, the Yankees still lead the East by 7 1/2 games and lead the Red Sox by 9 1/2 games.

I decided to go to the diary format that I used for the first part of the Subway Series back in June for this past weekend. Just pretend like you’re reading this in one of those black-and-white Mead composition notebooks.

FRIDAY
We’ll never know what would have happened if Mark Teixeira didn’t beat out that potential inning-ending double play in the first, which turned a scoreless inning for the Yankees into a three-run first. But let’s not pretend like Aaron Cook would have shut the Yankees out for the rest of the game.

There are pitchers that “pitch to contact” and then there’s Aaron Cook. Cook has thrown 40 innings for the Red Sox in seven starts. He has only walked four hitters, but he’s also only struck out four hitters. That might be a way to navigate through a lineup like Seattle, which he did on June 29 with a complete-game shutout, but when you’re trying to go through the Yankees lineup without an out pitch at Yankee Stadium you’re going to be back in the clubhouse early setting up the beer pong table with Josh Beckett.

Phil Hughes allowed three runs, but it should come as no surprise that the three runs came on three solo home runs. Hughes leads the league with 25 home runs allowed, and has matched his total from 2010 despite nine less starts and 55 fewer innings pitched, and he still has 12 or 13 starts left this year. I’m not sure if Hughes is going to get a postseason start this year, but if he does, it can’t be at Yankee Stadium. Even though he’s 7-3, 3.93 at home and 3-5, 4.27 on the road, Hughes has given up 17 home runs in 68 2/3 innings at home.

Thank you, Mark Melancon. That’s all.

SATURDAY
Every once in a while CC Sabathia has these starts where he can’t get it together and you get the feeling that every pitch is going to end up falling in somewhere. For some reason these starts seem to frequently come against the Red Sox.

Sabathia did a terrible job in his previous by allowing back-to-back home runs to the immortal Brandon Inge and Kurt Suzuki (who always hits CC well) and let the A’s back in a game they would come all the way back to win. There’s nothing really more to say other than chalk it up as another bad start for CC against the Red Sox, and I’m sure he’ll bounce back and cruise through the Mariners lineup this weekend.

If you read any Boston sports site on Sunday morning, you would have thought Jon Lester went out and pitched a complete-game shutout. “Lester can build off this start!” “Maybe Lester is about to get hot!” “Lester can save the season!”

Guess what Jon Lester’s line was on Saturday.

6 IP, 4 H, 4 R, 4 ER, 2 BB, 6 K, 2 HR

He entered the game with an embarrassing 5.46 ERA and he left with a 5.49 ERA. That’s right his ERA went up, but somehow he has a chance to build off this start. Hey, whenever the ace of your staff is going to use the equivalent of 6.00 ERA to build off you know you’re in good shape. When you combine Lester’s fantastic six-inning, four-run start with Beckett’s Hall of Fame heckling abilities, maybe that big run Bobby Valentine has been talking about since April isn’t an empty promise or his version of Michael Scott’s “Scott’s Tots.”

I’m not sure there are any Vicente Padilla fans out there. Not one. And I’m only talking about him from his on-the-field antics, which include starting multiple bench-clearing brawls and frequent head hunting. I have yet to find a redeeming quality from Padilla other than he usually blows up in a big spot against the Yankees.

Padilla’s nemesis, Mark Teixeira, got the best of their battle on July 6 at Fenway with a two-run triple for which I awarded Teixeira 25 games of “Ladies and gentlemen” immunity. On Saturday night Teixeira tagged him for a game-tying, two-run home run and earned himself an additional 15 games of “Ladies and gentlemen” immunity. After hitting his mammoth blast deep into seats, Teixeira moved slower out of the box and down the first-base line than Jorge Posada ever did trying to break up a double play. If I’m Joe Girardi, the next time Padilla enters a game against the Red Sox, I would make sure my guys are on the top step, and I would tell Mike Harkey to have the bullpen door unlocked and ready to swing open.

As for Curtis Granderson … a bad time to make a bad read.

SUNDAY
I can’t remember not being upset about losses to the Red Sox the way I was on Saturday and Sunday night. But if you want to win games in extra innings, you can’t walk Jarrod Saltalamacchia, a .233 hitter with a .285 on-base percentage entering the game, to begin the 10th inning. You also might want to score more than two runs on seven hits and five walks. Just some advice for next time.

Hiroki Kuroda redeemed himself after that horrendous Fourth of July weekend start against the Red Sox that he made me sit through at Fenway Park. Kuroda lowered his ERA to 3.28 and now 11 of his 21 starts have consisted of at least seven innings and two earned runs or less. I had put the “Coin Flip” nickname on temporary hold, but I think the name is gone forever. In fact, I’m willing to forget that I ever created it in the first place.

For a moment during the Sunday Night Baseball broadcast, Terry Francona had nothing insightful to add to the broadcast so he went to the recycling bin for the overused conversation starter of “The new Yankee Stadium isn’t the old Yankee Stadium.” Thanks for the observation, Terry. Is the “new” anything the same as the “old” anything? Everyone misses the Stadium from the other side of River Ave., but it’s gone and there’s a public park in its place now. The almost four-year-old Yankee Stadium is now Yankee Stadium, and no amount of conversations about it not living up to the old place are going to bring the old one back.

Francona complained about the atmosphere at the new Stadium and Orel Hershiser chimed in about the fans not getting as loud as they used to in the old one especially for a Yankees-Red Sox game like Sunday night. I would put my level of caring about the outcome of Yankees-Red Sox games up against anyone not playing in the games, and if I’m here saying that I wasn’t that upset with the outcomes on Saturday and Sunday night then I’m not going to expect the Stadium crowd to be that distraught about the Yankees’ AL East lead falling to 7 1/2 games and their lead over the Red Sox falling to 9 1/2.

The Red Sox haven’t won a postseason game since the new Stadium opened and the one time they came to the Stadium for a meaningful late-season series was in August 2009. The Yankees swept that four-game series and in the series finale on Sunday night, Johnny Damon and Mark Teixeira went back to back off Daniel Bard and I heard the Stadium as loud the old place would get for a regular-season game. The new place gets loud when it needs to (the way it did for A-Rod’s two-home run off Joe Nathan in Game 2 of the 2009 ALDS, and Teixeira’s walk-off homer in that same game), but it’s hard to keep getting excited about playing a last-place team.