Blogs – Page 233 – Keefe To The City

Jul 27, 2012

My Favorite Things About the 2012 Red Sox

The Red Sox are at Yankee Stadium for the weekend, so let’s look at some of the things that make the 2012 Red Sox the disaster that they are.

I shouldn’t be writing a column about how much I hate the Red Sox and calling the AL East race over given my history with my enemy. But math says I can write it and get away with it. Here’s why.

The Yankees are 59-39. The Red Sox are 49-50. The Yankees have played .602 baseball. The Red Sox have played .495 baseball. If the Yankees play .602 baseball the rest of the way they will go 39-25 and finish the season at 98-64. That would mean the Red Sox would have to go 49-14 to tie them. But let’s say the Yankees, for some reason, play just .500 baseball the rest of the way, going 32-32 and finishing the season at 91-71. The Red Sox would have to go 42-21 to tie them, and the Orioles would have to go 39-24 and the Rays would have to go 40-23 and the Blue Jays would have to go 42-22 to catch the Yankees. One thing though: the Yankees aren’t going to play just .500 baseball the rest of the way.

So it’s time to tuck the 2012 Red Sox in and put them to bed when it comes to the division. We could probably turn out the lights on their wild-card aspirations as well. Yes, the Red Sox are only 4 1/2 games out of playing in a one-game playoff, but there are also seven teams ahead of them, and they are the last possible team with a shot because the Mariners, Royals and Twins are all 10 1/2 games out or more. So not only do the Red Sox need to play better than they have since the beginning of September 2011 (and nothing suggests they will), they need six teams from the list of the Angels, A’s, Tigers, Orioles, Rays, Indians and Blue Jays to play worse than them.

I never thought things could get any worse for the Red Sox than they were after the last game of last season. Who would have thought things could get worse than having the Boston Herald call you the “Best Team Ever” and NESN saying you are going to challenge the 1927 Yankees as the “Greatest Team in Major League History” before blowing a nine-game lead in September? And who would have thought things could get worse than having the best manager in franchise history “fired” and slandered on his way out and the general manager of the franchise’s turnaround leave to go work on another epic championship drought? Who would have thought that things could get worse than the owner of your team barging into the station of the city’s No. 1 afternoon drive show only to make a fool out of himself, leaving an endless supply of sound bytes and drops for that station for the rest of their existence? I never thought things could get worse for the Red Sox, but they have, and I can’t describe the amount of joy running through my body because of it.

Talking about this team is like reminiscing about my favorite parts of Dumb and Dumber with my friends. “Oh man, my favorite part was Harry’s face right before Joe is about to eat the burger!” “No, wait … my favorite part was when Lloyd gives Nicholas the IOUs!” “Actually my favorite part was when Lloyd is trying to read the newspaper!” “No, I take it back. My favorite part was when Lloyd tells Harry that he sold Petey!” When I talk about the 2012 Red Sox I get that excited. I can’t figure out if my favorite thing is that John Lackey is making $15.25 million this year to not pitch (and $15.25 million for each of the next two years to likely pitch poorly) or that Carl Crawford still has five years left on his $142 million deal after this season. Or it might be that Josh Beckett is hated by the entire city of Boston or that David Ortiz called Boston a “sh-thole” and openly complains about the contract he agreed to any chance he gets, but he still gets a standing ovation before each at-bat at Fenway.

Since the Red Sox are a train wreck that arrives in the Bronx this weekend for a series that could put the final dagger into the hearts of Boston baseball fans looking for something to fill the time between now and the Patriots’ Week 1 game, I decided to put together a list of some of my favorite things from my favorite figures that take the most blame from Red Sox, and therefore are my favorite Red Sox.

– “Bobby Valentine is a baseball genius.” That is what the public was told about him over and over during the winter and spring. Maybe he is. Maybe he has just been dealt a bad hand with a bad team. But I’m not sure the “genius” tag belongs to someone in charge of a 49-50 team on July 27.

Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t stand looking at Kevin Youkilis on the Red Sox, and I still can’t stand looking at him now that he’s on the White Sox. But I respected Youkilis and that he became a strong part of the rivalry and what made the rivalry special. And that’s why it was disgusting to watch him get removed for a pinch runner at Fenway while Bobby Valentine stood on the top step in the Red Sox dugout clapping for Youkilis, as if he were proud of him, and getting the rest of the team up to clap for him, and then pushing Youkilis out of the dugout for a curtain call. Was Bobby applauding in celebration of what Youkilis meant to the Red Sox in the pre-Bobby V era or was he applauding that he had won the war with Youkilis and he had finally got rid of him?

– Joining Bobby V in the applause for Youkilis was Adrian Gonzalez. Gonzalez stood there clapping as the face of the future of the Red Sox with six more years left on his contract despite being the face of the new-look Red Sox that have failed to meet expectations.

I was petrified of Gonzalez joining the Red Sox last season and taking that swing to Fenway Park and to Yankee Stadium and the short porch for nine games a year. Now? I’m not exactly nervous about Gonzalez stepping into the box. Neither was Chris Davis.

Gonzalez (or “Gonzilla” as NESN once tried to dub him) blamed the Red Sox’ 2011 season on God and the national TV schedule. So who is he going to blame the 2012 season on? Bobby Valentine? Ben Cherington? Tim Thomas’ Facebook page?

– Carl Crawford plays left field, and when you play in left field you need to be able to throw the ball to the infield. The problem is Crawford’s playing with an elbow that will need to be surgically repaired sometime between now and next season, and he is unable to make all the throws. So what does that mean? Well, it means that the Red Sox are trying to find a way for the shortstop to help Crawford make the throws to the cutoff man less strenuous. You know, normal Major League Baseball problems. No big deal.

Crawford was one of my favorite non-Yankees, which I wrote about on Wednesday and there aren’t many of those. (Really he was before the Rays became a threat, so I’m talking about the 2002-2007 Carl Crawford). Once he became a Red Sox I despised him though I can’t stop thanking him for eating seven years and $142 million from the Red Sox, which will cost them the opportunity to re-sign Jacoby Ellsbury after next season. Maybe this is his way of paying me back for enjoying his play all of those years? Thanks, Carl!

– Josh Beckett has been the starting pitcher on my All-Animosity Team for three straight years, and I have only been making an All-Animosity Team for three years. And there’s a good chance that even when he doesn’t play baseball anymore he will still hold that spot because that’s how much I hate Josh Beckett.

Every start that Beckett goes out and loses means another day I can read negative stories about him, so for me it’s easy to root against him. You would think that it wouldn’t be as easy for fans of the team he plays for to root against him, but that’s not the case. Hey, at least Red Sox Nation and I can agree on one thing!

Beckett was the Pied Piper of the pitching staff with the beer drinking and fried chicken eating. He played golf despite missing a start due to injury and then told the media that he can do whatever he wants on his off day and that his off day is his off day even if it was his off day during a time when he missed a start. Before the season he put it out there that his wife and baby and his family were the most important thing to him, which is sensible, but is that a reason to not be good at your job? I think there might have been one or two other MLB players who were able to balance having a job for seven months a year and a family, but I could be wrong.

Part of me wants Beckett to get traded with the Red Sox forced to eat a large amount of his contract. But the other part of me wants him to stay with the Red Sox and continue to lose games for them. Really, it’s a win-win situation.

– Try to guess who these two pitchers are.

Pitcher A through 20 starts: 124.2 IP, 105 H, 64, R, 58 ER, 58 BB, 104 K, 17 HR, 4.19 ERA, 1.311 WHIP

Pitcher B through 20 starts: 120.1 IP, 138 H, 79 R, 73 ER, 38 BB, 100 K, 16 HR, 5.46 ERA, 1.462 WHIP

Pitcher A is A.J. Burnett in 2011 for the Yankees.

Pitcher B is Jon Lester in 2012 for the Red Sox.

Is there anyone in Boston giving Lester the “Ladies and gentlemen” treatment every fifth day?

There was a time when Jon Lester was the last pitcher I wanted to see against the Yankees. There was a time when you could have given me Justin Verlander or David Price or Roy Halladay against the Yankees or Jered Weaver or Cliff Lee … well no, not Cliff Lee … or James Shields or Felix Hernandez … actually don’t give me Felix Hernandez either. OK, so when you factor in Lee and Hernandez, there was a time when Lester was the third-to-last pitcher I wanted to see against the Yankees. That’s still pretty good. The point is that time is over. Right now I want the Yankees to face Jon Lester. I’m excited for Saturday’s game. I want Jon Lester on the mound at Yankee Stadium.

Dennis Eckersley has picked Lester to win the Cy Young seemingly every year for the last four years (though I can’t confirm that he did this year, but I’m just going off history). And while Eckersley might be the biggest homer on a network that also boasts Tom Caron and Jim Rice, it made sense to pick Lester in 2009, 2010 and even 2011. But after last season, he shouldn’t be a choice anymore. If Eck picks him in 2013 I think he might want to find a new job.

In spring training, Lester apologized for the chicken and beer in 2011. He has gone on the record several times to hold himself accountable for his 5-8 record and 5.46 ERA. It appears as though he genuinely cares about the winning, and that’s why it makes it even better that his name is being rumored as a potential trade chip. Please Ben Cherington, trade Jon Lester! Please!

Blogs • Yankees

Jul 24, 2012

Number 31, Ichiro Suzuki, Number 31

The Yankees added the perfect piece to their 2012 puzzle when they traded for Ichiro.

It’s rare that I really like non-Yankees. I always had a soft spot for some Tampa Bay players (before they became the Rays and actual competition) like Carl Crawford (before he became a Red Sox) and Scott Kazmir (before he became an Angel because the Mets — I found out on Tuesday morning that he is now pitching for the Sugar Land Skeeters of the Atlantic League). For some strange reason I liked Rey Ordonez because of his fielding even if he was a .246 career hitter, and I also liked Carlos Baerga (again I don’t know why). But my favorite non-Yankee of all time is now playing right field for them.

Maybe I never would have liked Ichiro if the Yankees hadn’t steamrolled his 116-win Mariners in the 2001 ALCS, and he had burned them the way that Juan Pierre would two years later in the World Series. But the Yankees did destroy them, and Ichiro and the Mariners haven’t played October baseball since their 12-3 loss to the Yankees in Game 5 of that ALCS on Oct. 22, 2001.

That game, which happened almost 11 years ago, is the reason Ichiro changed clubhouses, numbers, positions (when Nick Swisher gets back) and roles on Monday. That game is why Ichiro went to Mariners ownership and asked to be traded in the final months of his $90-million deal for a chance to play in the postseason for the first time since his rookie season.

I grew to love Ichiro because he was and is cool. Everything about him from putting his first name on the back of his jersey (which I didn’t like at first) to his jersey pull to the way he swings (in the summer of 2002 I mirrored my left-handed Wiffle ball swing after his); the way he leaves the box; the way he fields; the way he throws; the way he runs; the way he talks to the media like this gem with Bob Costas, and even the way he could hit a walk-off home run off of Mariano Rivera.

I was eating dinner on Monday night and trying to make sense of the surreal feeling that Rick Nash is actually a Ranger (after months of campaigning on Twitter with WFAN’s Brian Monzo) when my friend texted me to say that he saw “Ichiro was switching clubhouses.” I had texted him earlier in the day about the Nash trade and then the Tigers-Marlins trade, so I thought he was just mocking my excessive trade texts. I went on Twitter and there was Jack Curry’s tweet followed by dozens of responses to the deal, which took longer to scroll through than the Pearl Jam section of my iTunes.

How awkward must Monday have been for Ichiro? You’re the face of the only franchise you have known in the majors and you’re traded to a team you’re supposed to be playing against in just a few hours. So before you walk to the other clubhouse and put on a new uniform for the first time in your 12 years in the league, you have to sit beside your owner and GM, who you asked for a trade, and watch your owner read a prepared speech about your career straight from paper like a nervous third grader giving a student council election speech. Then you give your own statement in Japanese. Then you have to sit through your translator give the same exact statement in English. Then your new manager comes out to tell the media how you will be used on your new team. Then you take questions from the media about leaving the only team you have ever known only to play against them that night in their stadium. Whether it was when he was getting ready in the Yankees clubhouse or putting on his No. 31 jersey or when he took the field at Safeco in the bottom of the first instead of the top, at some point Ichiro had to have asked himself: Is this real life?

(What happens with Ichiro’s translator? Does he get traded too? Does he join the Yankees’ payroll and uproot his Seattle life, or is he unemployed?)

And talking about awkward, how about the Mariners fans who aren’t Internet savvy or aren’t Twitter users or just weren’t aware of the trade when they showed up to Safeco on Monday night? “Honey, why is Ichiro playing right field with a Yankees uniform on?”

A lot of critics have been quick to joke that this trade is about seven or more years late, but no one is mentioning that Jayson Nix and DeWayne Wise were getting regular playing time with Brett Gardner out, or that Raul Ibanez was playing a little too much left field. Was anyone really going to feel comfortable with Wise facing Justin Verlander or Jered Weaver in October? I know I wasn’t. Did anyone want Andruw Jones going into left field as a “defensive replacement” with a one-run lead in the ninth inning of a playoff game?

Two-plus months and October of Ichiro for D.J. Mitchell and Danny Farquhar? If Glen Sather hadn’t fixed the Rangers’ scoring problem by getting one of the only true pure scorers in the game for just Brandon Dubinsky, Artem Anisimov, Tim Erixon and a first-round pick earlier on Monday, Brian Cashman might be on a float up the Canyon of Heroes this morning. I guess he could still take a cab up it if he really wants to.

This isn’t the Lance Berkman deal of 2010 (at least I hope it’s not) even if has a few similarities like going from a last-place team to a playoff team or the pending free agency. So, if Ichiro becomes overweight and looks a slob for the final two months and then signs with the Cardinals, gets into shape and rededicates himself to the game and saves his team’s season in Game 6 of the World Series in an eventual championship then I will really move to Europe and become a soccer fan.

This deal isn’t the Ivan Rodriguez deal of 2008 either. This isn’t the Lance or Pudge deal because I don’t think Ichiro lost it overnight between 2010 and 2011, and I don’t think he’s mailed it in for the last year and a half the way Berkman did with the Astros and Yankees. I think Ichiro is a superstar who has deserved a better supporting cast in Seattle since Oct. 22, 2001, and hasn’t gotten it. He’s been stuck in a lineup with Brendan Ryan and Chone Figgins. Casper Wells leads the Mariners in average, on-base and slugging with a .261/.331.447 line, and Justin Smoak, the team’s home run leader with 13 was sent down to Triple-A after Monday’s game. If Kevin Youkilis’ situation in Boston screamed “Trade Me!” then Ichiro’s situation was in need of a 20-story billboard in Times Square, a Super Bowl commercial and maybe even the rights to a stadium name reading “Trade Me Right Effing Now!” the way Denis Lemieux asked to be in Slap Shot. Over the last few years, Ichiro became the poster boy for “change of scenery” and he went about getting it the right way.

Today’s Ichiro might boast a poor .261/.288/.353 line, which is far from where he was just two years ago (.315/.359/.394), but at this time yesterday Ichiro was probably counting down the days to the offseason. He was going to go to Safeco to likely hit second behind Casper Wells and his 123 career hits with the 100 hits and 13 career home runs of the 22-year-old Jesus Montero as his protection. At this time yesterday Ichiro and his Hall of Fame resume was going to play the first game of the Yankees series in the same lineup with possibly four players hitting under .200 in Miguel Olivo, Justin Smoak, Chone Figgins and Brendan Ryan. (The Mariners only ended up playing two guys hitting under .200 with Smoak and Ryan.) Instead Ichiro hit eighth for the Yankees, lost in a lineup where he isn’t being asked to be the offense, but rather just part of the offense.

The Yankees don’t need Ichiro to be the 28-year-old Ichiro for 162 games, which is what the Mariners needed. The Yankees just need Ichiro to be a piece to the puzzle for the second season. And this piece fits perfectly.

***

My book The Next Yankees Era: My Transition from the Core Four to the Baby Bombers is now available as an ebook!

Blogs

Jul 24, 2012

Former Bleacher Creature Foe Ichiro Now a Friend

Sheriff Tom welcomes Ichiro to the Yankees by looking back at the hard times the Bleacher Creatures have given other legendary players.

In this age of social media slamming, it was interesting for me to watch the reactions across the board from Yankees fans when Ichiro was traded. It actually sailed by the head of one of my buddies, who was out mini-golfing of all things. He came home after chopping up that course, had a hearty repast and settled in for the Yankees game. Imagine his surprise when he saw Ichiro settling under a line drive in Yankees duds.

Immediately after hearing of the deal I scrambled to my binders of scorecards to seeing if I happened to be in attendance for the fanfaronade of Ichiro’s 2001 debut, or any other big games the man partook in. Well, I got hit with the slapdash of reality that my last scored game was from 2000, even though I have surely been out there a fair deal since then. My days of “scoring” stopped once I started getting into the games in the fourth after prolonging my drinking time outside, so I have nothing documented on this man, but I do have the memories.

I remember Hiro, a longtime creature who was also from Japan, eagerly giving us lessons in the language out in the seats, so we could shout an insult Ichiro would actually recognize. And I remember our good friend MetsSuckBalls coming in with printouts from his computer with all kinds of naughty Japanese words. (Hey, its how we worked out there!) The printouts weren’t just for Ichiro. They were for all the Asian baseball fans he brought in with him. Bless them.

Did people respect Ichiro? Surely. Did we boo him? Oh, very loudly. When a legend comes to town you take a moment to appreciate them, and then move on and fight for your home turf. I think back to when Tony Gwynn, that roly-poly hitting machine, came to town for some hot World Series action. The first time he came shambling out to the outfield, we welcomed him with a warm hand. We were standing, waving, welcoming him to New York and wishing him well. He grinned and waved back. Everyone was happy. Then the game started and the first pitch was thrown. “Hey, Gwynn!” someone hollered. “You suck!” At this, hundreds of people jumped back to their feet and a “Gwynn sucks! Gwynn sucks! Gwynn sucks!” chant boomed through the night. Gwynn was taken aback. The affair was over. Respect was shown, but now it was time for rancor.

Ichiro understood this. Sure, we would talk out there about how annoying he was, how stupid it was that he was swinging at pitches over his head or buzzing the ground and pinging them for hits, and throwing beams from the outfield and busting rallies. He looked wispy and even frail at times. He ran fast, but it was sort of funny looking from where we sat. He was always playing hard and while you love that in a player you don’t like to see it against your team, so you boo it.

While I’m sure the Bleacher Creatures are no way in Ichiro’s head, I’m confident that if asked about that group and other rowdy Yankees fans he has encountered from the opposite sides of the fence, he would have a chuckle. But now it’s the foe becoming the friend, and it’s time to move on.

It only took about six minutes after the first tweets earmarking the deal had hit before the “He’d better not touch No. 51!” started flying about. While Bernie Williams’ number hasn’t been retired, Yankees fans continue to scare everyone else away from it. I’m not adverse to someone claiming the digits sometime in the future if the number isn’t retired (and Ichiro with his Hall of Fame resume surely would be deserving of the accolade), but this may simply be a two-month rental, and it’s not the time. It was interesting to watch the salvos going back and forth, and a longtime bleacher denizen and buddy of mine, Justin, tweeted “Future HOFer Ichiro Suzuki can’t have non-HOFer Bernie Williams’ number, so he gets HOFer Dave Winfield’s number instead. Got it.”

Another interesting crop of fans are the ones that dislike the deal. There are few who are ruminating on the loss of D.J. Mitchell or Danny Farquhar, but I’ve seen a lot of grumbling over the loss of DeWayne Wise. Look, I liked Wise in his own way, but I prefer taking a flyer on a player like Ichiro. Sometimes Yankee fans (myself included) like to complain just to complain. I was actually a D.J. Mitchell fan, griping that he was passed up for spot starts last year and was always behind Adam Warren in the pecking order.

For now, Ichiro is our friend. He will be greeted with cheers that immediately turn to jeers once the first pitch is thrown. He will get to come up with a way to acknowledge Roll Call, and get a groaner of a home run call concocted by Jolly John Sterling. And after the season is over, he will probably move on, and we can boo him again.

Blogs

Jul 19, 2012

Scorecard Memory: Grown Men Slapping Each Other, the ‘Gang Bang’ and Rusty Greer

Sheriff Tom goes back to April 12, 1996 in Section 39 of Yankee Stadium for a Yankees-Rangers game.

This is the first of 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. Let’s pick this up in 1996. You’re invited to join me. Please bring beer.

April 12, 1996: Yankees host the Texas Rangers. (My first game in ’96 and on a Friday night to boot!)

This year was huge. Obviously closing with a World Series win, but along the way we saw a no-hitter, the debut of some of your favorite Bleacher Creatures of lore, the passing of our beloved friend Ali the Cowbell King, vicious fights in the stands and all kinds of hubbub. To top it all off, in regards to scorecard fodder, my love affair with the beer bottle was seemingly at its zenith this year. Leafing through some of the cards without peeking too deeply at the jokes, I see a lot of scraggly, drunken scrawl and a lot of cards look beyond repair. But let’s get past that and kick this mother off!

I had big plans for ’96. On the top margin of this evening’s scorecard I confidently wrote “my first of 50+” however, as I type this, I’m not sure of my exact number of scorecards when it was all said and done, but I know I sailed through 50-plus games, and that was sans playoffs. On the other hand, I was far from midseason form coming in. I lost my voice early on during this evening game, actually before 8 p.m.! It was a frosty April night causing at least half-a-dozen people to walk up the stairs and crack the same joke, “Is it spring yet?” Heck of a time to recall this too, in the midst of a spate of heat waves here in New York, but in marking down the crisp nature of the evening air, I can understand the cynicism as to the missing spring.

I’m getting ahead of myself. Before the game there was a madcap slap-fight outside on the bleacher line when some drunkard decided to take a tinkle right there on the sidewalk and peed on another guy’s leg. The guy getting sprayed slapped him in the face like they were wearing pigtails in a playground and the peeing guy stopped what he was doing long enough to slap him back. They exchanged a flurry of slaps, much to the amusement of everyone on hand that managed to stay dry through the whole encounter. “Throw a punch, for Christ’s sake!” someone hollered. I turned to a crony as things were broken up and said, “That’s going down on the scorecard.”

Let me address the idea of the “bleacher line” as it may confuse some used to the bleachers of today. Back then we had a “GA” situation going on. (General admission seats! You could sit wherever you want!) The gates opened at a certain time and until then you snaked along the sidewalk, patiently. Well, except the guy who was too impatient to hold in his pee. Most of us did not yet have a ticket, so we queued up to grab one once the grumpy guys opened the windows. It was long a favorite tact of bleacher legend Gang Bang Steve (that’s him pregaming to the left of me in the picture above) to get to the window and ask fervently, “Can I have a seat right behind Bernie? It’s my first time in town and I’m a longtime fan!” The ticket guy would snarl, “It’s general admission, sit wherever you want,” and Steve would throw his arms up in the air in mock exasperation, blustering, “You don’t understand! He’s my favorite player ever! I just want a seat right behind him. It would mean a lot.” It was like a Laurel and Hardy routine. This would play out all the time, and Steve used to walk the line here and there asking others to pitch in and ask the guy for a seat “behind Bernie.” (No wonder the ticket guys were so grumpy.)

It was a surreal scene outside on this night, which was par for the course. There was even a licensed pretzel vendor proudly wearing a Red Sox cap. I remember a few brazen Yankee fans not only cursing at him, but also taunting him that they were going to get him fired. All the while these same guys were buying pretzels from him.

Ah, I see we touched upon current events, a consistent scorecard theme over the years. Anyone remember the seven-year-old girl that crashed the plane? At the time she had been attempting to be the youngest person to pilot a plan across the United States, and I was one of many who had been howling about how ridiculously dumb this idea was. I was soliciting jokes for the scorecard, pretty much asking, “Anyone have any jokes about the seven-year old that crashed the plane?” Thankfully, there were none.

Random crack written down on here from Tina (the revered “Queen of the Bleachers” to this very day and beyond) that simply says, “Sit down already! We know you’re Puerto Rican!” to some mope that kept standing up at any and all times, and I would assume holding a flag aloft to claim this lineage. Someone else promptly dubbed the offending stander-upper “El Sucko.” This “standing up for no reason” was inherited by a Panamanian long-timer, who still haunts the seats to this day, named Junior. He would stand up if someone pointed out a pretty cloud. Junior is also known to go on beer runs for the crew and return with the one beer we told him not to get, or crashing on the floor of my old Long Island City apartment back in the day, only to wake me up at 7 a.m. the following morning because he would be watching Matlock with the volume up too high.

In regards to special guests for this game that made the scorecard, there was a George Foreman look-alike, and a gigantic gawky woman we promptly dubbed Big Bird. There was a Jim Leyritz look-alike, too.

The legendary cowbell mix master Ali Ramirez showed up late enough to where it became a topic of discussion. Ali was the kind of guy whose absence could not go unnoticed, and sadly we lost him a month later. On this night he rang up the first cowbell at 7:25 for the 7:30 game, and even “shook his ass” for the crowd while he did it. For a while (until the number of jokes scrawled on the card became beyond too voluminous for mundane minutia) I used to keep such archaic notations as actual times of cowbell serenades, vaunted entrances of the notoriously late and random bursts of the litany of songs that added to the festive atmosphere back then. So if you wanted to know how many times Ali clacked his bell, and more importantly at exactly what time on a certain date, I inexplicably had this information.

Apparently there were a lot of “Chinese guys” out there as well causing me to muse how cool it would be if we could get a Chinese guy to sing the “Gang Bang” sometime. For the uninitiated, the “Gang Bang” was an early staple that had a run of quite a few years, surprisingly so given the general surliness of the security staff through the years. Here’s a video of Dr. Dirty John Valby for you to get the picture. Now take that picture and imagine that song being belted out nightly by dozens of rowdies in the bleacher seats. Better yet, here’s vintage footage of this very grandiose presentation with our own Gang Bang Steve leading a very raucous crowd through the bouncing ditty in Section 39 in 1996. (You can even spot yours truly, expertly multitasking as I can be seen scribbling away on my scorecard while lustily partaking in verse.)

In oddball bleacher trivia, this is how Gang Bang Steve came upon his moniker, as he was a noted ringleader for this caustic tune, although the air of mystery as to how he got his name always added to the frivolity when he would be introduced to people over the years. Eyebrows would raise when anyone was offered a handshake to someone introduced as “Gang Bang Steve” and many times I’d hear, “He sure doesn’t look like a swinger.” (The reaction upon introduction was a hit at my wedding.) Speaking of the “Gang Bang” song and the aforementioned Steve, I commented proudly on the card that Gang Bang Steve was back at my side, helping keep score and providing some of these very jokes. So blame him if you’re not entertained! One of the first things he did upon settling in for the night was draw the “Joey Cora infield” on the scorecard, including a first base line that takes a hard right and loop back towards first, in a nod to Cora’s getting away with running out of the baseline during that sickly playoff the year before.

Time for a story. For years Steve was entered into my cell phone simply as “Gang Bang.” This passed by without incident to a time where I was training at what was then my new job, sitting pretty much shoulder-to-shoulder with my new boss, who was teaching me some things on the computer. Well, my phone, just to right of the computer on the desk, started blinking that a call was coming in. It was on mute, so I was just going to let it go until I saw the words “Gang Bang” flashing on and off the screen. My boss never asked and I never told, but I know she saw it as it was directly in front of her, and human nature would surely make one wonder why someone’s phone would flash such a tawdry remark. She must have thought it was an appointment reminder. Add to this that only days before I had shown up for my first day at this new job with a black eye and my boss must have really been wondering what the hell was going on with me, and how I passed the background check.

Ah, back to the night’s affairs. One guy came up bedecked in a stunning array of bling, and I remarked that he “Looks like a real G.” This guy Chris promptly responded, “No, he looks like a real A.” He then added, “As in a–hole” though that was superfluous.

DING, DING! Looks like Gang Bang Steve got the first home-run ball of the year that was tagged out to the bleachers, and it came off the bat of none other than Ruben Sierra. I don’t know if it was on the fly or a series of bounces off empty seats as I was too busy marking times that Ali clanked on his bell to recount this admittedly more interesting factoid, but Steve got it and it’s mentioned multiple times on the card. I need to ask Steve if he still has that ball, though I’m sure he amassed quite a collection over the years from our drunken forays into the Stadium for BP. Ironically enough, just before Ruben’s jack, someone said (and I quote), “I want to see Ruben go yard!” and we laughed at the phrase “go yard.”

Not much more on here, which I suppose I shall attribute to the cold temps making writing not fun. We busted on a fellow fan ID’d as “Lee” for his “Little Rascals haircut.” We ripped into some Coneheads, the wacky crew with dunce caps on their head, who were back for more with David Cone on the mound. “School’s over, put the dunce cap away!” A “Dickheads! Dickheads!” chant sparked up as the Coneheads sat there with sad expressions at this vitriol. They wore out their welcome fast. I remember them being met with mostly apathy and tolerance in 1995, but by ‘96 their fellow fans had had enough of them, and Tina especially was on the warpath when it came to them. I guess our sort of exclusive pack were the only ones out there allowed to have nice stuff. The same thing befell the folks who would show up in “Moose” antlers when Mike Mussina would take the mound. They were not exactly “fan favorites.” To cap off the card I also mentioned we actually got to hear some Loverboy (one of my favorite old-school bands, bless them) over the Stadium PA. I suspect I was doing some air guitar, too, and hopefully others joined in.

Some interesting names from the past on here include our elderly and mysterious friend “Godfather” (who used to skulk around in the old days putting the “voodoo” on Yankee foes) and on this night he muttered, “He’s doing bad, take him out,” as John Wetteland was imploding in the ninth. We let Angel, the ex-girlfriend of the previously mentioned George (Big Nose/Little Drummer Boy), keep score for an inning somewhere on here. She was well known for once gazing at Cal Ripken Jr. out at short with a long-sleeved black sweatshirt on under his jersey and saying in a confused manner, “I didn’t realize Cal Ripken Jr. was black?” Tina, who was considered more of a strict boss back then than the honored elder she is these days (much more on her to come), had one of her patented temper tantrums at 9:25, but sadly the reason for this particular outburst is lost to history.

For the record, the first “MO” of the season (Mystery Out, of course) was hung on Joe Girardi, during his at-bat in the sixth. (I can and will do a separate column on the wonders, and the astounding frequency, of the infamous “Mystery Out.”) The “Mystery Out” was another longtime friend in the bleachers that never left and one we would visit time and time again. I’m happy that Phil Rizzuto shared this same propensity on his own scorecards, although he earmarked his missed plays as “WW” for “Wasn’t Watching.”

Always like to see this: I noted that Yankees history was made on this same day, as the team signed Juan Rivera to a contract as a non-drafted free agent.

As for the game action, the Yankees took this one 4-3 behind a strong performance by David Cone (one run, unearned, in seven innings) and solid setup work by new Yankee and former foe Jeff Nelson, who recently enjoyed a visit to the bleachers, where he sat for nearly eight innings with the modern crop of Creatures. I like to think he would have had more fun back in ‘96 when we were allowed to carry on without the shackles of security, but cheers to him for the gesture and nod to the merry. Wetteland almost coughed it up in the ninth – a recurring prospect – getting tagged for a deuce, but escaped with his first save of the season, albeit amidst some grumbling from the crowd. That relic Ken Hill took the loss for the Rangers, and we got to see none other than the likes of Dennis Cook and Matt Whiteside also toe the rubber for Texas.

The Yankees only mustered six hits on the night with two off the bat of Sierra, who homered and plated two runs. Your Yankees lineup was:

1. Wade Boggs, 3B
2. Mariano Duncan, SS
3. Paul O’Neill, RF
4. Ruben Sierra, DH
5. Tino Martinez, 1B (Welcome!)
6. Bernie Williams, CF
7. Dion James, LF (He was still here?)
8. Joe Girardi, C
9. Derek Jeter, SS

The Rangers countered with:

1. Darryl Hamilton, CF
2. Pudge Rodriguez, C
3. Will Clark, 1B (Just this week he was being touted for the freakin’ Hall of Fame by some delusional fan online)
4. Juan Gonzalez, RF
5. Mickey Tettleton, DH (We deemed him a racist for putting up a “KKK” line on the scorecard with three whiffs)
6. Dean Palmer, 3B
7. Rusty Greer, LF
8. Mark McLemore, 2B
9. Kevin Elster, SS (LOL)

The Rangers only managed five hits with Palmer nabbing two of them, including a mighty clack off of Wetteland to scare us in the ninth.

How about a quick profile? I always enjoyed doing these to add to the shine of those old days. (Fear not, I’ll keep it brief.) Rusty Greer it is!

Greer was quite the gamer, and he’s looked upon fondly. He stuck around Texas from 1994-2002, getting out of there with a .305 lifetime batting average. In 1,027 games (3,829 at-bats) he knocked 119 taters and drove in 614. His aggressive play could never be credited for art of speed, as he managed only 31 stolen bases in his nine years, while being nailed 15 times. He walked almost as many times as he struck out (555 strikeouts, 519 walks), which is an admirable feat in itself, but he was a better player than I gave him credit for. Well, come to think of it, his estimated salary data has him pulling in nearly $40 million over his career, so he made his bones. In ‘96 and ‘97 he batted .332 and .321 respectively, so we saw him here in a flourish. Born in 1969, he was originally a 10^th-round pick in the 1990 draft and the only player ever drafted out of the University of Montevallo in Alabama in his native state. As of July 17, 2012, his monumental page on Baseball-Reference has been viewed 30,582 times, which sounds shamefully low to me. His passion for the game and his firebrand style of play is sorely missed!

Only 20,238 were on hand for my first Friday night game of the year in the cold, and the game took 2:51 to play, so at least we got out of there in reasonable fashion, (most likely to drink the night away). Thank you, Red Sox, for not being in town, and getting us out of there before 11:30. Your umpires on hand were none other than Dale Scott, Rocky Roe, the late and lamented Durwood Merrill and Gary Cederstrom.

Welcome to 1996. Please enjoy your stay.

Blogs • The Joe Girardi Show • Yankees

Jul 16, 2012

The Joe Girardi Show: Season 3, Episode 2

The Joe Girardi Show returns for another episode after the manager’s questionable decisions in the Yankees’ loss to the Angels on Sunday.

Did you think my version of The Joe Girardi Show got canceled for no reason like How to Make It in America? I know there hasn’t been an episode of the show since April 9 following the Tragedy at the Trop to open the season, but that’s because Girardi’s questionable decision making has been spread out. It’s been a while since Girardi has made several decisions that were puzzling before they inevitably backfired in a game the Yankees lost, but had a chance to win.

I know the Yankees have the best record in baseball and lead the AL East by eight games and I have nothing to complain about, but when a series of poor choices are made in one game, I feel the need to address it.

On Sunday the Yankees lost a game in which they scored eight runs in a game started by Jered Weaver. And while Ivan Nova wasn’t exactly good (6 IP, 9 H, 6 R, 6 ER, 2 BB, 3 K, 3 HR) … OK he sucked … the Yankees had opportunities to build on their early 3-2 lead and even come back from trailing in the late innings. However their comeback would fall short and turn out to just be “Yankees blue balls” thanks to Girardi’s managing throughout the game, which made Kevin Gilbride’s third-down playcalling for the Giants look brilliant.

So after Sunday’s debacle, and despite a series win and all that best record stuff, I thought it was necessary to fill in for Michael Kay on my version of The Joe Girardi Show for the second episode this season and ask Girardi why he made the decisions he made.

What the eff happened on the bases in the third inning?
Here’s the situation: The Yankees have a 3-2 lead in the bottom of the third inning. With one out, A-Rod singles and Robinson Cano follows that up with a single and A-Rod goes to third. It’s first and third with one out and Mark Teixeira at the plate.

Here’s what Teixeira had done in his last eight games entering Sunday: 10-for-30 (.333), 2 2B, 1 3B, 4 HR, 15 RBIs, 5 BB, .429 OBP, .867 SLG. In case you weren’t aware, it’s the second half of the season. The All-Star break is over. It’s Teixeira’s time (well, until October). The time of the year when he takes what looks to be the worst statistical season of his career and ends up matching the numbers on the back of his baseball card. Isn’t that right, Michael Kay?

In case you also weren’t aware, Robinson Cano is not a base stealer. Hell, he isn’t even a good base runner. There is this idea around the league (and apparently with the Yankees too) that Cano has speed, but he’s probably the slowest Yankee of the last decade not named Jorge Posada, Jose Molina or Sal Fasano. Yet a couple times a year Cano will get caught stealing at an inopportune time and for some reason opposing pitchers keep throwing over to first thinking he might run. (Cano is 29-for-56 on stolen-base attempts in seven-plus this seasons.)

So you have possibly the hottest hitter in the league at the plate with two on and one out against an elite pitcher who came into the game with an ERA of 1.96, but has already allow three runs and seven hits in just 2 1/3 innings. You would think that you would want your No. 5 hitter to swing the bat in this situation. But what happens? Cano breaks for second and gets picked off. While in a rundown, A-Rod (who actually is a good baserunner) hesitates and breaks late. Erick Aybar tags Cano out and then throws home where A-Rod is out. Yes, a double play on the bases without the ball even being hit.

(Let’s remember for a second that in the past Curtis Granderson, who can actually steal bases, has been held from running, with Mark Teixeira at the plate (when Teixeira is cold) because Girardi has said he doesn’t want to take the bat out of Teixeira’s hands. But when it’s Robinson Cano on first and Teixeira is the hottest he’s been as a Yankee? No big deal!)

Why is Russell Martin bunting in the fifth inning?
I’m not going to talk about Russell Martin bunting for a base hit in the second inning (which ended up serving the same purpose as a sacrifice, but wasn’t scored a sacrifice) because I have to pick my battles and my battle here is why is Russell Martin bunting in the fifth inning?

Here’s the situation: The Yankees lead 3-2 in the bottom of the fifth inning. Eric Chavez leads off the inning with a single. Russell Martin is at the plate.

I don’t think I need to explain why the situation I just presented screams, “Don’t bunt! Don’t do it! Please, don’t do it! Don’t look down at third for the sign! Rob Thomson is going to tell you to bunt! Don’t look at him! Don’t do it!” But I will anyway.

The Yankees already have the lead in the game. It’s the fifth inning of an American League game at Yankee Stadium. Why would you play for one insurance run with still four-plus innings of baseball left?

If you don’t know what happened, I bet you’re thinking that Martin bunted it right back to the pitcher and he threw the lead runner out at second. I wish that happened. Instead, Martin popped up the first pitch to Weaver, who threw to first with Chavez off the bag for a double play. Ah, the second unnecessary double play made by the Yankees in less than five innings. But what’s giving away 1 1/3 innings of outs anyway? No big deal!

(On another Girardi decision from the weekend … Why didn’t Russell Martin play on Saturday? Yes, it was a day game after a night game, but Martin had just played his best game of the season on Friday night and had four full days of rest prior to Friday. The Yankees won on Saturday and the move didn’t impact the game, but if you’re trying to get Martin on track for the second half, why isn’t he playing after the offensive and defensive job he did on Friday night?)

Why Chad Qualls in the eighth inning? Why? Actually, why Chad Qualls ever? Whyyyyyyyyyyyy?
I like to imagine a Relievers Anonymous support group where all of the failed Yankees relievers meet at a community center or church or middle school cafeteria and Paul Quantrill serves as the group leader. I see Jose Veras there and Tanyon Sturtze and Sean Henn, Edwar Ramirez and Chan Ho Park. Chad Gaudin and Sergio Mitre are sitting next to each other and next to them are Brian Bruney and Scott Proctor. I can picture Quantrill getting everyone back to their seat from the refreshment table and telling Jonathan Albaladejo he can continue to share his stories from Japan after the session is over.

Quantrill gets everyone to quiet down to introduce the newest member of the group: Chad Qualls. Chad stands up and shyly proclaims, “Hi, my name is Chad, and I suck at pitching.” And led by Quantrill, everyone awkwardly responds, “Hi, Chad.” Qualls then goes on to tell about his career and how despite being on six teams in nine years and having a 5.14 ERA and 1.506 WHIP since the start of 2010, the $200 million Yankees still managed to pick him up.

Here’s the situation: After blowing the 3-2 lead in the sixth by allowing three runs, Girardi lets Nova start the seventh after Granderson homers to make it 5-4 Angels. Nova gives up a double and a single and it’s first and third with no one out. Girardi now decides it’s a good time to take out Nova, and he brings in Chad Qualls with the Yankees trailing 5-3 and Albert Pujols due up. Qualls gets Pujols to ground into a double play, but the run scores. Qualls gives up another hit, but gets out of the inning with the Angels up 6-4.

In the bottom of the seventh, Chavez homers to cut the Angels’ lead to 6-5. I hate to go all John Sterling Talking Baseball Like He’s Talking to Elementary School Children on you, but if the Yankees can hold the Angels, they will have two innings and six outs left to score one run and tie the game. But first the Yankees’ bullpen MUST HOLD the Angels scoreless. So here comes Chad Qualls out for the eighth inning.

With one out, Maicer Izturis walks. Peter Bourjos follows that with a bunt single. A wild pitch moves Izturis to third. Bobby Wilson singles to score Izturis and Bourjos goes to third. Mike Trout doubles to score Bourjos and Wilson goes to third. The Angels now lead 8-5 with one out and the middle of their order coming up. Qualls faces eight hitters and five of them reach base, and three of them score … in 1 1/3 innings.

Where was Boone Logan to start the eighth inning? (Yes, we’re at the point where I want Boone Logan in games.) Oh, that’s right. Logan came in to get the last two outs of the eighth after Qualls let a 6-5 game turn into a 9-5 game. So if Logan was available to pitch and was going to pitch anyway, why was he not used until the game was out of hand? Why wasn’t he out there to start a clean inning?

Qualls should be pitching in games that are over. He shouldn’t be the reason games become over, and he shouldn’t be pitching in high-leverage situations. Really, he shouldn’t be on the Yankees or probably in the league as a whole.

When I found out the Yankees signed Qualls I tweeted that “I hate Chad Qualls.” This meant that he could turn into a dominating force (though unlikely) and I would have already put it out there that I hate him, but I didn’t care. I didn’t give him a chance because I didn’t need to give him a chance. When Brian Cashman signed Qualls he 100-percent knew that at some point he would be designating him for assignment because there was a 100-percent chance Qualls would give him a reason to DFA him. So why pick him up in the first place?

When Qualls came into the game on Sunday, David Cone said he was “surprised that the Yankees were able to steal Chad Qualls off the scrap heap.” There’s a reason for that, and there’s a reason another team will have a chance to “steal” him from the scrap heap in the coming weeks.