Somehow Stephen Drew is still a Yankee. To recognize his improbable roster spot, here’s a conversation on Facebook.
Today is August 18 and Stephen Drew is still a Yankee. I’m not sure why and I’m not sure how, but he is.
I decided to make a fake Facebook conversation with Drew announcing to his teammates that he could be designated for assignment any day now in hopes that he actually will be. (I have been waiting for him to be DFA’d since the day Brian Cashman inexplicably signed him to a one-year, $5 million deal.) Here it is.
If I had caught A-Rod’s 3,000th hit, I would have returned it. Why? Because what am I going to do with A-Rod’s 3,000th hit? Put it on my mantle as if it’s my 3,000th hit?
I was fortunate to be at Yankee Stadium on Aug. 4, 2007 for Alex Rodriguez’s 500th home run, at Yankees Stadium on Aug. 4, 2010 for his 600th home run, at Fenway Park on May 1, 2015 for his 660th home run and at Yankee Stadium on May 7, 2015 for his 661st home run. So when I decided to not go to the Stadium on Friday night with A-Rod’s next chance at reaching 3,000 career hits, I watched from home for history to be made.
A-Rod’s first-inning solo home run off Justin Verlander made him the 28th player in baseball history with 3,000 hits, doing it in the best way possible, the way Derek Jeter did nearly four years ago. But looking back on the moment, A-Rod would have been better off with a seeing-eye single between short and third or a broken-bat bloop over the the first baseman’s head or a swinging bunt down the the third-base line because hitting a home run where A-Rod hit it was the worst imaginable result.
If I had caught A-Rod’s 3,000th hit, I would have returned it. Why? Because what am I going to do with A-Rod’s 3,000th hit? Put it on my mantle as if it’s my 3,000th hit? Show off A-Rod’s ball like I achieved something by being lucky enough to have it land in my hands? I would return it to A-Rod, after shaking the legend’s hand and asking him to join my Central Park Softball League team upon retirement. But before that I would hand over a list of demands to the Yankees front office:
1. I want to take batting practice with the team at the next home game, shag fly balls and throw a bullpen session. I would take jersey number 86 (Sidney Crosby/Patrick Kane style) since all of the single-digit numbers are retired and Masahiro Tanaka wears 19.
2. I want Legends season tickets. Yes, I love and enjoy sitting in 203, but sitting between the bases for free every game would be more enjoyable.
3. I want a night of beer and baseball storytelling with Ken Singleton, David Cone and Paul O’Neill.
4. I want Stephen Drew designated for assignment. The Yankees have proved they aren’t going to go with my plan of moving Drew back to shortstop, playing either Jose Pirela or Rob Refsnyder at second and benching Didi Gregorius, so the only move is to DFA Drew.
5. I want to trade Nathan Eovaldi and Garrett Jones back to the Marlins for David Phelps and Martin Prado.
Those would be my demands, and once they are met, then I would gladly give A-Rod his ball. If he wants to throw some cash my way, or let me join his entourage (which would likely be just me), I wouldn’t say no. But unfortunately, for me, and more unfortunately for A-Rod and the Yankees, I didn’t catch A-Rod’s 3,000th hit.
Of all the people in the world, Zack Hample (known as “Foul Ball Guy”) would be everyone’s last pick to catch a meaningful home run. A 37-year-old baseball collector, who still brings his glove to games, has made a life out of catching and collecting everything from batting practice balls to foul balls to balls ticketed for a kid’s hands that he has stepped in front of and taken. So of course A-Rod’s 3,000th hit would be a home run and of course out of all the hands it could have landed in at Yankee Stadium, it landed in Hample’s, who was supposedly in the wrong seats, waiting there with his glove like a Little Leaguer taking in big league action, all while wearing a hat with the MLB logo on it.
Hample has said he has no plans to give the ball to A-Rod, because in his words, “It’s kind of like, well, I don’t like you and I have something you want and you can’t have it. I wanted you to not take steroids and be the greatest of all time and you disappointed me.”
Those are real-life words from Hample, who apparently has the mentality of so many nerd beat writers and reporters that feel lied to and disrespected because a baseball player and entertainer that they don’t know outside of asking him questions with a microphone in his face used performance-enhancing drugs. Hample, like those with Hall of Fame vote, feel as though A-Rod owed it to them (as if he owes them anything) to not make the choices in his baseball career he has made, which is an opinion so insane I can’t even wrap my head around it. How dare a baseball player who once signed a 10-year, $252 million contract and opted out of it to sign a 10-year, $275 million contract let everyone down. We should all expect more out of someone who made $197,530.86 per game for two years (2009 and 2010) to play baseball.
Now Hample is doing every TV and radio interview he can, thinking he is the celebrity in the situation and believing he is the one who achieved 3,000 hits with an opposite-field home run rather than a grown man wearing a glove at an MLB game, who happened to be in the right place (which was actually the wrong place for his ticket stub) at the right time. So the “baseball collector” who is holding A-Rod’s 3,000th hit hostage for either very strange (he’s 37 and collects baseballs), very odd (he thinks A-Rod should have not disappointed him personally) or very scummy (he wants a payday from the Yankees since collecting baseballs probably isn’t keeping the power on) reasons.
Maybe Hample will continue to use someone else’s personal achievement as his own crowning moment or maybe he will ultimately decide to return it to A-Rod and the Yankees once their price tag grows high enough for him. Either way, now on it’s third day, this charade has gone on for too long and Hample is the one everyone should be disappointed in.
This weekend we got 37 innings and 13 hours and 26 minutes of baseball and also a 16-minute delay for a power outage and some sloppy and embarrassing play from the Yankees.
There’s nothing like a Yankees-Red Sox series. Even if that series comes in Games 4, 5 and 6 of the season and even if that series features pitching matchups of Nathan Eovaldi-Wade Miley, Adam Warren-Joe Kelly and Mashahiro Tanaka-Clay Buchholz.
The rivalry isn’t what it once was and the current rosters reflect that, but even when the seasons and personnel change, the games remain the same. This weekend we got 37 innings and 13 hours and 26 minutes of baseball and also a 16-minute delay for a power outage.
I decided to go to the diary format that I used for a Yankees-Red Sox series back in July 2012 and a Yankees-Red Sox series back in July 2013 for this past weekend. Just pretend like you’re reading this in one of those black-and-white Mead composition notebooks.
FRIDAY
The Yankees’ Twitter account jumped the gun a little by calling Nathan Eovaldi “Nasty Nate” before ever throwing a pitch on Friday night, and therefore, never having thrown a pitch for the Yankees to that point. Eovaldi ended up lasting 5 1/3 innings, allowed eight hits and three earned runs and striking out just one despite hitting a reported 101 mph on the radar gun, according to YES. A Mets fan friend of mine told me to be nervous that Eovaldi might be the next Mike Pelfrey as a hard-throwing righty that can’t strike anyone out and I dismissed that claim, but now I’m nervous it could be true.
The Yankees once again had one hit through five innings, so I think Joe Girardi made the right decision giving some regulars a day off after an off day on Tuesday and after having October, November, December, January, February and most of March off.
The Red Sox’ might have the best lineup in the AL East and the entire league, but their starting pitching is mediocre and their bullpen is terrible. I’m not sure how so many people can be sold on a team that doesn’t have a pitching staff looking for bounceback seasons or a pitching staff looking to stay healthy, but rather just a pitching staff that is really bad. Red Sox closer Edward Mujica proved he isn’t exactly Koji Uehara, or at least 2013 Koji Uehara, after allowing a two-out home run to Chase Headley in the bottom of the ninth to tie the game before 10 more innings of hard-to-watch baseball. Michael Kay had to go and ruin the moment by saying, “Holy Cow!” as a tribute to Phil Rizzuto in the Yankees’ return to PIX11 and it was as bad as Melissa McCarthy doing Matt Foley on the Saturday Night Live 40th Anniversary Show.
The game lasted 19 innings and there were 578 of pitches thrown and up until the last pitch I still had no idea what home-plate umpire Marty Foster was going to call on each pitch. Throughout extra innings, I kept offering Stephen Drew “Ladies and gentlemen” immunity if he could hit a walk-off home run or even just get a hit, but those thing never came. David Cone described a Stephen Drew foul ball as “probably one of the better swings we’ve seen Drew take.” A foul ball.
All Brian Cashman did this offseason (aside from berate the Yankees’ best player in A-Rod) is tell us how good of a defensive shortshop Didi Gregorius is. And so far, Gregorius has yet to make a play that Derek Jeter wouldn’t have made at 40 and hasn’t done anything with his glove to justify his embarrassing offensive start.
If the Yankees hadn’t decided that it would be a good idea to play second baseman Jose Pirela in center field in a spring training game, in which he got a concussion, then he would be on the Yankees right now and not Gregorio Petit. But playing a future everyday player for your team out of position makes a lot of sense, especially when Reggie Jackson called that player the best hitter in the organization. In 2013, Travis Ishikawa played one game for the Yankees and had two at-bats: a four-pitch strikeout and a three-pitch strikeout. The following year, he won the World Series with the Giants as their starting left fielder. I fully expect Petit to win the World Series somewhere next year.
I’m not sure why Brett Gardner can’t steal bases and I’m not sure how he got picked off by a right-handed knuckleball pitcher or why he was unable to steal against a knuckeball pitcher two different times. I’m also not sure why Jacoby Ellsbury was unable to steal against a knuckleball pitcher.
I don’t get the Yankees’ infatuation with Esmil Rogers. He’s 29 (will be 30 this season) and entered the game with a 5.52 career ERA. Who cares that he throws hard? You know who else throws hard? Nearly every pitcher in the majors and the minors. Find someone else to do his job because he can’t do it.
SATURDAY
This time it was one hit through seven innings for the Yankees. One hit against Joe Kelly. Cone said the Yankees “could tip their hat” to Kelly, which was an awful cop-out for a team that is full of excuses and doesn’t need any more opportunities to give them.
A three-error game for the Yankees to keep their games-with-an-error streak alive at five straight to open the season and bring the season total to 8. Brian Cashman told Mike Francesa on Friday that Rob Refsnyder could play in the majors right now, but that his defense isn’t there yet. If Refsnyder can give this team any additional offense, who cares about his defense? The rest of the team’s defense isn’t good, so why are we worried about the defense of someone who can actually hit?
Brock Holt getting credited with a three-run double that Garrett Jones dropped is an atrocity. Between Brett Gardner falling down in the second inning in left field and Jones not being able to catch a fly ball as a major leaguer is the 2015 Yankees. Forget “Our history. Your tradition.” or “Pride. Power. Pinstripes.” or whatever ridiculous slogan the Yankees try to sell. Let’s go with “Strikeouts. Errors. Pickoffs. Left on base.” for 2015.
SUNDAY
A must-win game in the sixth game of the season. The Yankees couldn’t afford to fall to 1-5 and head to Baltimore where they could easily lose another series or possibly be swept and be starting at a 2-7 or 1-8 record with trips to Tampa Bay and Detroit still go.
When I saw the lineup posted with A-Rod hitting sixth behind Carlos Beltran, Mark Teixeira and Brian McCann I almost threw up. How is the best hitter on the team, entering the game 5-for-18, hitting behind three hitters who have gone 2-for-20, 3-for-16 and 3-for-13?
A-Rod proved once again he is the best hitter on the team and should be the No. 3 hitter with a three-run double in the first inning to break the game open. But Joe Girardi should keep hitting him sixth because that makes a lot of sense.
Of course Beltran went 2-for-4 against the Red Sox’ embarrassing bullpen to bring his average up to .167 (.167! Woo!) since that will be good enough for Girardi to think 38-year-old Carlos “Going Through the Motions” Beltran should continue to be the team’s No. 3 hitter.
Even Stephen Drew hit a home run in the Yankees’ seven-run first inning for the fastest Yankees win over the Red Sox. It doesn’t change the fact that I want him off the team as soon as possible, but it was nice to see that his best swings don’t just result in foul balls.
It was a bad week, actually it was the worst possible week, but it ended well. The bad news is the Yankees are 2-4 and about to start a 10-game road trip. The good news is the hitting and defense can’t get any worse than it has been. At least I don’t think it can.
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 10th-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.
The Season 4 finale of The Office has one of my favorite scenes in the show’s history. That scene is when Toby leaves the office for Costa Rica and Michael’s bids him farewell by singing
The Season 4 finale of The Office has one of my favorite scenes in the show’s history. That scene is when Toby leaves the office for Costa Rica and Michael’s bids him farewell by singing Supertramp’s “Goodbye Stranger” with the new title “Goodbye Toby” and new lyrics tailored to Toby.
I have always envisioned myself singing the song with the title changed to “Goodbye A.J.” on the steps of Babe Ruth Plaza before a night game at the Stadium with Yankees fans crowded around singing and celebrating the trade or release of A.J. Burnett. Burnett is no longer a Yankee, but it’s the middle of February and there are no games to be played at the Stadium until April, so it doesn’t make a lot of sense to rent a backup band and belt out my own rendition of Supertramp’s hit in the Bronx.
I have written for WFAN.com since Feb. 1, 2010 and I have written more words about A.J. Burnett than anyone other sports figure. (Type “Neil Keefe A.J. Burnett” into Google if you think I’m kidding.) I have dedicated entire columns to him, made a system for measuring his starts and grading his performances, referenced him in columns about the Rangers and joked about him in columns about the Giants. I have used his name in every possible way and want to thank him for the countless material and also for Game 2 of the 2009 World Series. Since there won’t be a performance in Babe Ruth Plaza, I decided the next best thing was to go back through all of my columns about A.J. Burnett over the last two years and share some of my favorite moments from my columns about him.
April 7, 2010
Watching A.J. Burnett pitch is harder to watch than the scene in Casino where Nicky Santoro (Joe Pesci) and his brother Dominick are beaten within an inch of their lives by baseball bats and then buried alive. Sure it’s only one start, but it’s not like we didn’t also see this last year. Burnett is either going to come within reach of a no-no or have a start that includes that one letdown inning. On Tuesday, he had the latter and the letdown inning was the fifth.
June 22, 2010
This time I decided to take what I have learned about A.J. Burnett since he became a Yankee and take it out a step further. I think its necessary that we have a unit of measurement for Burnett’s starts and a way to categorize his many meltdowns and losses. So like the Richter scale, here is a way to measure another type of natural disaster: A.J. Burnett meltdowns.
Grade 1
Example: June 10 vs. Baltimore
Getting through the first inning with A.J. Burnett is key. If you can get through the first, there’s a chance he will be able to get you through a lot more. A.J. is usually good for allowing at least one run before the Yankees have time to get on the board, but if he can hold the opposition scoreless so the Yankees can take an early lead, you’re in good shape. The problem is you aren’t out of the water yet since there isn’t a lead that is safe with A.J. on the hill.
The meltdown usually starts once the Yankees have given him a lead and he feels it necessary to give it right back. Andy Pettitte did a lot of this in the second half of 2008 before we later found out that he was injured. A.J. Burnett might be the only pitcher that I don’t feel confident with getting out of an inning unscathed with two outs and no one on. Once he gets those first two outs, things can unfold pretty quickly. And when they do, you can no longer control a Grade 1 implosion from becoming …
Grade 2
Example: April 23 vs. Angels
If AJ doesn’t come with his best stuff (which he never does anymore), then there is without a doubt going to be an inning where he allows at least a three spot.
Most starters prepare for games with the mindset that they are going to go out and win the game for their team. A.J. goes out with the idea that he is going to throw a perfect game. The only problem is that after that first walk, he starts to think, “OK, the no-hitter is still intact.” Then after that first hit, he thinks “Well, now I am just going to strike out every hitter.” It’s this mentality that gets A.J. Burnett in trouble. Instead of pitching the way he finally learned how to under Roy Halladay at the end of his Toronto days, A.J. becomes the oft-injured pitcher he was in Florida, trying to knock down the catcher with his fastball like Steve Nebraska.
A.J. Burnett isn’t capable of limiting damage and working through men on base the way Andy Pettitte has made a career of doing, and he isn’t capable of working through a game without his best stuff the way CC Sabathia can grind through a start. It’s all or nothing with A.J. Burnett and when it’s nothing, it turns into this …
Grade 3
Examples: May 9 vs. Red Sox and June 21 vs. Diamondbacks
This is what we saw on Monday and what we have seen for most of June. It’s like an uncontrollable California forest fire. You think A.J. has had his bad inning for the night and that he will enter cruise control, only to have the game unravel in a matter of pitches (on Monday night it took 15) and once that second crooked number starts to take shape, there is no stopping it until he is removed from the game. The only problem with that is that the game is out of hand by this point and likely out of reach for the offense, so the “loser” relievers (I call them this because they only pitch when the Yankees are losing and also happens to be prime examples of the word) like Chad Gaudin and Boone Logan and Chan Ho Park start to get loose in the ‘pen.
The entire scene is enough to make you think about picking up your remote control and throwing a two-seamer right through the TV screen, or at the very least it’s enough to make you make yourself a strong cocktail.
September 1, 2010
“Great stuff” is a tag that has become synonymous with hard throwing pitchers that have no control and really just throw since they don’t know how to actually pitch. If some recent call-up is facing the Yankees and is throwing in the high 90s, but walks the first two hitters he faces, you can bet your life that John Flaherty will talk about the pitcher’s “great stuff” when he breaks down the pitch-by-pitch sequence. That’s right, the pitcher that just walked the first two hitters of the inning on eight pitches has “great stuff!”
How many times have you heard someone say A.J. Burnett has “great stuff?” Listen to Michael Kay or John Sterling call a game, or listen to sports radio or talk to a random Yankees fan about Burnett and the phrase will come up. And when A.J. starts an uncontrollable forest fire in the third of fourth inning of one of his starts when it seems like he might never record another out, Kay or whoever has the play-by-play duties for the game (or John Sterling if you are listening on the radio) will start to wonder out loud what is wrong with A.J.
“He throws so hard and has such great stuff — some of the best stuff in the league. It just doesn’t make any sense why he struggles the way he does.”
It actually makes perfect sense as to why A.J. Burnett has the problems he has. It’s because he doesn’t have “great stuff.” Roy Halladay has great stuff. Felix Hernandez has great stuff. CC Sabathia has great stuff. Josh Johnson has great stuff. A.J. Burnett has average stuff.
Yes, A.J. Burnett throws hard and yes, he has a breaking ball that can buckle someone’s knees like a Ronnie one-punch, but that doesn’t make his stuff “great.” Being able to control your stuff and being able to dominate on a consistent basis and grind through a start when you aren’t at your best is what makes someone’s stuff “great.” Leaving the game in the fourth inning with the bases loaded and one out and burning the bullpen in the first game of a three-game series with your team not having an off-day for another 12 days for some reason to me just shouldn’t be classified as having “great stuff.”
October 1, 2010
I thought A.J Burnett could be good down the stretch (well, maybe it was more of hope). I thought he could turn around what has been the worst season of any Yankee pitcher since David Cone when 4-14 in 2000. I said I wouldn’t say anything negative about him for the rest of the season. I gave him a chance, but he took the mound in Toronto with his ALDS roster spot on the line and gave the Blue Jays a chance to pad their 2010 stats in the final week of the season. So like Stevie Janowski once said, “I have tried to be your friend, but you will not listen to me, so you invited this monster.”
It’s obvious at this point that A.J. Burnett is in denial about his abilities. Maybe it’s because everyone around him tells him he has “great stuff” like delusional parents telling their kid that they are the best despite the truth. Since June 1, Burnett has made 21 starts and has won four of them. He’s 4-13 over that time with a 6.67 ERA, and is now 23-24 with a 4.64 ERA in 65 starts as a Yankee. If I’m Joe Girardi and I’m managing for a championship and for a hefty contract this offseason, the last person I want deciding my salary for the next few years is a pitcher who found a way to lose at least 15 games for a 94-plus win team.
Here is Burnett’s line from Monday night’s loss:
2.1 IP, 7 H, 7 R, 7 ER, 1 BB, 1K, 2 HR
Now, here is a quote from Burnett following that pitching line:
“Joe’s going to make a decision on his own. I don’t have anything to prove. He saw what I did last year in the postseason. Everybody always says that the season doesn’t matter here and the postseason does. He makes the decisions and I want the ball whenever he gives it to me.”
Does that sound like a pitcher who lost for the seventh time in 11 starts and who has just one win since September 28th? That’s right, one win in 65 days. Give him the ball, Joe!
What’s even more puzzling than Burnett thinking that losing in the regular season at $500,000 a start, are the words he chose to describe his current state of mind.
“I don’t have anything to prove. He saw what I did last year in the postseason.”
Yes, A.J. Burnett won Game 2 of the World Series, and it was a must-win game for the Yankees. But let’s not forget he started four other games in the postseason and either lost or earned no decisions. Not to mention his meltdowns in two potential clinchers (Game 5 of the ALCS and Game 5 of the World Series).
Here is Burnett’s line from Game 5 of the ALCS:
6 IP, 8 H, 6 R, 6 ER, 3 BB, 3 K
And here is his line from Game 5 of the World Series, a game in which the first four Phillies reached base and had a 3-0 lead before Burnett recorded an out:
2 IP, 4 H, 6 R, 6 ER, 4 BB, 2K, 1 HR
And in case you forgot, here is how Game 5 went down for Burnett, batter by batter:
First inning: Single, hit by pitch, home run, walk, strikeout, groundout, groundout
Second inning: Strikeout, groundout, walk, pop-out
Fourth inning: Walk, walk, single, single
So, yeah we all saw what you did in the postseason last year.
October 19, 2010
Let’s forget the No. 1 reason why A.J. Burnett shouldn’t start Game 4, which is because he isn’t consistent, trustworthy or reliable (that’s the nice way of saying he isn’t a good pitcher). If those miserable qualities aren’t enough to make you change your mind about who should start Game 4, consider the elephant in the room that not one person ever mentions or talks about: Joe Girardi has no idea how to handle A.J. Burnett.
I’m not saying Girardi doesn’t know how to make Burnett a good pitcher because after 12 years and three teams in the majors, it’s clear that no one does. Let’s not pretend like Burnett has only been bad as a Yankee because, truthfully, he was never very good. The Yankees paid $82.5 million for an 87-76 pitcher because they missed the playoffs the year before and because Burnett was 3-1 with a 1.64 ERA against the Yankees in 2008. They didn’t get him for his postseason pedigree and October experience since he had never pitched in the postseason before 2009, and they certainly didn’t get him for his résumé, which aside from a nine-walk no hitter in 2001, included nothing worth giving him $16.5 million a year.
So, no I’m not saying it’s Girardi’s fault that Burnett lost 15 games on a 95-win team, what I’m saying is that the problem with Girardi and his utilization of Burnett is that he has no idea when to pull the plug on him or when to keep him plugged in. Take for instance what Girardi did on Monday night in Game 3: Trailing 2-0 and with Cliff Lee close to being finished for the night, it looked like Joe Girardi wanted to keep the Rangers right there hoping that the Yankees could come back against the Rangers bullpen. So, Joe had Kerry Wood pitch the eighth, which would only mean that Mariano Rivera would pitch the ninth (since Joe was using his primary setup man) since he had pitched just one inning in nine days. But to start the ninth, Girardi went with Boone Logan who allowed a leadoff single to Josh Hamilton. Then he brought in David Robertson who faced seven batters and retired just one of them. Sergio Mitre relived Robertson and at the end of the inning the Rangers’ lead went from 2-0 to 8-0, and the game was over. Why did Girardi save Mariano Rivera? He saved him because he managed for Game 4 during Game 3. The same manager who told the media following Game 2 that, “If we worry about Game 4 before Game 3, we are going to be in trouble.” And that’s exactly what he did and now the Yankees are in trouble.
What does Girardi’s handling of the bullpen in Game 3 have to do with Girardi’s handling of A.J. Burnett? Everything! Because if Girardi doesn’t know the leash of each of his relievers in the bullpen (a strength of the team), then how is he going to handle Burnett in Game 4 when the game begins to unravel? In case you aren’t aware, when A.J. Burnett begins to go south, it happens in seconds not minutes. Following a walk, in three pitches, you could have three consecutive doubles and if you don’t see Burnett entering his famous “Eff It” mode quick enough, the game could be out of hand before you have even called down to the bullpen. Girardi has no idea how to judge when Burnett is about to begin an epic meltdown, and aside from Burnett being the worst pitcher on the team and my least favorite player, Girardi’s inability to understand his momentum swings on the mound is the unnerving part of him staring Game 4.
There are the fans, the ones who watched A.J. Burnett’s 2010 season and watched him lose all five of his starts in June and record just 14 quality starts in 33 starts. The fans that watched a 95-67 team get 22 percent of their losses from one pitcher making the equivalent of 30 percent of the 2010 Rangers’ payroll. These are the fans like me. These are the fans that are realists and know that even though Tommy Hunter might be as bad as Burnett, the Yankees are going to likely need to hang a six-spot on the Rangers in Game 4, and even then it might not be enough.
Then there are the fans that have started the AJ Burnett movement. These are the fans who even though deep down they know Burnett has about as good of a chance of winning Game 4 as Don Larsen would at 81 years of age, they have proclaimed they “believe in Burnett.” These are the fans that don’t get worried when the Yankees trail by five runs in an ALCS game because the night before the Yankees erased the same deficit as if the chance that the same result might happen again has any relevance to the current game. These are the fans that will say, “I told you so” when Burnett pitches well, but I don’t need someone to tell me when a guy who makes $16.5 million finally does his job.
and more from this same column…
No, the Yankees won’t be eliminated with a loss in Game 4 on Tuesday, but they might as well be. The five-game series against the Rangers I was worried about in the ALDS ended up happening in the ALCS after the Yankees split the first two games. Cliff Lee started Game 1 of the best-of-five series on Monday and now he is waiting to start Game 5 of the series, if the Yankees can get it there. I don’t know if I can physically and emotionally handle the Yankees coming back to force a Game 7 only to have Lee strike out another dozen Yankees and sprint off the mound after seven-pitches innings knowing that the Yankees were so close to acquiring him three months ago.
I want nothing more than the Burnett enthusiasts to tell me after Game 4 that I was wrong. I want to be wrong. I want A.J. Burnett to pitch well and I want the Yankees to win Game 4, the ALCS and the World Series. But like Winnie Gecko warns her fiancé Jacob about her father, Gordon, in Wall Street 2, “He’s not who you think he is Jake. He’ll hurt us,” I am reminding you of who A.J. Burnett is and what he is capable of.
I was hoping for a couple of Yankees fans to kidnap Burnett last night the way Mike O’Hara and Jimmy Flaherty kidnap Lewis Scott before the Celtics play the Jazz in the NBA Finals in Celtic Pride, but it looks like that didn’t happen. So now I have to believe in A.J. Burnett. I have no other choice.
July 19, 2011
The thing about Burnett is that I can’t blame him for his contract. If Cashman wanted to give him the fifth year that no one else would at $16.5 million per year, you can’t blame him for accepting it. Why wouldn’t he take that deal? And I understand that he stands there and takes his losses like he should in front of the media and in front of the cameras, and that he seems to be an important clubhouse presence and someone who genuinely cares about winning and wants to succeed. All of those things are nice, but at the end of the day it’s his performance on the field that matters and only that.
A.J. Burnett doesn’t suck. Well, not completely. He’s not as bad as Jaret Wright was or as much of a bust as Carl Pavano was or as crazy as Kevin Brown. He is what he is. He’s a .500 pitcher with a 4.00 ERA who sometimes will be lights out and sometimes be lights on. He doesn’t suck. He’s just inconsistent.
August 11, 2011
So, knowing that the Cashman and Girardi ONLY care about winning and will do WHATEVER it takes to win, this decision seems like a rather easy one to me: A.J. Burnett is out of the rotation.
It’s not like this is a decision made hastily or without a large sample size. This is a decision based on lots of results. But to be onboard with taking the Yankees’ most ineffective starter and putting him in the bullpen (for now), you first have to identify and understand the two common misconceptions about him.
1. He has “great stuff.” Every time I hear this is it’s like someone pulling their nails from the top left corner to the bottom right corner of a chalkboard. It makes me cringe and hate baseball. Am I watching a different game than everyone else when Burnett pitches? Am I really taking crazy pills like Mugatu? What’s so great about an 8-9 record and 4.60 ERA? Is it because he throws hard? Is it because he has a curveball that drops off the table that has led to a league-leading 15 wild pitches, or basically the equivalent of throwing an entire inning of wild pitches?
Sabathia and Roy Halladay and Felix Hernandez and Tim Lincecum and Justin Verlander have GREAT stuff. A.J. Burnett has the type of “great stuff” that Jeff Weaver had. The only reason Weaver isn’t pitching in the league anymore is because no team was stupid enough to give him $82.5 million.
2. He has the ability to throw a shutout. I LOVE this one. I LOVE IT! I LOVE that people think because once in a while when the night is right and the temperature is perfect and the lineup is just bad enough and the stars align, A.J. Burnett pitches a great game.
I understand that you need swing-and-miss stuff in the postseason, but you also don’t need free-pass stuff in the postseason and under .500 stuff and 4.60 stuff. So, if you’re going to tell me Burnett has the ability (which I don’t think he does) to shut down the Red Sox, Rangers, Angels, Tigers or Indians in a must-win game, you better be able to tell me he also has the ability to put the Yankees in an inescapable hole before they even hit for the first time in the game.
and more from this same column…
Let’s look at and dissect some of the answers that Burnett gave after his start on Tuesday:
“Before the sixth, I kept my team in it the best I could. And that’s what I’m going to continue to keep doing.”
It’s always something with Burnett and everyone is always making excuses for him. He’s always talking about if he “could have one pitch back” or that he “only made one mistake” or that “he left it all on the field.” You know who uses the line “I left it all on the field?” People who lose.
Burnett pinpoints the place where he stopped pitching well and started pitching like a guy who makes $500,000 per start whether he’s good or not. But hey, EFF IT! Only the first six inning matter and if you did “the best you could” well, I can’t argue you with that. Except there’s no place for who did their “best” on the scoreboard. Just runs, hits and errors.
“I wouldn’t change a lot.”
Oh, OK! You wouldn’t change the double you gave up to Hall of Famer Jeff Mathis. Or how about the 50-foot curveball you threw to Erick Aybar with a runner on third? Well, if you wouldn’t change them, I can’t argue with that.
“I haven’t won in a long time. I think I’ve pitched a lot of games that I could have won. I think a lot of things are out of my hands and are out of my control. I’ve given [up] three runs in [14] of my starts. If that is not good enough to win, I don’t know what is.”
When I went out to eat for my dad’s birthday on June 29, I kept looking over my sister’s head to try and see the TV at the bar at the restaurant to check the Yankees-Brewers score. A.J. Burnett was pitching. I didn’t think that when he won that game that night I would still be waiting for him to win another one 43 days later.
This is my favorite part. Burnett says the way he has pitched should be good enough to be undefeated or at least close to undefeated and then tries to sneaky throw his offense (currently the 2nd best offense in baseball) under the bus. The Yankees have scored more runs than 28 other teams, so yeah, it must be the offense’s fault!
He’s right, he’s give up three runs or less in 14 starts (it’s actually 15). But did you notice that he didn’t say that in those 15 starts he failed to go six innings in or that he didn’t mention the three times he has given up six or more earned runs? Why did he forget to mention that just last Wednesday he had a 13-1 lead to work with in Chicago and couldn’t even get through five innings and qualify for the win? 13 hits in 4 1/3 innings to the White Sox? If that is not enough to get you kicked out of the rotation, I don’t know what is.
“I’m going to stay positive. I threw the ball well tonight, I kept my team in it.”
If that is throwing the ball well, I don’t want to know what throwing the ball poorly is. OK, that was the last one of those.
August 22, 2011
At the end of Good Will Hunting, Ben Affleck’s character (Chuckie Sullivan) tells Matt Damon’s character (Will Hunting), “You know what the best part of my day is? The ten seconds before I knock on the door ’cause I let myself think I might get there, and you’d be gone. I’d knock on the door and you just wouldn’t be there. You just left.”
I live this every day. You know what the best part of my day is? Every day when I sign online, or go on Twitter, or turn on the TV or the radio ‘cause I let myself think that I will see the headline or hear the phrase, “A.J. Burnett removed from Yankees rotation.” I’m not foolish enough to think that I might hear, “Yankees release A.J. Burnett” because of the money he is owed this season and the $33 million for the next two years. But I let myself think that maybe, just maybe he will be sent to the bullpen and given the Jorge Posada treatment in that he doesn’t fit the team’s plan in putting the best team on the field. I think we’re getting there.
Burnett faced 12 batters. Eight of them reached base. Five of them were named Ben Revere, Trevor Plouffe, Danny Valencia Rene Tosoni and Luke Hughes (they are still named those names too). This isn’t the Red Sox, Rangers or Tigers or a team that has postseason aspirations. This is a team that outside of Burnett’s start scored five runs total in the other three games of the series. It’s a team that is 16 games under .500 and 13 games out of it in the weak Central. Let’s face it: The Twins suck.
But no one sucks when A.J. Burnett is pitching. Here’s how Burnett’s night went on Saturday:
Groundout
Double
Double
Sacrifice Fly
Strikeout
Home run
Walk
Double
Groundout
Single
Walk
Walk
One last time … Ladies and gentlemen, A.J. Burnett!