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Yankees and Red Sox Headed in Different Directions

The Yankees and Red Sox meet in the Bronx this weekend for a three-game series and even though it’s meaningless, it calls for an email exchange with Mike Hurley.

When I first looked at the 2012 Yankees schedule I thought this weekend’s series would be crucial in determining  who would win the division and who would try their luck in Bud Selig’s one-game playoff. But this series isn’t crucial, and it’s weird that the Yankees and Red Sox will meet with 13 games separating them in the loss column. I said it’s “weird,” I didn’t say it’s “bad.”

With the Yankees and Red Sox meeting set for three games in the Bronx I sent Mike Hurley the mandatory email to let him know that the baseball season is still going on. I’m surprised he replied.

Keefe: I made the subject of the initial email I sent to you “Yacht Party” hoping that you would think it was an invitation from John Henry to join him on his yacht to bring up team morale for the Red Sox. That is what the ownership group in Boston does when things are going poorly at this time of the year, right?

This is our first email exchange since July 6, but we also did a podcast on July 27. Neither time did we actually talk about the actual games or the series, and neither time did you have any Yankees-related questions for me. Instead we spent thousands of words and 34 minutes and two seconds of a podcast talking about the issues surrounding the Red Sox. Now that things are even worse than they were the last two times we talked, why would we change what’s working?

I’m not sure where Jeff Passan ranks on my list of heroes, but he’s definitely in the conversation. After the John Lackey double-fisting story there seemed to be a lull for a day or two with the Red Sox’ clubhouse drama, which was unusual for the the last 11 months and I started to wonder if that would be it for the backstabbing and anonymous sources until the end of the season when there is likely to be even more. Then Jeff Passan comes along and blows away every other Red Sox storyline since the fried chicken and beer stories became public last fall.

There’s just so much in Passan’s story that I don’t even know where to begin. I feel like a five-year-old staring at a mountain of Christmas presents and having no clue which one to open first. I know you’re supposed to save the biggest gift for last, but eff that. Let’s start with the guy who I thought was invincible in Boston. (Then again, I thought Tim Thomas was invincible in Boston a year ago.)

With David Ortiz out of the lineup, and talking about his contract and calling Boston a sh-thole when he’s in the lineup, and Kevin Youkilis now playing for the other Sox, Dustin Pedroia is currently the only player you could consider the face of the Red Sox, but it seems like that idea is slowly fading.

Pedroia was outed by Passan as co-chair of the Anti-Bobby Valentine Club along with Adrian Gonzalez (don’t worry we’ll get to the defending AL Player of the Week) and it was the first time I can remember where Pedroia came out as a bad guy in his major league career. Of course with the release of this story I listened to Boston sports radio and callers were, for likely the first time in history, going against Pedroia and even saying he needs to go.

While it seems like nearly all of Boston despises Bobby V, is it possible that Pedroia and Gonzalez are starting to make Bobby V a sympathetic figure?

Hurley: It was incredible the other day when irate fans were calling in to 98.5 The Sports Hub and saying they were no longer going to wear their Pedroia jerseys. One guy even said his son’s favorite player was Pedroia but he’s no longer allowed to wear his Pedroia shirt. That may be more indicative of his overbearing parenting tactics than the overall feeling of the fan base, but it gives you an indication of how things are going around here.

The thing with this is that it’s just so complicated and there are so many layers to it, it’s really hard to unravel all the way to try to gain some real understanding and generate some valid opinions. I mean, take Pedroia for example. The guy plays his ass off every night, so there’s no problems with him on the field (though he might want to hit .300 before he stages a mutiny). And he took a team-friendly deal long before free agency, definitely passing up big bucks in doing so (he makes $8 million this year). He truly appears to be playing the game for the right reasons, and that’s respectable.

On the other hand, he gets paid $8 million to play baseball, so he should probably just stick to playing baseball. Unless Bob Valentine was peeing in Dusty’s locker and leaving old deli meats to bake in the sun on Pedroia’s dashboard, his situation can’t be so bad that he needs to lead the charge to get the manager fired. I absolutely believe Passan’s story 100 percent and I don’t believe one word that’s come out of Pedroia, Gonzalez, Valentine or most of all ownership since the story broke. It happened, and they’re embarrassed, as they should be.

In the long run, I don’t think Pedroia will be painted in a negative light for a very long time. For one, he’s going to outlast Valentine. Hell, this email exchange may outlast Valentine. And he’s not going to change on the field, which ultimately is why people like baseball players to begin with. I think. I really don’t know anymore.

And um. Did you say Adrian Gonzalez is the defending AL Player of the Week? I believe you mean defending AL Co-Player of the Week. He still was given a free watch, though. I’m really happy for him. That’s two free watches this year!

Keefe: Gonzalez has made out pretty nice since arriving in Boston. So far he has received a $154-million contract extension and has now earned a pair of watches. Who cares that he was part of the worst September collapse in history last year or that he won’t play in a postseason game this year? I certainly don’t.

I have waited for the day that Boston would turn on Pedroia, and I never thought it would come because who thought it could get this bad? If this thing can reach Pedroia and force Boston parents to not allow their children to wear his jersey, just how much worse can it get it? I have an answer: much worse.

Larry Lucchino defended Bobby Valentine on WEEI on Thursday and said that he would not be fired this season. But if you believe what Larry Lucchino says then you probably believe the one-game playoff is good for baseball. Bobby Valentine is going to get fired for this season because the Red Sox ownership might be out of touch with what goes on with their team now that all of their attention is focused on soccer, but they aren’t that out of touch to see the empty seats at Fenway and the way their investment in perceived throughout the city and in the media. There is no way they can go into 2013 with this team led by this man.

While things were bad last September under Terry Francona, things didn’t really come out until the season was over and Francona was gone, so he never had to manage with the media and public being in on the toxicity of the clubhouse. Valentine has had control of the team through the entire aftermath of last September and whether or not injuries are responsible for this season, he has done nothing to prove he is the type of leader that can change things. (This is also why I hope he doesn’t get fired and continues to set the Red Sox back years.) So whether he gets fired at Yankee Stadium this weekend or the following week or on Sept. 6 (my pick in the Bobby V Firing Pool) or at the end of the season, he’s going to get fired for what’s happened this year.

The one thing we knew and have been reminded about Bobby V is that he has a big mouth and will say anything and everything to anyone at anytime. (That felt a little Michael Scott-esque.) And when Bobby V gets fired it’s all going to come out. Anything that will put the players and the ownership group in a negative light will reach the media, and the Red Sox will respond with a Nomar/Manny/Francona-like slandering of Valentine. It’s going to be glorious.

When Bobby Valentine gets fired, the Red Sox and their fans are going to long for the days of fried chicken and beer and Jeff Passan.

Hurley: The way you can write for days without actually asking a question is truly impressive. Bravo.

Valentine is very much like Michael Scott in terms of ineptitude, but the difference is that Michael Scott is likable. I really don’t see a reason to like Valentine. I don’t see any reason to like any 62-year-old man who goes by “Bobby.”

It’s going to be tough for Lucchino to fire Valentine, considering it was Lucchino who forced the hiring because BOBBY just had so much pep! He rides his bike around! He shoots from the hip! Ha! He’ll be a real hoot!!

So really Larry should fire himself before firing Valentine, but we all know that’s not going to happen.

And speaking of ownership, you might’ve missed the story from the Liverpool Echo this week, in which Henry blames Tom Hicks for all the team’s problems, even though Henry’s owned the team for two full years. Excuses, excuses, excuses. I’m not sure Henry can get his yacht over to England to pump up the players, but I don’t think his comments in the story are going to help.

Some highlights:

“The best analogy is that you can’t turn an ocean liner around like you can turn a speedboat.”

“We knew we could never be on an equal footing financially with the Yankees. But we had to do everything in our power to get on a level footing with them on the playing field. That was a tremendous challenge. You could say Liverpool is an even bigger challenge than the Red Sox.

“We came into this not knowing an awful lot about football,” he admitted.

Keefe: I think my biggest problem with Bobby isn’t that he’s called a baseball “genius” or that people think everything he does is calculated (if anything he shouldn’t want this reputation because why would you want to be perceived as calculated when you’re the manager of a horrible team), but it’s his smugness. Bobby always thinks he’s the smartest man in the room and carries this idea that he is better than everyone else. Just look at his responses to questions about the Passan story.

“Wow. Is that what was said, really? That’s what Dustin and Adrian said? It did say that? I didn’t hear that. I’m glad that July is over, because they’re still playing for me.”

And…

“I’m not going to comment on any stories because I don’t know what issues you might be referring to. Adrian’s issues? Dustin and I had a talk about a meeting I had. I don’t know if that was July.”

Let’s forget that Bobby Valentine shrugged off the meeting and pretended like it never happened even though Ben Cherington confirmed that the meeting take place. Let’s forget about that for a second and think about this: Is Jeff Passan going to publish a story to the fifth-biggest U.S. site (according to Quantcast) about a story he made up? Is he going to go out on a whim and create sources and guess that things happened just to draw attention to himself on a story that would be the most significant story regarding the Red Sox since Bob Hohler’s story? Apparently Pedroia and Gonzalez think so.

Dustin Pedroia: “I know we lost last year and we made huge signings and all kinds of stuff, but we’re trying to play the game the right way and have an organization that does things right, and just play winning baseball. It’s tough when all this stuff comes out, that everyone’s trying to get the manager fired. That’s not the case, man. I’ve never met the guy that wrote the story. That’s about it.”

Adrian Gonzalez: “The source is inaccurate. He says that I was animated and one of the most vocal guys in the meeting and that’s false. If somebody’s going to try to be an unnamed source, they better be right with what they say, because this is putting our integrity and everyone about us out there and that’s just unfair.”

I love the back and forth with the players and the media and the players just calling everyone liars when higher-ups are confirming things they are denying. And I love that the pitching staff is no longer the only focal point of this disaster, but now everyone is getting dragged into it.

Who looks the worst out of all of this? Ownership, Bobby, Pedroia or Gonzalez?

Hurley: Everyone. But if you don’t want me to take the easy way out, I’ll pick ownership.

They fired Terry Francona. They decided against letting Ben Cherington hire a baseball manager. They instead forced the hiring of a circus clown. They blamed Francona for the “culture” problem, yet they allowed Josh Beckett to give a middle finger to the media and fans when he refused to apologize for golfing while missing a start due to injury. They censored Valentine from even criticizing the player. They release BS statements via email, which speaks to their lack of accountability. Email! They give Beats by Dre headphones to players on a harbor cruise after the players complain the schedule is too grueling. They send promotional emails to tell ticket holders that everything’s OK and you should still come pay baseball’s highest ticket prices to watch “the cheerful Cody Ross” and the “inspiring Daniel Nava.”

Yes, Valentine is a goofball, and yes the players acted improperly and should feel some shame about it, but ultimately everything can be traced back to the culture fostered by ownership. They’ve acted as though they’re infallible in recent years, and it’s blown up in their face.

Keefe: I think your mention of Josh Beckett was the first mention of Josh Beckett in this exchange, which is pretty impressive because he had been the face of the September 2011-Present Red Sox, and it seems like the Passan story has put him in the background, which is a shame.

On Thursday you wrote in chronological order the turmoil that has surrounded the team since Opening Day. While all of the events have brought joy to my life I decided to pick out my five favorite moments from the list that aren’t the Passan story.

1. April 21: The Sox blow a 9-0 lead over the Yankees after five innings and eventually lose 15-9. Valentine calls it “rock bottom.”

2. May 4: Boston Globe investigates Fenway Park’s “sellout streak” and reveals it to be a “distribution streak” in which not every seat is sold.

3. May 6: In a 17-inning game against the Orioles, Adrian Gonzalez steps in to bat against designated hitter/first baseman Chris Davis, who was pitching in an emergency role. Gonzalez strikes out on three pitches. The Sox lose 9-6.

4. May 10: Josh Beckett allows 7 ER in 2.1 IP. He then refuses to apologize after the game for golfing while injured, and he delivers the now-infamous “we only get 18 off days a year” message. Also, a fan wearing a paper bag on his head becomes a national sensation as a representative of the Red Sox fan base.

5. June 21: David Ortiz says he’s not having fun and says Boston is “becoming to be the [expletive] hole that it used to be.”

You listed 29 events that make the Red Sox franchise look bad in the last four-plus months. 29! There’s still 47 days left in the season. This is only going to get better.

Which of these events is your favorite? (You can pick more than one if you want since it’s going to be hard to narrow it down.)

Hurley: I think my favorite was this one:

April 21: Red Sox acquire Marlon Byrd, who had been hitting .070 for the Cubs. He’d go on to hit .270 with the Red Sox before he was released in June, and he was later suspended for testing positive for PEDs.

What better describes the 2012 Red Sox than the acquisition of an .070 hitter from the NL Central?

I also liked this one:

April 25: Bobby Valentine admits that he didn’t know opposing pitcher Liam Hendriks was a righty, so he drew up his original lineup as though the pitcher was a lefty. Valentine said it was Jarrod Saltalamacchia who alerted him to the mistake.

I think overall, from a pure in-game management, standpoint, Valentine has done a pretty good job. But he was flat-out awful in April. He was so clueless. This was the perfect encapsulation of that.

This one was pretty good, too:

June 3: Daniel Bard lasts just 1.2 innings in Toronto, in which he allowed five earned runs while hitting two batters and walking six. He’s yet to return to the big leagues.

That’s just funny. Go Red Sox.

Keefe: I would like to thank your Red Sox for beating the Orioles on Thursday night and keeping the Yankees’ division lead at six games. Who would have thought that in the middle of August I would be rooting for the Red Sox to beat the Orioles to help the Yankees’ maintain their division lead? I’m just happy everything is playing out the way it is.

It sucks that this weekend’s series is meaningless. When I first looked at the schedule before the season I looked at this series, the mid-September series at Fenway and the last series of the season at the Stadium as the three most important series of the season. Now they are just a joke. The best part is that the ticket prices for those three September games at Fenway will only be about $8 each. I’m guessing there will empty rows and maybe even sections at Fenway for those three games, but Sam Kennedy won’t be counting those seats when he announces another sellout.

I get the feeling from this exchange that not only have you given up on the Red Sox, which you did weeks ago, but that you don’t even really like talking about them anymore. The Red Sox forced you to write about the Patriots’ first preseason game. I mean how much more sports deprived can someone get than not only watching preseason football with interest, but also feeling the need to write about it? I’m not even sure a “Sweet Caroline” sing along can fix where you’re at.

I wish I could say that I’m sorry to see you this down on your baseball team, but I can’t. All I can hope for at this point is that it continues through the final six weeks of the season and that Jeff Passan’s story was just the first of many to come out between now and Game 162.

Now that it’s over and it’s been accepted, what has to change this offseason and who’s out of Boston? (Even though it will never happen, I’ve been working to try to fit Dustin Pedroia into the Yankees infield.)

Hurley: You’re a bad person.

The whole area is much more excited about Patriots’ FAKE PRESEASON GAMES than real Red Sox games. That’s where we’re at here. I wrote a lot about that preseason game because there’s a team that will actually contend for a title this year and is run by competent people. It’s a lot more fun than writing about the Red Sox.

How do you fix the Red Sox? I don’t know. Like I said, the dysfunction starts at the top, so can you really fix it with a few simple moves?

You could start by empowering the GM to actually be the GM. That’d be a good start. Let him hire a baseball manager and not a dugout entertainer.

Ideally, you’d find a way to get rid of Beckett and Lackey, though even if you paid their entire contracts, would any team take them? If you were the GM of a team, would you take either one of those guys for free? I might take Beckett, but I’d have to think about it. For free! That’s a pretty bad situation.

You hold a meeting with the players in spring training and remind them that they’re employees. They should show up to work, play baseball, then go home, enjoy your time with your family, then come back to work the next day. You don’t get to have a say in how things are run, because things tend to unravel when that happens. (Note from Michael: This will never happen. Can you picture John Henry delivering this speech? Can you picture him even believing the message? Ha.)

You keep the lineup as is. They score plenty of runs and play pretty solid defense. As long as you can keep them in line, they’ll be fine. (Though you should maybe upgrade from Nick Punto. Just a thought.)

You let your new manager pick his staff. Do you know that the Red Sox coaches don’t talk to each other or to Valentine? In real life. It happens. So bring in a competent manager who will be able to pick competent coaches, people who can help Jon Lester get out of his funk, or can help Daniel Bard throw straight, who can help Jacoby Ellsbury find his power stroke, etc.

This team was the best team in baseball 12 months ago. At the end of August last year, with mostly the same guys, they were 83-52. This year, they’ll be lucky to be .500. They’ll be good enough to compete again next year so long as they open the wallet and take some steps to change the culture. I just don’t know if they can do that.

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Scorecard Memory: Drinking Cough Syrup, Eating a Calendar and Piling On

Sheriff Tom goes back to April 14, 1996 in Section 39 of Yankee Stadium for a Yankees-Rangers game.

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

April 14, 1996: Yankees host the Texas Rangers. (The Sunday rubber game following a loss on Saturday and a win on Friday.)

Well, this was one for the books. Leave it to us to take an otherwise lazy Sunday afternoon and make a mess of it. So much stands out from this one game, it’s practically a defining slab of the era and it has become a legend in my litany. Starting with sipping cough syrup on the top deck of the parking garage simply because we ran out of beer to eating pieces of the giveaway calendar inside the bleachers just to say we did it to debuting a new tradition that thankfully was short-lived: the infamous Home Run Pile-On … this one will never be forgotten. Oh, and kids, don’t try this at home! Any of it!

The day began at one of the very first “Blue Lou Barbecues” – up on the parking garage roof across from the Stadium perpendicular to the jail – and it was a wild one, even by Bleacher Creature standards. Early on while the setting was still scant, people were taking Lou’s fancy golf clubs and balls out of his trunk and sending screaming moonshots in the direction of buildings along the way. Over the years many things were hurled out of those buildings in our direction, so consider this returning fire. Of course no one had the talent or sobriety to hit anything. At least I sure hope we didn’t.

We either drank too hard or bought too little as we all ran out of beer, and at a bad time too since it was too close to first pitch to make another run. (This was still the era when the drunkards would try to get in for all the action, as beer was still sold in the section and we could get our fix inside.) One vagrant guy that always seemed to be out there collecting our cans came over and started talking about things like cough syrup in times of need and oddly enough someone had some in their trunk. I know, don’t ask. Our shifty buddy took the first swig in front of our skeptical selves, passed the bottle on to Lou who glugged a bit and it went on to me and beyond. I think we all did two rounds of that and all was right in our world. Years later, I now see chugging cough syrup is practically a pandemic and it’s decried in the newspapers, and here was a cabal of Bleacher Creatures in 1996 setting quite the low bar in that regard. Anyhow, it was time to move this one inside.

People were getting thrown out all over the place. Ali, the legendary cowbell man, was trying to keep the peace, ringing his bell, raising his arms to invite dancing and song, and pleading to security to get a handle on things. Even though he was doing us all a favor by trying to save us from ourselves we chided him for it. It got so bad with people being thrown out that at one point another fan walked up to me and said, “What are you still doing here? I thought you got thrown out!” It was news to me, but anything was possible. I actually went down to security on the rail to check if this was true and was met with a, “Nah, you’re good for now.”

We had all been handed 1996 Yankees giveaway calendars at the gate and somehow decided it would be a good idea if each of us ripped off some pieces of the players housed inside and ate them. In retrospect, I blame the cough syrup for this. Yes, this was a perfect example of mob mentality spun out of control. Some of us folded the pieces into square bites while some ripped, crumpled and chewed, and others just made a big ball in one shot, but the players were (sigh) ate in their entirety. Here’s a roster of who partook and which player (or players in Big Lou’s case) they ate, fresh off the pages of this scorecard from 16 years ago.

Sheriff Tom – Tony Fernandez
Gang Bang Steve – Bob Wickman
Tom J (I don’t know who this is) – Tino Martinez
Blue Lou – Dwight Gooden and Joe Girardi. What a slob.

So even after all of this I had a fight with a pack of mustard and lost. I’m wondering now if I was using mustard to add spice to the paper I was eating. Otherwise why I was opening mustard on my own is beyond me. I was notorious for never eating anything out there one would put mustard on in fear of losing my omnipotent beer buzz. This one packet blasted back at me and I was marked. I looked like a Keith Haring poster. For the rest of the day people – most of them strangers – were literally lining up to hand me mustard packs to watch me open them, in the hopes I would get pasted with yet another yellow hue. Being drunk and increasingly belligerent, I was all about proving them wrong and showing them that, yes, I could indeed open a mustard pack. Even that was a disaster in itself, as once they were opened something needed to be done with them, and I decided simply dropping them on the ground would suffice. Of course your next step was someone actually taking a next step, right on top of them, shooting mustard about like shrapnel and getting it all over everyone.

“Sit down, you alcoholic!” someone yelled at me at some point while I was standing up, either eating mustard packets or eating a piece of the giveaway calendar. Oh, my Mom would have been so proud if she could have seen me then.

There was an old man sitting with us who was not our own Old Man Jimmy, spinning yarns about the old Yankee Stadium. Because he was very old and particularly wistful we decided he was full of crap. “Old man telling lies” was promptly scrawled on the scorecard.

In one of the more comedic faux celebrity sightings we have had out there over the years, a dead ringer for Burt Reynolds walked up the stairs to a serenade of hoots and hollers. Someone frankly asked him if he “took a Cannonball Run to the bathroom.” He gave a sheepish wave in response, made his way to his seat and plopped right down next to his date – a dead ringer for Loni Anderson.

Yet even more maniacal fun took hold after a seemingly innocuous Mariano Duncan home run in the Yankees’ half of the sixth, which made the score 8-2 in favor of the good guys. Two of the guys dancing a celebratory jig on the seats took a tumble and rather than help them up, someone decided to pile on instead. Then another daredevil shot through the air, crashing on the cluster, and then it was on! It’s noted here that our friend Gang Bang Steve ended up on the very bottom with an otherwise unidentified “John.” I ended up losing my Cousin Brewski pin in the ensuing melee. (More on legendary beer-slinger and bleacher crooner Cousin Brewski and his highly prized pins in time.)

After this wreck was complete everyone hopped up all grin, gusto and guffaw, which turned to winces and groans when no one was looking. Apparently some of us thought this was so much fun we reenacted the whole scene when Gerald Williams hit a totally meaningless home run in the Yankee eighth to make it 12-2. I friggin’ hated this tradition and I’m grateful that security tired of it almost immediately and put a kibosh on it. I mean, think about this: a bunch of drunken goofs taking running starts, flying through the air and crashing on a pile of others on and in between bleacher benches in uncontrollable daredevil fashion. Back then we averaged around 160 pounds and not today’s 260 (or is it 360?), but this still hurt like hell. I don’t miss it, no way and no how!

To cap the scorecard this time around I see there was an early nod to old friend Gail By The Rail (the infamous candy-thrower) along with random comments such as “Marge Schott should be Schott,” the ever popular “show your ti-s” and a note that a girl in a fur wrap was gleefully dubbed “animal killer.”

The Yankees pasted the Rangers on this day to the tune of 12-3. Andy Pettitte was the beneficiary of the Yankee attack with Kevin Gross getting smacked around on the hill for Texas. By the time he left in the second, to laughter, it was 5-1 New York. For the Yankees, Bernie, Tino and O’Neill all had a pair of hits, while Mariano Duncan cracked out three, including the jack that precipitated the original pile-on, and he drove in three on this day (bless the man). Gerald Williams also homered, drove in three and scored three times. Your Yankees lineup was interesting, and looked like this:

1. Bernie Williams, CF
2. Tino Martinez, 1B
3. Paul O’Neill, RF
4. Ruben Sierra, DH
5. Jim Leyritz, C
6. Mariano Duncan, 2B
7. Andy Fox, 3B
8. Gerald Williams, LF
9. Derek Jeter, SS

As for Texas, they managed 10 hits of their own, with fun foe Rusty Greer having three, including a homer. Their lineup shaped up like this:

1. Lou Frazier, CF
2. Ivan Rodriguez, C
3. Will Clark, 1B
4. Mickey Tettleton, DH
5. Craig Worthington, 3B
6. Rusty Greer, LF
7. Mark McLemore, 2B
8. Damon Buford, RF
9. Kevin Elster, SS (LOL)

Let’s wrap with a profile, and Damon (son of Don) Buford it is.

The guy drifted onto the scene in 1993 and wore many hats, making stops with the Orioles, Mutts, Rangers, Red Sox and Cubs. He usually played around 60-100 games a year, though the Cubs saw to it to give him 150 of the 699 career games he played over eight years in one campaign (2000). He rewarded them with a .251 average and a piddling 15 home runs for that blind faith. For his career, he batted a sickly .242 in 1,853 at-bats, with 54 home runs and 218 RBIs. He had some speed, swiping 56 bags, but was also nailed 35 times. He struck out 430 times – way too high a percentage – and took 173 free passes. He played all the outfield positions and when it was wrapping up for him he made cameos at both second and third. 1996 was actually his “high-water mark” as he batted .282 in 90 games (though he only had 145 at-bats) and we got to see him go 1-for-3 on this nice April day. Born in 1970, he was a 10th round draft pick in the 1990 draft by way of USC. This second-generation star’s Baseball-Reference page has exactly 13,000 views as I’m banging this out, which seems low to me. By no means was he was an All-Star, but I’m thrilled to say I got to see this somewhat fleet-of-foot, world-class athlete ply his trade for my enjoyment.

There were only 20,181 on hand (and a good portion of those were drunk and ended up being tossed out of the bleachers as the day went on) and the game was played in an even three hours time. Your umpires on this day were the late and lamented Durwood Merrill (HP), Gary Cederstrom (1B), Dale Scott (2B) and Rocky Roe (3B).

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this installment, and kids, only drink cough medicine if you have a cough!

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I Forgive Derek Lowe

Now that Derek Lowe is a Yankee it’s time to forgive him for his time with the Red Sox and Oct. 20, 2004.

In October 2004, I hated Johnny Damon more than any other athlete. If I had made an All-Animosity Team back then, Johnny Damon would have been the team captain the way Josh Beckett has been for the last three years.

Damon was the founding father of the “Idiot” culture of the 2004 Red Sox and he stood for everything that wasn’t the New York Yankees. Aside from Red Sox ownership he played the biggest role as a player in turning Fenway Park into a social scene, attracting pink hats and a crowd whose primary concern seems to be making sure they use the bathroom before “Sweet Caroline” so they can be at their seat to sing along and sway back and forth. Damon became the face of the Red Sox, personifying the change the franchise underwent by transforming the losing mentality the team and its fans exemplified. I hated Johnny Damon.

By stealing Johnny Damon away from the atmosphere and environment he helped create, in the winter of 2005, the Yankees did more than just acquire their rival’s leadoff hitter and center fielder. They acquired the heart and soul of their rival and at that time – outside of winning another championship – it was the next best thing to making the pain 2004 hurt a little less.

I didn’t think I could ever forgive Johnny Damon for Game 7, but I did. And I’m prepared to forgive Derek Lowe too after already doing the same for Doug Mientkiewicz, Mark Bellhorn, Alan Embree and Mike Myers on much smaller scales.

For someone I have hated for the last 15 years of my life and hated a great deal for nearly the last eight, I feel weird rooting for Lowe, who was the bad guy. It’s almost like I’m rooting for Coach Dan Devine to not put Rudy in for the final seconds of the Georgia Tech game or for the puck to roll on end for Charlie Conway and for him to lose control of it during his triple deke on the penalty shot against the Hawks.

Some Yankees fans don’t like Derek Lowe on the team or anyone from that 2004 Red Sox team, and they will like him less if he gets lit up while with the Yankees. But if he pitches the way he pitched on Monday night and he turns into the guy he was from April 8 to June 1 (7-3, 3.06) and not the guy he was from June 7 to July 31 (1-7, 8.77), those fans will like him too. Then again, if the Rangers had rocked Lowe at the Stadium on Monday night, maybe I wouldn’t be forgiving him. Actually I know I wouldn’t be forgiving him.

There’s nothing that will ever erase those four consecutive October nights from my memory even though I have tried. I have never re-watched any of the games from that series, and aside from each game’s starters throughout the series, I have tried to black out what happened from the ninth inning of Game 4 until the final out of Game 7. When I think back to that series now it certainly doesn’t feel like it could have all unfolded over four consecutive nights. Those four nights felt like 40 while they were happening and the months leading up to Opening Day in 2005 (really Opening Night for the Yankees and Red Sox) felt like an eternity.

I watched Games 1, 2, 3 and 4 from my dorm room in downtown Boston, and I remember the hysteria and chaos following the Red Sox’ Game 4 win that felt like a minor speed bump on the way to the World Series. I actually took the Game 4 loss surprisingly well and shrugged it off because no one blows a 3-0 series lead.

For Game 5, I went to the then-Fleet Bank ATM across from the Park Street T stop on the Boston Commons, and withdrew nearly all of the money I had worked for over the summer to use for spending money that semester. I folded it up and put it in the left chest pocket of my fleece and rode a packed T to Kenmore with my hand over the pocket and the money. I had called my friend, Jim, just a couple hours earlier and told him about some guy I found online who was selling tickets to Game 5. Jim was training for hockey at the time and didn’t think he would be able to get to Boston in time, but I sold him on the idea of watching the Yankees win the pennant at Fenway Park. He got off the ice early, skipped taking a shower (there is nothing in the world that can compare to the stench of a post-hockey skipped shower), loaded up on the deodorant and Axe spray in his glove compartment and turned I-95 North into the Brickyard.

With Jim en route to Fenway, I went from the five-stop T ride to meeting a stranger in his Ford Explorer down a side street near Fenway Park. I was 18 years old and knew Boston as well as I know what Eddie Vedder is saying in “Yellow Ledbetter.” It was 2-to-1 that I would have the money in my left chest pocket taken without receiving tickets and 5-to-1 that the Channel 7 news in Boston was going to lead their broadcast that night with a story about a college freshman wearing a Yankees hat who was last seen trying to buy tickets from a scalper in a Ford Explorer down a Fenway side street rather than the result of Game 5. Actually what am I thinking? A college freshman wearing a Yankees hat in Boston pre-2004 World Series? The Boston Police would have helped cover it up. I probably would have been held captive by a Boston Police Captain like Amanda in Gone Baby Gone.

Jim made it to Boston in record time, but we didn’t get into Fenway until we heard the crowd roaring as Pedro Martinez retired Hideki Matsui to end the top of the first. The Red Sox scored twice off Mike Mussina in the first, but Bernie Williams answered with a solo shot in the second. It remained 2-1 Boston until Derek Jeter hit a two-out, bases-clearing double in the sixth. We were sitting right next to the Pesky Pole in right field (where the Yankees should have won, but Fenway’s short fenced caused a ground-rule double later in the game) and we watched the ball roll into the corner as the Yankees took a 4-2 lead and Jeter ended up on third on the throw. We all know what happened over the next eight innings.

I spent five hours and 49 minutes and 14 innings at Fenway Park that afternoon into night. I spent nearly all of my spending money (who am I kidding with “spending?” … it was for beer and Domino’s, which I still know the number to by heart) on the chance to see the Yankees win the pennant at Fenway Park and for the chance to see the monumental look of devastation on the face of Red Sox fans in their home. I think we can chalk that one up as a bad investment and maybe my worst investment unless we’re counting when I bought the Chumbawamba album “Tubthumper” in sixth grade just for the song “Tubthumping.” We’ll call it a tie.

The next night the Yankees let Curt Schilling shut them down on one ankle and failed to make him move off the mound with bunt attempts. I remember one time in the game when Schilling had to become part of a play at first and he ran like Chien-Ming Wang running home in Houston on the day that changed his career. For all of the great decisions Joe Torre made in his 12 years with the Yankees, not having the team drop downs bunts in Game 6 was one of the Top 5 worst decisions of his Yankees tenure. The other four would be starting Kevin Brown in Game 7 of that series, brining the infield in in the ninth inning of Game 7 of the 2001 World Series, bringing Jeff Weaver in in Game 4 of the 2003 World Series with Mariano Rivera sitting in the bullpen and not removing the team from the field while the midges attacked Joba Chamberlain in Game 2 of the 2007 ALDS.

The night after that, Kevin Brown took the Yankees out of the game before Tim McCarver could say anything nonsensical (yup, it happened that quickly). Torre called on Javier Vazquez to put out the fire and instead he brought gasoline and matches with him by ending the game on his first pitch. Derek Lowe shut down the Yankees and won the game on three days rest, and I have hated him since. Well, until Monday night.

To me, Derek Lowe on the Yankees puts a little dent into what happened on those four nights. No, it doesn’t erase it because nothing ever will, but it helps to cope with what happened. Johnny Damon shaving his head and pointing during Roll Call and becoming a Red Sox killer and stealing third base against the Phillies and getting doused in champagne in the Yankees clubhouse put a massive dent in it.

The only key pieces left of that Red Sox team still in the league are Lowe and David Ortiz, and I don’t think Ortiz will ever put on pinstripes and take a sledgehammer to the 2004 legacy, but I wouldn’t want him to anyway (though it would be a nice way to get some closure). And with those two being the only remaining active key members of that team, I can say my body is filled with joy knowing that Red Sox fans have to watch the guy who clinched all three 2004 postseason series for them pitch for the postseason-bound Yankees while they watch a losing Boston team playing out the string like the Royals, Twins and Mets.

Derek Lowe is 39 years old and might be at the cul-de-sac of his career, but he wants another chance to win. He proved on Monday night for four innings against the best offense in baseball that he still knows how to.

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Yankees and Rangers Share Identical Situations

The Rangers are in the Bronx for a four-game series and possible playoff preview and the meeting between the AL’s top two teams called for an email exchange with Adam J. Morris of Lone Star Ball.

The Yankees and Rangers haven’t met since April 25 in Texas when the Rangers took the rubber game of a three-game set early on in the season. This week the Rangers make their first and only trip to the Bronx for a four-game series, which will be the last four games this two teams play against each other in 2012 … unless they meet in the postseason.

Right now the Yankees and Rangers are the top two teams in the American League and are jockeying for position to stay out of the dreaded and nonsensical one-game playoff and trying to clinch home-field advantage. The Yankees still lead the AL East by five games, but some inconsistent play combined with a Tampa Bay winning streak has started to make things a little uncomfortable for the Yankees and Yankees fans in August.

Adam J. Morris of Lone Star Ball joined me for an email exchange to talk about the current state of the Yankees and Rangers, how they are very similar with their rosters and problems and the possibility of another postseason meeting between the two teams.

Keefe: I’ll never forget what Michael Kay said after the Yankees’ comeback in Game 1 of 2010 ALCS on YES’ postgame show. “I said it after Game 1 against the Twins and I’m saying it again … this series is over.” Sure, the Yankees had just completed an epic postseason game comeback against C.J. Wilson and the Rangers bullpen, in very similar fashion to what they had done against Francisco Liriano and Twins in Game 1 of the ALDS, and they had Phil Hughes (who shut down the Twins in Game 3 of the ALDS and who always pitched well in Texas) going in Game 2 against Colby Lewis the next day, along with all of the momentum on their side. It seemed like the Yankees were in a great position to head to the Bronx up 2-0 in the series. That’s when everything changed.

Hughes got lit up in Game 2, and would get lit up again in Game 6, turning in disastrous performances that mirrored Chien-Ming Wang’s awful 2007 ALDS against the Indians. The Yankees were shut down by Lewis in Game 3 and again in Game 6, and between those games, Cliff Lee quieted Yankee Stadium (again) in Game 3, and a combination of Joe Girardi, A.J. Burnett and Yankee killer Bengie Molina cost the Yankees Game 4. Even though the Yankees were able to get to Wilson again and win Game 5, as I was sitting in the Stadium for Game 5, it felt like a tease to extend the series. Even if the Yankees could take Game 6, Cliff Lee was waiting for a potential Game 7, and all he had done is embarrass the Yankees in the last two postseasons.

I said that everything changed for the ALCS after the Yankees’ Game 2 loss, but really it changed when they didn’t get Cliff Lee that July. Had the Yankees successfully traded for Lee, he would have pitched Game 2 of the series and not Hughes, and he wouldn’t have been available for the Rangers to shut the Yankees down with a two-hit, complete-game shutout in Game 3.

When the Yankees lost to the Tigers in last year’s ALDS, it sucked the way that the end of any Yankees season sucks. But knowing that the Rangers were waiting in the ALCS to likely walk through the Yankees again lessened the blow of losing to a Tigers team that the Yankees had a chance to beat every game if they could just get one hit with runners in scoring position.

Right now I look at the Yankees’ potential playoff matchups and the one that scares me the most is still your Texas Rangers for now the third straight year. I know Cliff Lee isn’t there and the vaunted (at least to Yankees fans) Colby Lewis is out for the season, but that lineup is as good as its been and the bullpen still boasts names you don’t want to see in the late innings.

As a Rangers fan, how do you feel about my fear of the Rangers? Are you as confident about your team as I am about not wanting anything to do with them this October?

Morris: I feel good about the Rangers’ chances in 2012. After the last couple of seasons, it’s hard not to have confidence that the Rangers are going to do well in the postseason. This is, for the most part, the same team that has reached the World Series the past two years. With Texas now up 6 1/2 games on the A’s and eight games on the Angels, we should be looking at having home-field advantage for the ALDS, and if they can hold off the Yankees, it would mean home-field advantage in the ALCS as well.

The biggest concern right now for Rangers fans is the state of the starting rotation. Yu Darvish was brought in to be the staff ace, and he essentially replaced C.J. Wilson. Darvish has been up and down all season, looking at times like a guy who is worth the $110 million the Rangers have spent and committed in the future to land him, while looking at other times like a guy who has no idea where the ball is going. Colby Lewis, who was slated to be the team’s Game 1 starter in the playoffs, is down for the year with a torn flexor tendon, and the team is going to miss his steadying influence. Roy Oswalt, given $5 million to pitch for a half-season, was bumped to the bullpen in favor of Scott Feldman, the guy whose job he was supposed to take. Derek Holland has been erratic, and there are still questions about whether Ryan Dempster can adjust to the AL. The team’s best starter has been Matt Harrison, a guy who was left off the 2010 postseason roster entirely. So the rotation is in flux, and while Texas will probably roll out four starters who won’t embarrass them in the postseason, they don’t have that legitimate No. 1 guy to head up the playoff rotation.

That being said, the bullpen is strong and deep, and the lineup is solid. There are concerns that the offense has gone into funks from time to time this year, but all in all, I think Rangers fans should be feeling pretty good about this team heading into the postseason.

Keefe: Well, when you put it that way, maybe I shouldn’t be so concerned with the Rangers. Then again, I have seen the Yankees struggle against even mediocre starting pitching in the playoffs to get too excited about the Rangers’ rotation issues.

I wanted to talk more with you about Cliff Lee because to me he has always been The One That Got Away, and the one that I believe was the missing piece to what would have been back-to-back championships in 2010.

After the Rangers went “all-in” for a chance to return to the postseason in 2010, and you swooped in to get Lee for Justin Smoak from the Mariners, I was devastated. I had woken up that July to a flurry of texts and emails about a report that the Yankees were close to getting Lee for Jesus Montero and the deal seemed to be at the one-yard line and just needed some t’s crossed and some i’s dotted. Obviously the t’s never got crossed and the i’s remained dotless, and Lee did what he did in Game 3, and put a dagger into the Yankees’ season. But I was reassured that he would be part of the rotation in 2011 before Ruben Amaro and the Phillies had to join the party as Jon Heyman’s “mystery team” and make a play for him. This move basically ruined the Christmas hype for me and led to me writing this.

This season, with the Phillies tanking, and rumors of Lee being available and placed on waivers, I thought this was the Yankees’ third chance to get Lee and fate along the lines of Matt Damon and Emily Blunt in The Adjustment Bureau. But with the Steinbrenner’s being serious about staying under the luxury tax, and the Dodgers’ new money trying to make a statement to the league, the Yankees lost out on the chance to trade for him or claim him.

I still haven’t gotten the chance to have Lee take the ball for the Yankees every fifth day, and at this point, maybe I never will unless something miraculous happens in the offseason. I want him now just as much as I did two summers ago when he joined your team. But I need to know what it was like to have maybe my favorite non-Yankee (before he torched them) pitch for your team.

Morris: Having Lee in Texas, even for a short period of time, was something special. He is an artist on the mound. I think watching him on a regular basis was probably like being a Braves fan in the mid-90s and watching Greg Maddux every fifth day. The weird thing is that the Rangers didn’t actually win all that much with Lee on the mound during the regular season, as he had some outings where he had bad luck with the defense or balls in play, or the offense wouldn’t score for him. But despite all that, when it came to be playoff time, I had no doubts that the Rangers would win with Lee on the mound.

I’m sad he’s gone. He’s a special pitcher. But at the same time, the amount of money that the Phillies committed to him is onerous, and I don’t know that it would be a good business decision to match that, given his age and the fact that he’s had a hard time staying healthy. His impeccable command is based on him being in terrific physical condition, and I’m worried that the nagging injuries that keep slowing him down will take their toll on him sooner rather than later.

Keefe: The Rangers’ rotation isn’t necessarily what it has been the last two years. But as a Yankees fan, with Andy Pettitte still rehabbing his ankle, CC Sabathia hitting the DL with an elbow problem that appears to be much more serious than Joe Girardi led on to believe and Phil Hughes and Ivan Nova being hit or miss right now, that leaves us with Hiroki Kuroda as a reliable starter. (Sorry, Freddy Garcia.) So it looks like if we meet in the ALCS for the second time in three years, it could be an offensive gongshow in two stadiums built for high-scoring games.

And that’s what scares me about the Rangers team. The lineup from top to bottom can go toe-to-toe with the Yankees’, and that’s always been the Yankees’ one advantage. Their mentality since 2004 has always been, you might outpitch us, but we’ll outhit you. And that idea has only turned into one title. Hopefully, CC will be fine, Andy will come back, and I won’t need to pray for A-Rod, Mark Teixeira and Nick Swisher to get timely hits in big spots with runners in scoring position.

As I look up and down the Rangers’ lineup, there’s Ian Kinsler and Andrus and Hamilton and Beltre and Cruz, and Yankee killers Michael Young, and the most-feared power-hitting catcher in the league in Mike Napoli. Over the last decade I had grown used to worrying about the Red Sox and their lineup and when David Ortiz and Manny Ramirez would be due up. There were other guys in their lineup that bothered me, but not to that extent. In the Rangers’ lineup, every guy makes me uneasy and this week at the Stadium (and possibly in the playoffs) that level of discomfort and fear will only rise.

As a Yankees fan, when Teixeira is up, I envision a pop-up. When Swisher is up, I see a called third strike in a full count. When A-Rod’s up, I see a long drive that would have been out in year’s past before his decline. Am I just thinking like this because I know these hitters so well, or are fans like Rangers fans petrified of the Yankees’ lineup? My friends that are Red Sox fans used to tell me they were scared of A-Rod and Gary Sheffield and petrified of Hideki Matsui, and I really only understood the Matsui thinking. Are you scared of the Yankees’ lineup, and which opposing players scare you the most?

Morris: I think the Yankees have an impressive lineup. Other than Robinson Cano, there isn’t one guy who’s having a dominant offensive season, but the Yankees’ lineup is solid from top to bottom, with no real weaknesses (other than maybe third base now that A-Rod is out).

Between the Rangers and Yankees, I think it’s just about a coin flip as to which team is stronger offensively. Like the Yankees, the Rangers are pretty solid top to bottom (with the exception of DH, where Michael Young has been drowning all season), and they have dangerous hitters throughout who can give you the opportunity for a big inning. If I had to pick someone on the Yankees who scares me, it would probably be Cano or Curtis Granderson. Both are quality hitters who (based on just my memory) seem to hit the Rangers well.

Keefe: If the Yankees do what I want them to do then Nick Swisher won’t be playing right field for the Yankees starting in 2013. As an impending free agent and with the Yankees set on staying under the luxury-tax threshold that is ruining my life, it looks like they will save money to make offers to both Robinson Cano and Curtis Granderson. Maybe they will try to bring Ichiro back if he continues to hit and doesn’t show signs of decline in the outfield or on the basepaths. But the one name that is the most intriguing is Josh Hamilton.

I really don’t think the Yankees will make a play for Hamilton, though I have said that about a lot of other big-name free agents that they decided to join and win the bidding on. But I think in Hamilton’s case, with his checkered past and problems with substance abuse, New York City doesn’t seem like the best place for someone who can’t have more than $20 in their wallet (even though that won’t even get you a sandwich and a subway fare in the city, let alone a beer) and for someone who needs another adult to shadow them. I can easily see Hamilton enjoying the short porch in right field if he were to call Yankee Stadium his home starting in 2012, but I don’t think it’s realistic.

How badly do you want Hamilton to remain a Ranger? And if he’s not back in Texas, where else could you see him ending up?

Morris: I’d like Hamilton to stay in Texas, but I’m expecting him to leave after the season. The biggest concern that I have with Hamilton is that I don’t think he’s going to age well. He has an extensive injury history which is worrisome, but his approach is also a big red flag. His tendency to swing at almost anything, whether it’s a ball or a strike, has generally served him well thus far, but it’s not the sort of approach which appears to be sustainable for a player as he gets older and he starts to slow down.

As great as Hamilton is now, I fear that his decline phase will be steep, and I don’t think that he’s someone you want to commit big money to for his mid- and late-30s. Eight years, $200 million is the number that gets bandied about, and he’s not going to get that in Texas.

I thought before the season that the Dodgers made sense, given that they are committed to spending money and want big names. I’m less certain that the Dodgers will be players on Hamilton, given that they’ve locked up Andre Ethier, and I don’t know that they want to have $60 million per year committed long term to a Matt Kemp-Josh Hamilton-Andre Ethier outfield, but I still think they’ll at least kick the tires. The Mariners, who have lost Ichiro, would also seem to be a good fit.

Keefe: I didn’t want Ryan Dempster on the Yankees and with less than an hour to go in the trade deadline it looked like the Yankees might be the favorite to land him and some places were reporting that in fact the Yankees were close to getting a deal done with the Cubs. But like Cliff Lee, your Rangers stepped in and traded for Dempster. But unlike Cliff Lee, I wasn’t disappointed that the Rangers stepped in.

So far out of Dempster you have seen why I didn’t want the Yankees to trade for an aging NL pitcher in his start against the Angels, but you have also seen why the Rangers made the move for him in his start against the Red Sox. I’m not really sure which Dempster you will see over the final six weeks or so of the season and the postseason, but I can only hope on Monday night at the Stadium, we get to see the Ryan Dempster that showed up to the AL and got rocked by the Angels.

What was your initial reaction to the Rangers getting Dempster? Were you happy with the move?

Morris: My initial reaction to learning we had traded for Dempster was mixed. The Rangers were in a position where they could have used a solid starter, but I didn’t see it as a need, and was concerned that the cost in terms of prospects would be too high.

But when I learned that the Rangers had given up just Christian Villanueva and Kyle Hendricks, and that Neftali Feliz was going to undergo Tommy John surgery and thus wouldn’t re-join the rotation, I was happy with the move. I would have liked a No. 1, but the price for would have been prohibitive.

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A Bleacher Creature in Toronto

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Put these things together:

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

2. Metal lunchboxes.

3. Our good friend, the smiling sun.

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

“SLED FELL THROUGH ICE, DROWNED.”

“ENTANGLED IN TRENCHING MACHINE.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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