Daily Archives: April 10, 2008

I was on the Upper West Side last night and walked through my father’s old neighborhood. It’s funny how quiet Broadway can get in spots in the high 80s and 90s. It almost feels desolate at times. But when the traffic has ceased temporarily, there is a stillness that falls over the streets, that is welcoming. You can still hear a hum of noise, and then a stray siren in the distance or a horn from the upper floors of a nearby apartment building.

I thought I heard a familiar tune as I crossed 96th street but wasn’t aware of it until I got to the next block and saw a man in a beret and an overcoat playing a flute. Just outside of what used to be the Wiz. And now–I didn’t notice–I still don’ think anything is in that spot, making it even more isolated. There was a Beatles songbook on a music stand in front of him. The flute case was open at his feet (red velvet) and he was playing “And I Love Her,” almost painfully slowly; the mournful sound of his instrument echoed throughout the vicinity. I could still hear him playing, faintly, fading, several blocks away.

I stopped in at Sal and Carmine’s on 101rst street for a couple of slices. Sal and Carmine’s is my childhood pizza jernt–though they used to be in another spot—and I still go back when I can. Sal and Carmine are both old, wrinkled and cranky, but they warm up to you if they know you a little bit. The pizza is too salty but I love it. I prefer my slices lukewarm when I’m on the go. I finished one of them when I got the 103rd street subway station and then started to dog the second one as I waited on the platform for an uptown train. I was thinking of you guys. Dag, I better house this slice, I can’t get on a train with food after my rant this morning. The slices didn’t give off any smell becaue they were cold, but that made the dough doughier and harder to chew. When the train came, I was down to the crust, but my jaw was killing me (only one other thing I can think of can make your jaw ache like that–think Shelley Duvall and Woody in Annie Hall).

Yo, Royals fans must be pleased, huh? And why not? Their team has handled the slow, old guys from New York for two consecutive days and they are going for the sweep tonight. Andy Pettitte is sure to hear it but good from them. He’ll need to get used to it, of course but I doubt he’ll be bothered by it.

I know I sound like a broken record, but I feel good about the bats tonight. Something’s gotta give.

C’mon, let’s get somthing cookin fella, wouldya, hah?

The Bats blog over at the Times is really heating up. There are more posts these days and most of them are either informative or entertaining. Witness Jack Curry running into Vanilla Ice up in Boston recently. Hey, toys are people too you know.

Joe Pos has a link to a new blog by veteran columnist Ian O’Connor. Joe asked Ian a few questions in the post, which I thought you might enjoy:

Joe: You grew up a Yankees fan. What year is your favorite Yankees team?

Ian: ’78, hands down. I’d totally given up, like every other Yankee fan I knew. The Boston Massacre is still my all-time favorite series, that and Brideshead Revisited on PBS. I count Bucky Dent’s homer as the third-best day of my life, right after my wedding day and the birth of my son. In the still of night in a hotel room in the middle of nowhere, I’ll still occasionally do Bill White’s call.

Joe: Who is your favorite Yankees player, first as a fan?

Ian: As a fan, Bobby Murcer. Roy White and Reggie Jackson are right in there, too, Roy for the way he carried himself, Reggie for being Reggie. But Murcer was my guy. No, he didn’t turn out to be the next Mickey Mantle as hoped.* There was just something about the way he carried himself. He’s obviously dealing with a very serious health issue now. I hope he lives forever.

Pos interlude: *You know, Murcer obviously did not become Mantle. But, in context, his 1971 and 1972 seasons are very Mantle-like. Here’s what the numbers look like:

1971: .331/.427/.543, 25 homers, 94 runs, 94 RBIs in 146 games.
1972: .292/.361/.537, 33 homers, 102 runs, 96 RBIs in 153 games.

Excellent numbers. Throw in that Murcer was a very good outfielder (Gold Glove in ’72), and you see a really good player. But the numbers deceive because it was such a low-scoring era. Murcer led the AL in on-base percentage, OPS and runs created in 1971, he led in extra base hits, total bases and runs scored in in 1972, Here’s what those numbers adjust to if you place him in Yankee Stadium in the mid-1950s:

1971: .362/.461/.591, 27 homers, 108 runs, 108 RBIs.
1972: .328/.399/.601, 39 homers, 133 runs, 125 RBIs.

Back to the interview.

Joe: What about your favorite Yankees player as a columnist?

Ian: Bernie Williams. He was always good to me, for whatever reason, and I always loved the dignified grace on the field. He wasn’t Jeter or Rivera, and he wasn’t the greatest defensive center fielder by a longshot. But he was very good when it mattered most, and I found him to be a most thoughtful interview.

Man, I miss Bernie. I really do. You can also check out O’Connor’s web site here.

Thanks to Repoz, I caught Steve Goldman’s NY Sun column today about Jorge Posada:

In Posada’s injury there have been disturbing implications that Girardi could reside among the group of blinkered skippers. Posada’s shoulder strain, which apparently will not force him to the disabled list, was said to interfere with his throwing, not his hitting. The possibility existed, then, that even if the injury prevented him from getting behind the plate for an extended period of time, he would still be able to swing the bat as the designated hitter.

Girardi apparently rejected this suggestion, not wanting to remove Hideki Matsui from his DH role. By extension, this also means that he did not want to move Matsui to left field (a position he has proved healthy enough to play) and bench Johnny Damon. This would have been a tremendous misjudgment. In his career, Damon has rarely been much more than a slightly above-average hitter at the best of times, and a below-average hitter at his worst — and the minimum contribution expected from his bat has only risen as Damon has shifted to left field, more of a power position than center. Last year, major-league left fielders batted .277 AVG/.347 OBA/.453 SLG. The year before they hit .278/.354/.464.

It is doubtful that Damon’s hitting will rise to that level. It did not last year, it has not over the course of his career, and it has not during the present season. Posada, however, should reach those numbers with ease, though he is older and unlikely to repeat last year’s .338 batting average. A .277/.380/.478 hitter, he is more likely to come closer in failing to reach them than Damon. The Yankees would also gain an additional benefit from shifting Damon to the bench, adding the pinch runner and outfield substitute they are lacking.

What do you think?

When I was at the Stadium last week with Jay Jaffe two kids, must have been about six or seven-years old, sat nearby. They were dressed in Yankee gear, down to the batting gloves. I wondered what they would actually remember of Derek Jeter or Mike Mussina when they get older. It is possible to watch so many more games on TV today, I wonder if kids of this generation will have more than fleeting impressions of the stars of their childhood.

Probably not. I don’t know how many times I actually ever saw Willie Stargell or Joe Morgan or Yaz actually play. But to this day, I can imitate their batting stance. It’s like being able to do an imitation of Ed Sullivan or Richard Nixon–it doesn’t necessarily have to be good or even competent to be recognizable. In a simple motion of twirling the bat around and shaking your ass you can instantly become Pops Stargell. It is something that you will be able to do until the day you die.

After work last night I walked from midtown through Central Park and east to the Frozen Ropes hitting cage located on York Avenue and 90th street, a place my father would have called “the ass-end of the planet.” On the way, I passed an apartment building on 89th street between 1rst and 2nd avenues where, one summer in the early 80s, my father subletted an apartment for the summer, the year the USFL folded and I became addicted to Sports Center (Remember the days when Bill “Doran” Doran, Jose “Can You See?” Cruz and Chris Berman’s other quips were something that you actually looked forward to hearing?).

Soon, I was standing over a tee with a ball on it in a mesh cage with a bat in my hands, imitating Don Mattingly’s stance and using one of Mattingly’s bats. Joe Janish, a public relation’s man for Mattingly’s line of “V-Grip” bats, met me at the hitting cage to demonstrate the product. Janish explained that when Mattingly played, he would shave the sides of his bad near the handle so a “V” shape was formed. This helped him keep his knuckles lined up on the bat and prevented him from holding the bat in the palms of his hands, which robbed him of his power and he met the ball. Later, when Mattingly saw his boys struggle with keeping their knuckles lined up properly he had the idea of designing his own line of bats.

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