Daily Archives: July 17, 2008

The Yankees open the second half of the 2008 baseball season with a 50-45 (.526) record. They are in third place in the AL East, six games behind the division-leading Red Sox and 5.5 games behind the second-play Rays. In the Wild Card picture, they rank fourth behind the Rays, Twins (3 games), and A’s (1 game), and just a half game ahead of the Texas Rangers.

A year ago, they were in a nearly identical position. Ninety-six games into the 2007 season, the Yankees had a 50-46 (.521) record, were in second place in the East, 7.5 games behind the Red Sox, and were in fourth place in the Wild Card race, 6.5 games behind the Indians, four games behind the Mariners, and a half game behind the Twins.

From that point, the 2007 Yankees went 44-22 (.667) to come within two games of the eventual World Champion Red Sox in the East and take the Wild Card by six games over the Mariners, who went 37-28 (.569) over the same span.

The Yankees weren’t supposed to find themselves in this sort of spot again, and will have a much more difficult time digging themselves out of it this year due to potentially season-ending injuries to Chien-Ming Wang and Hideki Matsui and the continued lineup shuffling required by Jorge Posada’s sore shoulder. Here’s a look at what went right and wrong in the first half of this season for the Yankees, and what we might expect to see from them in the second half.

(more…)

Here’s the rumor. Would be something if it were true. But I’ll go with fugazi.

Update: Would you believe, Richie Sexson?

Oy and veh. Better ‘n a Betemit I suppose.

From Johnny’s last show, Ladies and Gents…The Great Flydini.

We all know about pitchers who can write: Pat Jordan, Jim Brosnan, Jim Bouton. But there are also a handful of writers who can pitch too. Historian Glenn Stout used to pitch in an over 30 league. Kevin Kerrane pitched semi-pro ball too. And veteran New York sports writer Bob Klapisch has been pitching since he was in college (he used to pitch against Ron Darling when he was at Columbia and Darling was at Yale). For the past couple of years I’ve been meaning to go watch Klap pitch in a game, thinking it would make for an interesting story.

Unfortunately, Klap’s playing career came to an abrupt end last week when he was struck in the right eye by a ground ball. In a recent e-mail, Klap explained what happened:

I was pitching Thursday night in Parsippany NJ for the Morris Mariners, one of the two semi-pro teams I play for. (Hackensack Troasts is the other). Batter hit a hard comebacker which took a wicked bounce over my glove. It was one of those old-fashioned configurations, with a bowling alley-like strip of dirt connected the pitching mound to home plate. So the ball was traveling on dirt, not grass, and must’ve hit a rock. It flew up towards my face, like a stone skipping on a lake. Caught me flush in the right eye.

Had to have emergency surgery that night. It was just my right eye that was damaged. I can do everything (read, write, play with the kids) with the left. The right suffered a partially detached retina, and damaged cornea, which will require a transplant. I also have multiple fractures which will require plastic surgery. The whole process starts on Monday when I go under for repair of the retina. After 3-6 months, the doctors say I’ll have my vision back. Worst case, 20/200, best case 20/50. It sure beats the alternative, which is what I’m experiencing now – a black curtain over the right side of my face. Very strange.

My baseball career is over, so my goal is to play catch in the backyard with my kids. I am determined to make that happen.

Man, talk about a bad break. What a humbling way for the universe to tell you it’s time to stop playing ball. Klap does seem to be taking it exceedingly well, however. And he’s one tough cookie.

Still, it must be a scary spot for him to be in. So here’s sending best wishes to Klap. Let’s hope that his surgeries are a success. Hang in there, Klap, you’re the man.

Can I Kick it?  Yes, you can!

Last night I was on the uptown platform at 103rd street. I had just missed a train. There was a tall, dark lady cop on the platform. I said hello as I passed her. Then, I started making small talk, about staying up late for the All-Star game. I asked if she ever worked up at the Stadium and she said that she did and that it was a fun beat.

"Unless, they are playing the Red Sox. Too much alcohol. Then we have to take people out."

She didn’t mean escort them out, she meant take them out. By any means necessary. She looked up the platform as we spoke and said there are usually around thirty arrests when the Sox are in town.

I held out my hand and introduced myself.

"My name is Jack," she said and pointed to her badge. It read, "Jack." Not Jackie, not Jacklyn. Jack.

Yes, M’am.

Jack went on to tell me that when she works the Stadium she is stationed where the visiting players’ wives sit. She said the wives tell her how much safer it is at the Stadium than in other parks around the league. Go figure that, right?

"They told me that teams generally have to bring their own security with them at other places. Not here. Not since Steinbrenner adopted a zero-tolerance policy."

Jack then told me, with considerable pride, about how quickly two fans were bounced on two nights earlier during the home run derby. It was when Josh Hamilton hit one into the black seats and two kids chased after it. I was watching on TV and recall seeing a cop put his hands around one of the kids’ neck.

Jack shook her head and smiled.

She said that the cops working inside the Stadium are not on the job, they are paid privately "by Steinbrenner."

Hey, I’d feel pretty safe if Jack had my back. Man, it sure ain’t like the old days no more.