Daily Archives: September 13, 2008

Mannish Boy.

Barry Zito is the focus of Pat Jordan’s latest profile for the New York Times Magazine. Another stellar job by Jordan. I always figured Zito was a superficial guy, a pretty boy phony, but he comes off as an interesting dude:

Zito told me his pitching problems were caused by the fact that he hadn’t been himself the last few years.

"I wanted to be more ‘professional,’ " he said. "This new guy. Because of the Contract, I wanted people to know I was serious about pitching, not this flaky guy. I allowed the seriousness of things to creep into my mind. The city. The Contract. The fans. My new teammates. I wasn’t a blue-collar Oakland guy anymore."

…He was particularly stunned by the vehemence with which the media and fans greeted news of the Contract. And then he was stunned by the fans’ booing his failed pitching. "Actually, I think the San Francisco fans have been pretty good to him," Righetti said. "If he was in New York, the fans would be off the chart." But Zito wasn’t used to being booed and criticized. His flaky persona had deflected such criticism for years, as if people felt it was unfair to be too harsh on such an innocent sprite. But he’s not a sprite anymore, and his critics are no longer so forgiving. Which is why he has assumed a new persona: the abused guy who can no longer be himself with people. "But it requires so much energy to be inauthentic," Zito said. Which is the point. Zito was never truly "authentic." The free-spirited kid was always something of a construct. Now that he’s a man, it’s time for "serious things," like the apparently premature demise of a once-brilliant career. This is what Zito is struggling with. But how to rewrite the narrative of his life?

"I never thought I was invincible at everything, just baseball," Zito said. "At 30, I became aware of why things happened." He now saw his parents’ psychobabble — "Don’t expect to struggle" — as something that could lead not only to awareness but confusion. "Zen is a double-edged sword," he said. "It guarantees nothing. When I went 11-1, it worked. Next year it won’t. Zen helps you solve some problems, but it’s better at creating problems. Thinking too much is good for life, but not functional for baseball." He’s searching for that mind-set all great, intelligent pitchers have. Compartmentalize. Complexity for real life, simplicity for baseball.

Can an athlete be too smart for his own good? I think so. Being bright might make a jock a more well-rounded person, but also less of a performer. Reminds me of Billy Beane in Moneyball, realizing that he would never be a great player after rooming with Lenny Dykstra who was "dumb" in all the right ways.

The wife and I have been painting the apartment.  We’ve spent the past two weekends painting.  We.  That’s code for me.  Whenever Em says "we," I crack up thinking about The Big Lebowski, you know, the editorial "we," because I know she’s talking about me. 

Okay, I’m not the only one doing work, it hasn’t been all me, she’s been helping plenty.  Which doesn’t mean I’ve been behaving myself.  I’ve been dutiful but sullen.  In fact, I’ve been jerk about the whole thing. I’ve been doing the job, but painting is just one of those things that I can’t excited about.  I don’t even feel accomplished when I’ve finished, just relieved. 

Today, the bedroom and my little office were on the painting schedule and I was determined to be, if not cheerful, then at least pleasant.  My mom and step-father came down to help out.  When we cracked open the light green paint for the bedroom it was clear that we had made a mistake.  It was too yellow.  After throwing some up on one wall, an executive decision was made and Em headed back to the paint store.

I painted my office and listened to Mike Mussina and the Yanks stink up the jernt against the Rays.  7-1 was the final.  Em returned with a better shade of green and hours later when we called it quits for the night, the Yanks had a 1-0 lead on the Rays in the nightcap.  Then Sidney Ponson gave up a grand slam and Emily started getting the shakes because after all of our hard work, the new green wasn’t working for her either.  In fact, it was making her nauseous, sick because not only didn’t she like the color but she was guilt-ridden at the prospect of having to do it again, and wasting my time, my parents time, and our money.

"How could this happen?"  she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

I was not a jerk.  When it comes down to it, it takes so much energy to be angry and resentful, isn’t it easier and more satisfying to be a good guy?  I soothed her and told her everything was going to be fine.  Yeah, I hate painting but it’s just paint.  It’s just a weekend afternoon.  It’s not that big a deal.  

The Yanks scrapped back.  Derek Jeter had three hits in both games, a fine day that was treated like Reggie Jackson’s three-dinger World Serious game by Michael Kay on the YES broadcast (Kay called Jeter’s three single, one walk performance in the night game "a tour de force").  Wilson Betemit homered and Xavier Nady singled home the go-ahead run.  The fans were lively once the Yanks got on the board, saving their boos for Alex Rodriguez who made outs in his final two at-bats with runners on base.  

Mariano Rivera, jeez, remember him, allowed a run in the ninth but earned the save and the Yanks came away with a split.  6-5 was the final.

A nice way to end a long day.  Still, looks like I’ve got more painting to do.          

It rained all night.  I stopped by a couple of record stores downtown after work and picked up a selection of custom-made cds from some friends.  Then I met my old pal Anthony Pick in front of Katz’s on Houston street.  But I didn’t feel like chicken soup so we walked south into the heart of of the hippish lower east side.  After we crossed Delancy, a bearded man in a suit asked us, "Are either or you Jewish?"  He was looking for recruits I guess. 

Anthony set him up and said, "My father’s Jewish." 

"Mine too," I said.

The man replied, "What about your mother?" 

"Sicilian," said Anthony. 

"Sicilian?" the man said.

"My mom’s Belgian Catholic."

And with that, he lost interest, and Anthony and I laughed as we walked on.

Today gives two games, the first in the afternoon, and then the make-up for last night’s game will be tonight.

It’s supposed to rain on-and-off all weekend, but right now, it is sunny in the Bronx.

And you know what they say about the sun:

Let’s Go Yan-Kees.

By David Pinto

My fondest memories from Yankee Stadium both happened during a double header on July 2, 1978. Detroit was in town at a time when teams still scheduled twin bills on holidays. In game one, the Tigers shutout the Yankees for six innings, leading 2-0. Ron Guidry held a 12-0 record at that point, and it looked like his winning streak might end. In the bottom of the seventh, however, Gary Thomasson was on base with two out and Fred Stanley due up. We were sitting in the grandstand behind first base when suddenly a huge cheer went up from the third base stands. We wondered what happened, and then Mickey Rivers’s head popped out of the dugout. Mick the quick came off the disable list that day, having not played since June 16th. He walked gingerly (as he always did) to the plate, and ripped a line drive to right field. Mickey Stanley leaped but didn’t make the catch. While the ball was bounding away, Stanley went over to argue with the ump (I assume about fan interference). Rivers, with his blazing speed, circles the bases to tie the game! The crowd goes wild and the Yankees go on to win the game 3-2, extending Guidry’s win streak to 13.

In the night cap, Graig Nettles batted third, coming up with two men on in the third. Jim Slaton came in high and tight with a brushback throw, and Graig fell to the ground avoiding a hit by pitch.

My immediate thought was that Slaton made a huge mistake. I had seen Nettles knocked down before, and he tended to respond very constructively to brushbacks, getting a hit. Sure enough, Nettles launched a three-run homer for the first score of the game. That’s the way to deal with a knock down, and the Yankees went on to a 5-3 win and a sweep of the double header.

David Pinto blogs about baseball at BaseballMusings.com.