Daily Archives: December 21, 2008

Blogs are poor excuses for street corners.

I’m always being reminded of that in my neighborhood.

“Baseball blogging doesn’t take any courage,” my friend Javier was telling the guys gathered outside the bodega near the corner of Gerard Avenue and East 157th Street. “Ballplayers have the courage to put it on the line every day in front of a million people. If you don’t have the guts to toss your opinions around on the street and risk getting a fist in the face then you shouldn’t write them on a blog.”

“Agreed,” I said.

“I wasn’t asking some sissy blogger,” Javier snapped.

Nobody ever asks me, but…

I love grown men who spit sunflower seeds, chew bubblegum and answer to: Jete, Mo, A-Rod, Josey, Domo, Mattie, Melk, CC, A.J., Swish, Brew, X-Man and The Wanger.

If Joba Chamberlain was a banker, they would call him Justin Chamberlain instead of Joba the Hutt.

I know most people doubt Orlando Hernandez these days. He is old and hasn’t been healthy enough to pitch in a long time. But I still believe El Duque can do anything.

The best part of the World Baseball Classic is getting to see the Cubans play.

It seems like there are more Americans backing out of the World Baseball Classic every day. The players’ concerns need to be addressed if this tournament is ever going to be what it should be.

Jason Whitlock of The Kansas City Star is one of the best sports columnists in the country. I just wish he covered more baseball.

Joe Posnanski covers a lot of baseball for The Kansas City Star. He also does fine work for Sports Illustrated and on his blog.

The Kansas City Star deserves the best writers since that’s where Ernest Hemingway got his start.

There used to be a great sportswriter in New York named Mike Lupica. Whatever happened to that guy?

Josh Hamilton made year-end lists in GQ and Esquire. He also has a new book out called “Beyond Belief: Finding the Strength to Come Back.” He had a fabulous season and deserves everything that comes his way.

Milton Bradley had a pretty good season, too.

According to some baseball writers, Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens and Sammy Sosa and Rafael Palmeiro may be locked out of the Hall of Fame just like Mark McGwire.

Will there be any reason to still call it the Hall of Fame if all that talent joins Pete Rose on the outside looking in?

I say the Yankees are the team to beat.

The Crown Diner on East 161st Street has the best chocolate donuts in the world.

Two of my favorite places to watch baseball are Falcon Park in Auburn and Dunn Field in Elmira. And I will always love the long-gone MacArthur Stadium in Syracuse and the soon-to-be-gone Yankee Stadium in the Bronx. But the best place to see a ballgame is wherever you’re watching one that day.

I think Mark Teixeira is a great talent, but Manny Ramirez has ripped my heart out so many times that I wouldn’t mind having him on my side for a change. Part of it is that he grew up just across the Harlem River in Washington Heights and the rest of it is the big bat he swings. I’ll carry any baggage as long as he carries that lumber.

Tony Pena will bring a lot more to this team as the bench coach. And I’m not just saying that because I like the Tony Pena codfish-salad special at El Nuevo Caridad in Washington Heights.

My best friend Michael Allen recently gave me a copy of “Nobody Asked Me, But… The World of Jimmy Cannon.” I’ve never owned the book, but have checked it out of the library about a million times. That gift will save me a pile of money in late fees.

Blogs will always be poor excuses for street corners, but I told Javier that it would be warmer in front of my computer than on the corner of Gerard Avenue and East 157th Street.

“You online guys are real sissies,” Javier said. “But since no one punched your lights out I guess it’s okay to blog it.”

Snow and then rain has covered New York since Friday morning and I’ve been home sick since Thursday. Yesterday, Em and I went off to get our new kitten, Mo Green. Into the country snow. The senior cat in our crib, the Divine Mrs. Tashi, is none too thrilled, as you can imagine. And Mo is just as cute as he is wild.

Still not feeling too well, I slept on the couch, next to a little box we’d set up for Mo, last night. From 3-5 am he was a wild man. Ah, the joys of parenthood. I’ll have a picture of the little bugger up in the coming days.

I did catch the CC, AJ press conference the other day and came away amped about next season for the first time. I think CC has an easy personality, he’s got some charm. What’s not to like? Then, the fan in me, tore loose as I realized that the Yankees’ best starting pitcher is a six-foot-seven brother. I mean, his size alone is unique, but how many good black starting pitchers have the Yankees ever had? Al Downing, Rudy May, Doc Gooden. It’s not that many. Which isn’t to say that race is a reason to like or dislike a guy. I’m just noting the facts. I wonder how many city kids that normally don’t care about baseball will be wearing 52 jerseys next year.

CC is a new-age pitching version of Darryl Dawkins “Chocolate Thunder.”

I thought it was fascinating to hear Brian Cashman disclose that last winter the Yankees were either going to deal Hughes, et al to the Twins for Johan Santana, or they were going to wait and hope to nab Sabathia this winter in the free-agent market. They rolled the dice, got the situation they wanted, and then signed their man. That is satisfying.

I was almost even more impressed by Burnett. Now, he’s a guy that I’ve loved rooting against for years. The charge against him–he’s all talent, no polish, a million dollar arm with a ten cent head–was something I could never see past, even when he shut the Yankees down time and time again. But in the press conference, and then later to reporters, Burnett attributed much of his injury history to arrogance. He loved his “stuff” so much, he said, that he’d try and throw every pitch 98 miles an hour. If you got it, flaunt it, was his motto. He didn’t know how to prepare, physcially or mentally, for a long season. But he remembers making the playoffs in ’03 and not being able to pitch.

Burnett gave Roy Halladay a lot of credit with turning him into a pitcher not just a chucker. He sounded like a guy who has finally figured it out for himself. Now whether or not he’ll continue to harness his gift (and if he does, he has the best pure stuff of anyone on the staff), or will he be hurt all the time and continue to be uneven? Time will only tell. But for me, it’s going to be easy to pull for him, at least at the outset, than I had imagined.

Burnett was almost deferential to Joe Girardi, the Yankee manager, who told reporters that CC and AJ were his Chirstmas presents this year. “No, I’m sure I’ll get a few gifts,” he added so as not to offend his wife. He went on to say that he is aware that the Yankees’ playoff run came to an end on his watch and he was eager to start a new streak. You could see how geeked he was with the new talent he’s got to work with and who can blame him?

When it’s all said and done, provided everyone is healthy, the Yankees 2009 starting pitching staff is going to look like a red, hot, shiny muscle car. Will it run like a GTO or an Edsel, that’s the question.