
As far as we know the Yanks are waiting it out with Johnny Damon. But could they be sitting on the dock of a Bay too? Or waiting for a boffo Holliday gift?
One never knows…do one?

As far as we know the Yanks are waiting it out with Johnny Damon. But could they be sitting on the dock of a Bay too? Or waiting for a boffo Holliday gift?
One never knows…do one?
I said How’d you like the show? She said, I was very amused.

Over at SI.com, Cliff takes a look at the Lackey signing:
The Red Sox rotation behind Jon Lester and Josh Beckett struggled mightily in 2009. In the 98 games not started by Lester or Beckett this past season, Red Sox starters went 36-36 with a 5.40 ERA, and 1.57 WHIP. With Clay Buchholz having emerged as a legitimate mid-rotation starter in August and Daisuke Matsuzaka having made a strong comeback in mid-September, the Red Sox already had hope for improvement in their rotation heading into 2010, but the addition of Lackey, easily the best starting pitcher in a weak free agent market, ramps that improvement up from modest to drastic. That Lackey might be only the third-best starter in the Red Sox’s rotation is a testament to the depth and strength his signing gives Boston’s staff. Indeed, the Red Sox’s rotation suddenly looks like the best in baseball’s best division, at least for the moment.
Having posted a good-but-not great 3.79 ERA (118 ERA+) in just 339 2/3 innings over the past two seasons, the latter figure due to his starting both seasons on the disabled list with arm aches, including elbow inflammation this past spring, Lackey is more of a No. 2 starter than a proper ace, but that makes him particularly well cast as the No. 3 in Boston. Concerns about those DL stays linger, but Lackey returned in mid-May in both 2008 and 2009 and pitched into the playoffs without reoccurrence of his discomfort both years, throwing a cumulative 196 innings in 30 starts between the regular and postseasons in ’09. In the five seasons prior to 2008, he averaged 210 2/3 innings a year in the regular season alone, establishing a reputation as a horse that his early-season aches have yet to fully undermine. He also arrives in Boston as a strong postseason performer, having famously pitched and won Game 7 of the World Series as a rookie in 2002 and having bettered his career regular season ERA in his 12 postseason starts.
If I were writing copy for the Yankees, I would probably be contractually obligated to refer to the “Yankee legacy” of Chien-Ming Wang and Hideki Matsui, and even Brian Bruney. But I’m not, so instead, like Alex earlier, I’ll just wonder aloud about if, how, and for how long the various exiting Yanks will be remembered.
Wang and Matsui obviously won’t be forgotten anytime soon – both made huge contributions to the Bombers, and had fascinating cultural implications as well (I think each, in their way, helped affirm every New Yorker’s belief that the world does in fact revolve around us). It seems that technically Matsui didn’t quite earn his salary – but in a metaphoric sense, he definitely did. And Alex already touched on the fabled porn collection and the excellent at-bat music, but I also think of the time Matsui broke his wrist on a freakish sliding-catch-gone-wrong, back in 2006. He managed to throw the ball in before collapsing in pain with his wrist held at a gruesome angle, but no sooner was he back from the hospital than he apologized, profusely, to his teammates, the Yankees, and his fans. For having a broken wrist. Try to imagine any American player ever doing that. Hell, try to imagine Ichiro doing that. Yes, I will miss Matsui… and to a slightly lesser extent I will miss his translator, Roger Kahlon, who (now it can be said) is one good-looking dude.
I’m not sure how much to eulogize Chien-Ming Wang’s New York career – because, who knows? He may yet be back, if not next season then somewhere down the road. He’s still young enough that if his shoulder actually heals properly, he could pitch for years and years. That’s the optimistic view of course, but even if he’s never again a top-flight starter, Wang’s isn’t a truly sad story: he threw two-plus excellent Major League seasons, which is a lot more than most people get to do, and became a truly massive and beloved celebrity in his home country, which ditto. But still.

Anyway, it seems pretty clear to me that in ten, twenty, or thirty years Yankee blogs (or whatever has replaced them) will still mention Matsui and Wang from time to time, but I wonder about another suddenly ex-Yank, Brian Bruney. I wrote enough game summaries featuring the guy that I’m certain I’ll remember the name, barring any degenerative brain diseases, plus I spoke to him a few times during my brief tenure in the clubhouse. How often will I think about him, though, as the years go by? And what about the average fan? The Yankees were able to snatch Bruney from the Diamondbacks because Arizona felt he had some attitude problems, was the word on the street back in ’06, and whether or not he ever really overcame those I couldn’t say; he had a bit of a meathead look about him, but a sensitive streak too.
Bruney had good games and bad, but it’s hard for me to think of any really iconic moments – there’s not really a Bruney equivalent of Chien-Ming Wang’s virtuoso performance against the Mets at the Stadium, or Matsui’s playoff heroics and walk-off homers. Such is the nature of middle relief, I suppose. I can’t pretend to have any strong feelings about the guy, but I spent so many cumulative hours watching him pitch that maybe I should. Is there anything bittersweet about the fact that he will likely be greeted among baseball fans, upon reemerging from the swamps of memory, mostly with indifference?
What do you guys think – in 2039 or so, will there be any spring days when your fancy lightly turns to thoughts of Brian Bruney?