Daily Archives: June 8, 2010

The Yankees are 8-1 against the Orioles this year, and the O’s have scored an average of just 2.2 runs in those nine games. The Yankees swept the O’s last week in the Bronx, part of a ten-game Orioles’ losing streak during which the O’s scored an average of 1.6 runs per game against their opponent’s 6.6. That streak was snapped on Sunday as the O’s pulled out a 4-3, 11-inning victory over the Red Sox.

The only change the O’s have made since leaving the Bronx is that they finally fired manager Dave Trembley, replacing him with third-base coach Juan Samuel on an interim basis. I always thought the knock on Trembley’s predecessor Sam Perlozzo was that his team would lie down on him late in the season, but that trend continued under Trembley. This year they never stood up despite being expected to finally show some signs of life. It’s wasn’t Trembley’s fault that the only members of the lineup who are hitting are 32-year-olds Ty Wigginton and Luke Scott or that Brian Roberts got hurt, but then there’s nothing to credit Trembley with either. Trembley’s winning percentage had dropped in each of his three seasons despite the perception that the team was improving its talent level. It was time to make a change, but don’t expect the team to rally around Samuel, who had been coaching third-base for the O’s since 2006.

When the Yankees began their current stretch of patsy opponents, commenter OldYanksFan suggested that the Yankees should really aim to win 12 of their 16 games against the Indians, Orioles, Blue Jays, and Astros. Thus far they are 7-3, but I think it’s entirely within reason to expect them to take five of their next six against Baltimore and Houston and not out of the question to expect them to sweep their way through the weekend, particularly given that they won’t be facing Roy Oswalt when the Astros come to town. That work begins tonight as Phil Hughes, who aced his last two starts, the last coming against the O’s, looks to keep hard-luck Kevin Millwood winless on the season.

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Self-Portrait, By Lucian Freud (1985)

Stephen Strasburg makes his Major League debut tonight. Over at SI.com, Joe Posnanski tells us what it all means while Cliff analyzes the debuts of some other hyped phenoms.

I remember this one:

Dwight Gooden
Team: New York Mets
Opponent: Houston Astros
Date: April 7, 1984
Line: 5 IP, 3 H, 1 R, 0 HR, 2 BB, 5 K, W

The fifth-overall pick in the 1982 draft out of Tampa’s Hillsborough High School, Gooden struck out 300 men in 191 innings in A-ball in his full-season debut in 1983, and in 1984, he broke camp with the Mets as a 19-year-old who had never pitched as high as Double-A. Gooden was sharp in his debut and, after a hiccup in his second start (3 1/3 IP, seven hits and six runs, all earned, while taking the loss against the Cubs), he went on to enjoy one of the best starts to a pitching career in major league history. In 1984, Gooden won the Rookie of the Year award on the strength of a 17-9 record, 2.60 ERA, and a league-leading 276 strikeouts (in 218 innings!). In 1985, he won the NL Cy Young award and the major league pitching triple crown, leading the majors in wins (24 against just four losses), ERA (1.53, second only to Bob Gibson’s 1.12 in 1968 since the arrival of the live-ball era in 1920) and strikeouts (268). Things went downhill from there, in part because of the 744 2/3 innings Gooden threw over three seasons prior to his 22nd birthday, but also because they couldn’t go up. The impossibly high expectations Gooden created for himself led to a vicious cycle of self-destructive behavior including alcohol and drug addictions which continue to disrupt his life to this day.

My mom has always loved music. She loves to sing and whistle (and even hum). Ma is game, too. She’ll listen to rock n roll, soul music, funk, jazz, and her “classic music.” But she’s never been a big record-buyer. When I was growing up, she had some Judy Collins records and Simon and Garfunkel lps, and of course, her Jacques Brel albums. Oh, how she looooved Jacques Brel. And we had an Edith Piaf record, too.

Most French-speaking peoples of my mom’s generation revered Edith Piaf.

I always think of Edith Piaf–of my mom singing in French, of Nuke Laloosh mistaking Piaf for a “crazy Spanish singer” in “Bull Durham”–whenever I hear Rice Pilaf. Edith Pilaf?

Sounds good, tastes good. Sometimes the French know what they are doing…

[Photo Credit: Janet is Hungry]

Guest Writer: John Schulian

It is a sign of the times that our movie heroes no longer go traipsing off to Mexico to scratch their itch for unlikely nobility, filthy lucre, or good old-fashioned trouble. The show-me-your-papers crowd in Arizona would have us believe there are so many illegals heading north that even celluloid mercenaries looking south of the border better stay home lest they be trampled. Myself, I’d suggest that the abundance of lead being slung in Mexico’s drug wars makes telling stories about brave yanquis, especially the contemporary variety, about as plausible as having Madonna sing with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

Once, however, the land of Villa welcomed Humphrey Bogart so he could die a greed head’s death in “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre” and Robert Mitchum, fresh out of a very real jail, as he tracked down a missing Army payroll in “The Big Steal.” You should know about “The Magnificent Seven,” of course, just as you should “The Wild Bunch”: two classic Westerns that sprang from the idea of American bad men finding something good inside them under Mexican skies, the former ending with a triumphant ride out of town, the latter with a fireball of dark glory. And then there is a hugely entertaining Western that is too often forgotten, “The Professionals,” which is about early 20th Century mercenaries who are crazy brave but not stupid. Four of them, to be exact: Burt Lancaster, Lee Marvin, Robert Ryan, and Woody Strode, each possessing more testosterone by himself than there is in all of Hollywood today.

Lancaster was a former circus acrobat who did his own stunts and, legend has it, could handle himself in a street fight. Marvin fought his way through World War II as a marine in the Pacific, and, with a mug like his, he must have put up his dukes a few times as a civilian, too. Ryan boxed in college (and was nothing less than splendid in the fight racket noir “The Set-Up”). Strode played football at UCLA, broke the NFL’s color line (alongside college teammate Kenny Washington), wrestled professionally, died a righteous death in “Spartacus,” and, though he was 52 when “The Professionals” was released in 1966, looked like he was made of steel cable.

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Over at River Ave Blues, Mike Axisa takes a look at Cito Culver, the Yankees first-round pick:

I’m not a big fan of the pick; it’s definitely a reach. For what it’s worth, Oppenheimer called it an “easy decision.” Whenever a guy’s best tool is his throwing arm … well it’s always a cause for concern because you’d like the other skills to be refined. It’s not an indefensible pick though; there’s nothing wrong with selecting a premium up-the-middle athlete that will stay there for the next decade-plus.

I’ve seen some people quick to dub this another C.J. Henry pick, but the only similarities between the two are that they’re African American shortstops taken out of high school. Henry was more of a hacker who projected to hit for power but not average, and wasn’t guaranteed to stay at short. Culver’s basically the opposite.

There were definitely better players on the board, and so it’s not the best pick they could have made. No need to declare this one a bust yet. The last thing prospects provide is instant gratification. Frankie Piliere noted that Culver got huge grades late in the year, so he peaked at the right time.

Over at Was Watching, Steve Lombardi isn’t impressed either:

…Today, with their first pick in the 2010 draft, the 32nd overall pick, the Yankees selected Cito Culver – probably two or three (or maybe four?) rounds earlier than he should have been selected – passing on talent like Anthony Ranaudo, Bryce Brentz, Ryan LaMarre and Seth Blair (just to name a few).

Considering all this, and then factoring in that the Yankees had screwed up their first three picks in the draft just about every year from 1998 through 2008, I have to wonder about what’s going on in the Yankees front office with respect to handling the draft? (“What about 2009?” some may say? Well, the jury is still out on that one.)

At some point, Damon Oppenheimer – and his bosses, Mark Newman and Brian Cashman – have to be held accountable for the way they’ve been wasting the Yankees “prime” picks, draft after draft, no?