Back in 2001, I wondered whether or not Andy Pettitte lost Jesus somewhere between New York and Arizona. He lost his ability to execute pitches–in fact, he was tipping pitches, which led to a Game 6 beat-down by the D-Backs. Painful memory.
None of those old Diamonbacks are around anymore, at least not in Arizona, but the current version showed last night that they too can crush the ball. Time for a vintage performance from Pettitte.
Let’s Go Yan-Kees!
[Picture by Bags]
Detail of a New York City Splat Shot by Bags
It’s been almost nine years since he blew Game 7 of the Whirled Serious out in Arizona…It’s astonishing to consider how great Rivera has been since that loss.
He’s 40 now, and yeah, Mariano’s still pretty damn good.
2001: Thus Yawned Zarathustra
Before you freak out, let me assure you that I’m not saying 2001: A Space Odyssey is a bad movie. I’m not saying it’s not well-made, beautifully crafted, and culturally significant. I’m not saying it doesn’t have interesting, thoughtful things to say about human consciousness and technology and the nature of intelligent life.
I’m just saying I don’t like it.
I tried, I really did. I watched it in high school, and was ashamed to find myself bored. I watched it on the big screen in college, as a film major, and fell asleep. I watched it later in college – this time with the help of substances my friend was sure would help me “get it” – and fell asleep much faster. After loving Dr. Strangelove and Lolita I watched it one more time, just to make sure, because I felt my failure to embrace or even tolerate 2001 was one of my greatest failings as a film major.
I still don’t like it.
Partly this is just personal preference – the movies I love most tend to have involving, well-drawn characters and great dialogue, and even Stanley Kubrick’s most ardent admirers surely can’t claim that for this movie. I’m not especially visual, so while I can love and appreciate great cinematography or camerawork when I see it, movies like this (or for example, Solaris) which are almost entirely about their images just don’t tend to grab me, through no fault of their own.
But my issues with 2001 run deeper: I can think of very, very few films that take themselves this seriously. And there’s nothing wrong with being serious about art, but in my view 2001 crosses the line into pompous pretension early on and never makes it back. Any movie that begins with the chyron “THE DAWN OF MAN,” and is not a Mel Brooks comedy, is unlikely to hit the mark for me.
Can I remind you that this movie leads off with fifteen minutes of people in monkey suits hopping around and screeching. Fifteen minutes. God forgive me, but rewatching it today on YouTube in preparation for this post, all I could think of was the Star Wars Holiday Special and its opening 20 minutes, which are nearly entirely in Wookie, sans subtitles.
Here’s a childhood favorite…
My brother loved this one…
Nathan Denette/Associated Press
So if you’re just waking up and wondering how things went with the Yankees while you were sleeping, I don’t have a lot of good news to report. It all started out okay, as A.J. Burnett retired the first two Arizona hitters relatively quickly, prompting Michael Kay to wonder aloud if Burnett would be able to have a 1-2-3 first inning, which would be his first in nine starts. Justin Upton ended the suspense almost immediately by rocketing a 430-foot home run to straight-away center field. But that was only the beginning. Following Upton’s blast, five more hitters paraded to the plate with these results: single, single, home run, home run, double. Thankfully the game was being played under National League rules, so Burnett was able to stop the damage by striking out pitcher Rodrigo López, but it was already 5-0.
Burnett started the second inning the same as he had the first, by retiring Kelly Johnson and Stephen Drew, but with two outs and the bases empty, the Diamondbacks had him right where they wanted him. Upton singled and promptly came home on a long double by Miguel Montero, bumping the lead to six.
The third inning was uneventful, but Burnett returned to his pattern in the fourth, retiring Johnson and Drew just as he had in the first and second innings. Upton drew a walk, stole second, then came home on a Montero single to put Arizona up by a touchdown. Burnett would retire the next hitter to escape without further damage, but it would still be the end of his night. Four innings pitched, nine hits, seven runs, three home runs — and all of that came after two were out in the inning.
Rodrígo López, meanwhile, was making like Greg Maddux. He kept the Yankee hitters off balance all night long by changing speeds (sound familiar?) and throwing strikes. He was so efficient, in fact, that 12 of the first 15 Yankee hitters started out with strike one, and ten of those twelve were called strikes. Brett Gardner managed four base hits (a slap to left, a drag bunt, and two other infield singles), but everyone else seemed to be just missing all night long. Derek Jeter, Mark Teixeira, and Alex Rodríguez seemed to end each at bat by tossing their bats away in frustration.
Even so, they were able to scratch out three runs to cut the lead to 7-3 while Chad Gaudin held down the fort with two scoreless innings of relief. Chan Ho Park follwed up with a scoreless seventh, and there were two moments when a big hit could’ve cut the lead down to something more manageable, but it never quite happened. CHP ran into some trouble in the eighth, putting two men on with two outs. (Stop me if you think that you’ve heard this one before.) Facing Upton, Park jumped out to an 0-2 advantage, but then quickly worked himself into a full count. Apparently worried about walking Upton, Park instead called timeout and ran into the dugout. He returned with a batter’s tee, set it down on home plate, placed the ball on the tee, and got out of the way. Upton deposited the ball 408 feet away in the left field stands, and the game was over. Diamondbacks 10, Yankees 4.
In other news, the Yankees decided that Phil Hughes will be skipped when his turn comes up this Friday. It’s probably a good thing, since the off-days allow them to move everyone else up without having to pitch on short rest, and it will help keep Hughes’s innings down. But coming when it did, while the team’s worst starter continued to spiral downward, it was troubling to learn that its best starter wouldn’t be back on the mound for more than a week.
