The so-so Yanks host the crappy Sox this weekend in the Bronx.
Hey, Nuno, try not sucking:
Brett Gardner LF
Derek Jeter SS
Jacoby Ellsbury CF
Mark Teixeira 1B
Carlos Beltran DH
Brian McCann C
Brian Roberts 2B
Ichiro Suzuki RF
Kelly Johnson 3B
Just don’t get swept, fellas.
Never mind the horseshit:
Let’s Go Yank-ees!
Picture by Vittorio Giardino.
A good start from our man Hiroki, fine effort by the bullpen–especially David Robertson who had his breaking ball working–a nice hit-and-run from Francisco Cervelli and Kelly Johnson, a homer by Mark Teixeira, and a big night from Jacoby Ellsbury (3 hits, 4 RBI), gave the Yanks a 5-3 win over the Jays in Toronto.
Today, we can relax.
[Illustration by Adi Granov]
Yanks were on a nice little run, now they’re on a crappy little jag. That’s how it’s been for them and practically everybody else in the majors this year.
Tonight gives our man Hiroki and the hope the Yanks avoid getting swept.
Derek Jeter SS
Jacoby Ellsbury CF
Mark Teixeira 1B
Carlos Beltran DH
Ichiro Suzuki RF
Brian Roberts 2B
Kelly J0hnson 3B
Francisco Cervelli C
Never mind tomorrow:
Let’s Go Yank-ees!
Yanks get another crack at the Jays tonight in Toronto. Nice match-up of soft-throwing control pitchers. If Phelps is off even a little bit they’ll cream him. Buehrle will get tagged if he’s off but he’s been good this year. And the Yankee hitters have not, as a whole, been productive, especially lately.
Brett Gardner LF
Derek Jeter SS
Jacoby Ellsbury CF
Mark Teixeira 1B
Alfonso Soriano RF
Carlos Beltran DH
Brian McCann C
Brian Roberts 2B
Yangervis Solarte 3B
Never mind the meat:
Let’s Go Yank-ees!
[Photo Credit: Steve Perille via MPD]
Alexandra gives a Lemon-Ricotta Cheesecake. I know I’ve posted this before but what the hell, I’m hungry.
My father’s best friend Marty died yesterday. I found out this morning from his daughter who sent me a message on Facebook.
I thought of Marty on my way to work, and the unabiding loyalty he shard with Dad for more than 50 years.
A melancholy song by Guy Clark played on my iPhone:
At a 145th Street, a young man walked onto the train holding a cardboard box. I removed one earbud after he started to talk. His voice was bright and clear. I thought he was selling candy. Instead, he said that he was Pete Seeger’s grandson. He moved through the car and handed out pamphlets for something called Seegerfest. I took a pamphlet and told him that I admired his grandfather. He said that both of his grandparents died in the past year and that he missed them very much.
At the next stop he left the car and went to the next one. His grandparents would be proud.
Port Jervis Solarte was 0-for-hislast-28 when he stepped to the plate in the 9th inning last night in Toronto. He’d hit the ball hard at times over the weekend but had nothing to show for it. On Sunday, there was a pained look on his face after every out. But last night he swung at the first pitch and hit a line drive to center field to drive in a run.
It was a nice moment. Reason I mention it is that it was practically the only nice moment in an 8-3 beat down.
[Photo Credit: TOM SZCZERBOWSKI/USA TODAY]
After a weak showing by the offense this weekend I’ve got a bad feeling about this series in Toronto.
Sure do hope I’m wrong.
Brett Gardner LF
Carlos Beltran DH
Jacoby Ellsbury CF
Mark Teixeira 1B
Brian McCann C
Kelly Johnson 3B
Brian Roberts 2B
Ichiro Suzuki RF
Brendan Ryan SS
Never mind the blue boids;
Let’s Go Yank-ees!
[Picture by Edward Hopper]
John Huston: Master.
Pork Belly Carnitas? Absolutely.
From Clancy Martin’s review of Geoff Dyer’s new book:
This is what I love about Geoff Dyer’s work: His feet are never on the ground. But where his younger narrators fight the feeling that they don’t belong, the grown-up Dyer embraces it. He makes his home in the unstable elements of air and water. When at the end of “Another Great Day at Sea” he finds himself in the desert of Bahrain, he tries to find some romance in it — but even the beer he’s been desperately desiring, all the time he was on board, is dull: “I looked at it, all golden and cold and sweating before I tasted it. It tasted like . . . well, like beer. It was O.K. It wasn’t the beer of my dreams, the ‘Ice Cold in Alex’beer I’d been longing for.” And his thoughts turn to the sailors on the aircraft carrier he’s just left. When he arrived he couldn’t bear the thought of the two weeks to come; by the time he departed he “had become thoroughly habituated to life on the boat,” recognizing that his time on board was simply more stimulating, more interesting than the life to which he was returning. Being “at sea” — being awkward, off-balance, confused, trying once more to fit in when you know you can never fit in — is where Geoff Dyer is most . . . well, if not most comfortable, most himself, most alive.
For more on Dyer, check out his interview with the Paris Review.
[Photo Via: R2-D2]
