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[Featured Image (by Frank Horvat) and Video Via Retro New York]

Should the thunder and lightning easy up Hiroki Kuroda and the Yanks will host the Indians tonight at the Stadium:

Derek Jeter SS
Curtis Granderson DH
Mark Teixeira 1B
Robinson Cano 2B
Nick Swisher RF
Raul Ibanez LF
Eric Chavez 3B
Dewayne Wise CF
Chris Stewart C

Never mind the letdown: Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Photo Credit: Drew Medlin]

Here is an insightful piece on “The Great Gatsby” by Jay McInerney written for the Guardian:

The enduring appeal of Fitzgerald’s third novel, as with many great novels, is partly dependent on a benign misinterpretation on the part of readers, a surrender to fascination with wealth and glamour, and the riotous frivolity of the jazz age. Fitzgerald was by no means an uncritical observer, as some have suggested; the most villainous of these characters are the wealthiest, and Nick Carraway is something of a middle-class prig, who, much as he tries to reserve judgment, is ultimately sickened by all the profligacy and the empty social rituals of his summer among the wealthy of Long Island. “I wanted no more riotous excursion with privileged glimpses into the human heart,” he says at the end. And yet Fitzgerald had a kind of double agent’s consciousness about the tinsel of the jazz age, and about the privileged world of inherited wealth; he couldn’t help stopping to admire and glamorise the glittering interiors of which his midwestern heart ultimately disapproved. Gatsby’s lavish weekly summer parties are over the top, ridiculous, peopled with drunks and poseurs, and yet we can’t help feeling a sense of loss when he suddenly shuts them down after it’s clear that Daisy – for whom the whole show was arranged in the first place – doesn’t quite approve. We shouldn’t approve either, and yet in memory they seem like parties to which we wish we’d been invited.

In Gatsby and his best fiction, Fitzgerald manages to strike a balance between his attraction and repulsion, between his sympathy and his judgment. As a middle-class, midwestern Irish Catholic from what Edmund Wilson called “a semi-excluded background” vis-a-vis the Ivy League and the world of eastern privilege, he seems capable of double vision, the appearance of viewing character, from inside and outside. Fitzgerald’s best narrators always seem to be partaking of the festivities even as they shiver outside with their noses pressed up against the glass. In this manner, Nick Carraway doesn’t entirely approve of Jay Gatsby, the party-giving parvenu with his pink suits and his giant yellow circus wagon of a car. But he deeply admires Jay Gatsby the lover and the dreamer, the man for whom the mansion and the bespoke clothes were only the means to reclaim his first love. Nick admires his fidelity to that first love and his ability to keep it pure and undefiled, even as he wades through the muck to pursue it, even if the object of that love isn’t, in the flesh, worthy of such devotion.

[Photo Credit: Heather.Dyan]

This is a most delicious dressing from April Bloomfield. Curiously strong but excellent. I had it on asparagus recently and it was lovely.

The recipe, from Bloomfield’s new book, is adapted here at Food 52.

[Photo Credit: James Ransom]

Well, I never kept a dollar past sunset/it always burned a hole in my pants…

[Photo Via: Blossom]

“Red Sun Rising” By Bleed Clarity [Via Beneath Your Soul]

Alex Maclean looks at New York’s hidden skyline spaces. Dig the “Up on the Roof” gallery over at Fast Company.

R.A. Dickey’s scoreless streak ended in the third inning tonight when Mark Teixeira’s sacrifice fly score the first run of the game. Nick Swisher followed with a three-run home run and with C.C. Sabathia on the mound, things looked good for the Yanks.

Nobody, however, had the good sense to alert Robinson Cano that there was a ball game going on. He botched a throw from Chris Stewart that led to a run and Cadillaced a routine ground ball into an error with one out in the sixth. The Yanks were ahead 5-2 but by the time the Mets were retired, Sabathia was on the bench and the score was tied.

Cano knew better than to smile.

If you are looking for a cheesy redemption story, Cano was happy to oblige. He hit a long solo home run against Miguel Bautista to lead off the eighth inning. It proved to be the difference.

David Robertson worked around a two out base runner–and a balk–in the eighth, and Raphael Soriano did the same in the ninth (his strike out against David Wright to start the inning was a tense, exciting confrontation).

By that point, the rain poured on the field. The Yankees appeared to have the game in hand, then to blow it, but Cano–who was partially responsible for squandering the lead–came through with the biggest hit of the night.

Final Score: Yanks 6, Mets 5.

Yanks take the season series, 5-1.

[Photo Credit: Elsa/Getty Images]

C.C. vs. R.A. ‘Nuff said. Terrific match-up.

1. Jeter, SS
2. Granderson, CF
3. A-Rod, 3B
4. Cano, 2B
5. Teixeira, 1B
6. Swisher, RF
7. Ibanez, LF
8. Stewart, C
9. Sabathia, LHP

Never mind that damn knuckler: Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Photo Credit: N.Y. Daily News]

Kevin Youkilis has been traded to the Chicago White Sox. Jon Heyman broke the story. Details to come…

Youk was a classic Boston Red Sox, one of the dreaded “dirt dogs” and out of respect, I hated his guts. He was a tough, pain-in-the-ass out for a long time. Now, other than Pedrioa and Ortiz, the old Red Sox are but a memory.

[Photo Credit: Willa Dios]

Cool sounds on a hot day.

[Photo Credit: Good Veg]

The Yankees had lost three straight going into last night’s game and frustration built by the inning as Chris Young was stingy and kept the Bombers off the board. Frustration turned into irritation when Young hit a two-out RBI single in the sixth inning to put the Mets up, 3-0.

And then, over the course of four pitches, the game changed.

Mark Teixeira led off the seventh against Young and worked the count full. He hit a foul tip that was dropped by the catcher, Josh Thole. The next pitch was over the plate but low for ball four. Close, and on a different night with a different umpire it could have easily been called a strike. Nick Swisher took a big swing at the first pitch he saw and it was likely his swing that caught right fielder Lucas Duda off-guard. Duda stepped back, hesitated, and then ran forward. Swisher hit the ball off the end of the bat and was so sure that he’d made an easy out that he ducked his head and loafed out of the box. But Duda’s hesitation was costly as he ran ahead and dove for the ball. He missed and the ball squirted behind him. Teixeira moved to third and even without hustling Swisher made it to second.

Before Yankee fans could say “runners in scoring position” Raul Ibanez hit a line drive on the first pitch he saw from Young. It was a seed, headed for the right field corner, and whoosh! it went over the fence, a three run homer. Four pitches and the game had changed.

Jon Rauch relieved Young, struck out Russell Martin and got ahead of pinch-hitter Eric Chavez 0-2 when he looked to waste a pitch up in the zone. It was at Chavez’s shoulders but the lefty fought it off and hit a fly ball to left. It appeared to be a long foul ball, but it stayed fair and went over the fence to put the Yankees ahead 4-3.

That’s how the score remained as the Bombers worked out of trouble in almost every inning–David Robertson pulled his usual Houdini act in the eighth, walking two and striking out the side–as it was the Mets’ turn to come up short with men on. Raphael Soriano got the save. The last out, a long fly ball off the bat of Daniel Murphy, looked scary coming off his bat. But it didn’t have that good sound and it fell into Swisher’s glove.

Yanks look to end their modest three-game skid tonight with Ivan Nova on the hill. I like their chances agains Chris Young. This weekend will get a whole lot more uncomfortable for Yankee fans should the Mets win what with R.A. Dickey pitching tomorrow night.

1. Jeter SS
2. Granderson CF
3. A-Rod 3B
4. Cano 2B
5. Teixeira 1B
6. Swisher RF
7. Ibanez LF
8. Martin C
9. Nova P

Never mind those scrappy underdogs: Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Photo Credit: Shannon Stapleton]

Here’s Roger Angell on R.A. Dickey:

Dickey, whose full beard and peaceable appearance suggest a retired up-country hunting dog, is thirty-seven years old, with ten years and three prior big-league teams behind him, and hard work has brought him to this Shangri-La, perhaps only briefly. He’ll hope for another visit on Sunday, against the Yankees. Watching him, if you’ve ever played ball, you may find yourself remembering the exact moment in your early teens when you were first able to see a fraction of movement in a ball you’d flung, and sensed a magical kinship with the ball and what you’d just done together. This is where Dickey is right now, and for him the horrendous din of the game and its perpetual, distracting flow of replay and statistics and expertise and P.R. and money and expectation and fatigue have perhaps dimmed, leaving him still in touch with the elegant and, for now, perfectly recallable and repeatable movements of his body and shoulders and the feel of the thing on his fingertips.

[Photo Credit: Barton Silverman/N.Y. Times]

Oh, yeah.

[Photo Credit: Una Ruby Heart]

Luck played a good part in the Yankees’ 10-game winning streak. They weren’t blowing teams out, instead, they won close games. And now they’ve lost three straight, games they would have won last week. That’s baseball.

Andy Pettitte had a tough first inning and it gave the Mets enough of a lead to carry them to a 6-4 win on a rainy summer night in Queens. Couple of walks and a hit loaded the bases. Pettitte had two outs but Justin Turner lofted a soft line drive to center to drive in two and then Ike Davis swung at the first pitch he saw and hit a high fly ball to right field. Nick Swisher moved close to the fence and it appeared as if he had a hard time seeing the ball. He jumped when he reached the wall and the ball bounced off the thumb of his glove and dropped out of view for a three-run home run.

The Yanks continued their season-long futility driving home base runners stranding men in almost every inning. Alex Rodriguez and Andruw Jones hit solo homers and Robinson Cano hit a two run home run–all three of them were shots–and the Mets tacked on a run against Corey Wade.

All of which set things up nicely for Frank Francisco, he of the fat ass and fatter mouth.

The Yankees put the tying run on base after Russell Martin led off the inning with a hard line drive that was caught, but Curtis Granderson looked at a fastball right down the middle for a third strike (it seemed inexplicable at first but he must simply have been fooled, expecting the split-finger pitch), and Mark Teixeira popped up to short.

Francisco survived to back up his dopey boast and for a night Mets fans have bragging rights. They may be damp and Francisco may have tested their patience, but they go home happy.

As for the Yanks, tomorrow becomes a big game what with R.A. Dickey waiting for them on Sunday night. I believe Ivan Nova will pitch well and they’ll end this small losing streak.

[Photo Credit: SNY]

The unofficial Yankee Score Truck makes its way around town each and every weekday. I saw it driving north on Sixth Ave last summer and then again the next day headed south on Seventh Ave. But it was moving and I didn’t have to take a picture. I didn’t see it again although I kept my eyes peeled. Last weekend, however, I sat in an outdoor cafe with my cousin when I saw it drive by.

And then today, I’m walking up Eighth Ave and I stop for the light at 57th Street when the Score Truck drives past, moving east. I looked after it–missed it again!–when it stopped at the light on Broadway. I took off and ran through pedestrian traffic until I reached it before the light turned. Got my pictures and talked about tonight’s game with the driver.

Here’s the line up:

1. Jeter SS
2. Granderson CF
3. Teixeira 1B
4. Rodriguez 3B
5. Cano 2B
6. Swisher RF
7. Jones LF
8. Martin C
9. Pettitte P

Tonight gives two lefties with pronounced noses. Let’s hope the rain stays away.

Never mind the Chicken Dance: Let’s Go Yank-ees!

You Scream. I scream. We all scream for ice cream…machine.

David Lebovitz has more.

[Photo Via: Serious Eats]

[Picture by Alexey Kurbatov]