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Respect the ‘Stache

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I have a friend at work who has been goading me to grow a mustache for a few years now but my wife won’t have any of it.  I’ve never had a mustache, only a dirty upper-lip when I’m too lazy to shave for a few days.  In fact, I knew an Italian kid in the seventh grade who had to shave more then than I do today.  My father (pictured above in the late ’80s with his old friend Wally Hill), on the other hand, always wore a mustache.  It was as much a part of him as his nose.  There are only a few occasions I can remember when he didn’t have a ‘stache, and he looked odd, not himself, without it. 

Jason Giambi looks great with a mustache.  (So awful, it’s great, as Scott Rolen said.)  The greasier and scrubbier Giambi looks, the better, as far as I’m concerned.  (From Page 2, here is David Puner’s look at the great Yankee ‘staches of all-time.) Of course, Giambo’s mustache has caught on and become a real hit.  This afternoon, the Yankees are giving away fake black mustaches to the first 20,000 fans that pass through the turnstiles.

The Bombers are going to need more than an amusing promotional gimmick to survive another start from Sir Sidney Ponson.  It would be great for the Yanks to take another game from the first-place Rays, but I’m sorry if I’m not brimming with confidence in New York’s starting pitcher.

It could be a long, hot afternoon.  Let’s hope the ‘stache power kicks in for the home team and they roll to their fourth-consecutive win. The offense needs to get the Led out.

Let’s Go Yan-Kees! 

Looks Like I Must Be in the Front Row

Check out this cool bit of technology from SI.com.

 

Where Have You Gone, Bernie Williams?

I think it is high time for the Yankees and Bernie Williams to patch-up whatever hard feelings may exist between them.  The Yankees should honor one of the great modern Yankees in the House of Ruth Built before the end of the season, don’t you think?

Extra, Extra

A few weeks back, Rich Lederer ran an interesting post about the state of the newspaper business:

With subscriber rates and advertising dwindling, newspaper profits are getting squeezed due to the decreasing revenues in a high fixed-cost business. It remains to be seen whether these companies can turn things around fast enough to remain viable longer term. In the meantime, look for more consolidation, layoffs, and plant closures to reduce capital expenditures and costs. Shareholders may face possible dividend cuts if cash flow weakens to the point where it no longer can support the current payouts. I wouldn’t rule out bankruptcies or unwanted takeovers from opportunistic suitors, who most likely would finance the majority of such acquisitions with debt. Servicing high-cost bank debt and junk bonds would make it that much more difficult for the old media to survive without major changes to their business models.

If the truth be told, the newspaper behemoths were in the best position to lead, rather than lag, the growth in the online media space. Forward-thinking managements, while perhaps not entrepreneurial enough, could have beaten the Googles, Yahoos, eBays, and Monsters to the punch, ensuring not only their survival but prosperity for years and perhaps decades to come. Instead, newspapers are downsizing while changing their business models to focus on local events and become more like magazines by devoting space to features rather than old news.

An ideal companion piece can be found in the recent issue of the Columbia Jouralism Review, where Robert Weintraub writes about the decline of the big-city sports columnist:

The idea that the sports columnist may no longer be a crucial part of the nation’s best newspapers is something to be lamented. The gifted sports columnist often delivered the best writing in the entire paper (and often commanded the highest salary, as fans bought papers to read his take on the local action). Freed from the Journalism 101 tropes, the sports column was home to more emotional and livelier prose than that in, say, the local political columns. At his or her best, a [Tony] Kornheiser or a [Jackie] MacMullan weaved artistry and insights into 750 words. That blend of beauty and concision is a dying art. By contrast, there is ESPN.com’s popular Bill Simmons, who is knowledgeable and funny, but reading his sprawling pieces can consume an entire lunch hour. The Internet’s boundless newshole is a boon to information delivery, but less so to crisp, disciplined writing.

…The big-city columnist’s demise has not been entirely self-inflicted. His position as the go-to guy for both perspective and insider dope has been diminished by the democratization of information and the ability to quickly disseminate it to the public. When everyone has an opinion, and a way to broadcast it, the ability to get the news in the first place is crucial. Yet the columnist cannot get into the nitty-gritty of a local team’s games, because beat writers and obsessed bloggers tend to know much more about the squad and its doings on the playing field, as they parse every game, every dollop of information, every statistic. The columnist is also outflanked by teams themselves, who use the Internet to bypass the press and break news, and by the growing number of athletes who operate their own Web sites where fans can interact.

I wonder if we’ll ever see a fresh, young, must-read columnist, someone who knows their sports and knows how to write, in a major newspaper again.

Kool Like Clyde

How do you spell C-O-O-L?

How about this bit of tastiness for your ears? Ideal for keeping it low and slow on another hot day in the Big Apple.

Now We All Grown Up and Old

Scott Kazmir and the Rays are ready to rumble in the Bronx. According to Bart O’Connell in the Tampa Trib:

“It’s going to be different. I think the fans are going to be a little more on us, compared to the past,” Kazmir said. “It might be kind of mixed a little bit, because we’ve been beating the Red Sox and they like that, but coming into their park, I don’t think they’re going to be too happy to see us and we’re ahead of them. There’s going to be a lot of tension in there.”

Kazmir does not see this series alone as an opportunity to knock the Yankees out of postseason contention, a possibility some have suggested.

“No, no, no. Nothing like that. We still have a whole half of the season to go, so it couldn’t just be on one game, one inning,” he said. “But if we put the pressure on them these next couple games, and end up finishing strong in the first half, I think it’ll put us in a good situation.”

In the New York Post, Brian Costello has this from Cliff Floyd:

“It used to be going to play the Yankees was a big deal. It’s not a big deal. We’re just going to play baseball. We put ourselves in a position where there’s no pressure.”

Also, from the Tampa Trib:

“Sometimes you could beat them on mistakes, and they don’t make mistakes any more,” [Jason] Giambi said.

…”When you get veterans from other teams saying those kinds of things, that, to me, means as much as anything,” Maddon said after reading Giambi’s words of praise. “I think peer acceptance, peer validation, is the strongest or the one that resonates the loudest. For me, that does mean something and it does matter and we as an organization appreciate those comments.”

Could be a fun two-game series. Sure is a hot one out there…

Litter Bug

I used to litter causually, without giving it much thought.  I’d think nothing of stuffing a newspaper between my legs, under my seat on the train when I was finished with it.  Or I’d toss a gum wrapper on the ground. 

Then one day about ten years ago, I was walking down the street with my friend Joey La P and I tossed something on the ground without thinking.  Joey got all over me.  "How about a little respect, bro?"  He didn’t humiliate me, but didn’t let it slide either.  Since that day, I’ve been aware about littering (not that I didn’t know it was a lousy thing to do before that).  So much so that now I’m like one of those reformed smokers, vigilant, judgemental.  I give people the evil eye when I see them blatantly throw their crap on the floor, although I am careful exactly who I stare at and for how long. 

But I’ve become a righteous prig.  What can you do?  Mostly, if I’m really bothered, I just walk over and pick up whatever has just been dumped and, without saying a word, or even looking at the offender, place it in a garbage can myself.  If I’m with a friend, I give them the ol’ Joey La P treatment.  "Yo, how about a little respect?"

I Don’t Pander

Here’s the routine

Stuffin’ the Ballot

Fans have a few days to select the final player for the AL and NL All Star squads.  Our own Jason Giambi is on the AL ballot and is a fine cherce, although I don’t know that I’d vote for him over Jermaine Dye or that kid playing third for the Rays.

Treasure Trove

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A few months ago I invited myself to Ray Robinson’s apartment, ostensibly to get his list of ten essential baseball books, but really so I could lay eyes on his library of sports books.  Robinson, an author (Iron Horse) and longtime magazine editor, grew up on the Upper West Side, near Columbia.  When he was a kid, Robinson got a delivery job at a local liquor store, and he found himself making stops over at Babe Ruth’s apartment at 110 Riverside Drive. He’d say, ‘Thanks keed,'” Ray told me.  “He called everybody ‘keeed,’ because he couldn’t remember anyone’s name.  And he would invariably honor me with a couple of dollar bills.”

Ray and his wife, Phyliss were wonderful with me.  We chatted in the living room of their comfortable New York apartment for about an hour and Ray shared his selections of favorite baseball books with me.  I poked my nose through his collection and as I was about to leave, Ray said, “Oh, would you like to see my scrapbooks?”

“Sure, I would.”

Ray picked-up a bright orange plastic bag from the bottom of the bookshelf, the kind you’d get from the local Chinese take out.  He pulled out two weathered books, practically falling apart, one dated 1932, the other, 1933.  They were filled with pictures of players from every team in baseball.  Ray cut-out images mostly from The New York Sun, The Saturday Evening Post, assorted baseball magazines as well as baseball cards.  Then, along with some friends, he’d scout the hotel lobbies where the out-of-town teams stayed, to get autographs.

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The books are lovingly, obsessively assembled, filled with small notations.  Ray expressed some embarrassment when I complemented him on how wonderful, how personal the books are. He dismissed his sketch of the Babe as being awful, but I liked it and his wife did too.

Ray asked if he should sell the books–after all, he’s got a couple of Lefty Groves in there, a Honus Wagner, Dizzy Dean.  Phyliss said that she didn’t think that was a good idea. I quickly agreed.

“You can’t sell these,” I said.  “They belong in a museum or for your grandkids.”

As I looked carefully through the two books, Ray kept wondering if he should sell them.  I said, “No way,” but when I left I felt foolish.  Who am I to say that he shouldn’t sell them?  There is probably some serious money in those two books.  Still, they feel too personal to part with.  They are not kept under a glass case, they are in a plastic bag on the shelf, a secret baseball treasure on the Upper East Side.

Yesterday, the New York Times featured a short essay by Ray Robinson about his scrapbooks.

Check it out and dig what I was able to see:
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Dolla, Dolla Bill, Y’All*

New York magazine has an article on the hawking-off of Yankee Stadium.  Everything Must Go, One Time Only!

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Stumped

I realize that Manny Ramirez is in a slump.  Still, it was a strange sight watching him look at three pitches against Mariano Rivera last night, before returning to the dugout.  After the game, Rivera told reporters, "I was kind of surprised, definitely, that he never took the bat off his shoulder," Rivera said. "I don’t know what he was thinking. That’s Manny."

The Constant Gardner

Seven batters were hit in Saturday’s game and yet there was no beef between the Yankees and Red Sox.  My, how times have changed.  But things got lively on Sunday night–Kevin Youkilis slid hard into home, brushing against Joba Chamberlain’s leg in the fifth inning, and Chamberlain threw a pitch behind The Greek God of Walks in the sixth before walking him on a 3-2 pitch.   Joba vs Youk would be some Beffy Battle Royale but it’ll have to wait for another day.  The loudest fight of the night came when Joe Girardi got himself run for arguing balls and strikes with home plate ump, Laz Diaz.  But the Yanks had the biggest fight in them, as they rallied and won in extra innings, 5-4

Chamberlain pitched well in the early going, working quickly and efficiently through the first four innings.  But he allowed the first three runners to reach base in the fifth, with Youkilis scoring on a wild pitch.  Chamberlain regrouped, struck out the next two batters and then shook Jose Molina off before throwing a 3-2 pitch to Jacoby Ellsbury.  Molina went out to talk to Chamberlain who proceeded to walk Ellsbury on a check swing.  Chamberlain threw a slider; apparently, Molina wanted a fastball.  Dustin Pedroia was next and he fisted an inside fastball into right field for a two-run single.  Chamberlain gave up three runs on four hits, he walked four and struck out five in six innings. 

Alex Rodriguez, front page tabloid fodder all weekend, launched a knuckle ball into the left field seats to lead off the second inning, his 18th homer of the year and 536th of his career, tying him with Mickey Mantle on the all-time list.  It would be the last hit the Yankees would collect until the sixth.  Derek Jeter singled home a run before that inning was out, then helped give one right back in the top of the seventh as a throwing error led to a run.

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Step Right Up

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We’ve got a nice pitching match-up for the Sunday Night finale of this four-game series, as Joba Chamberlain goes against the old knuckler, Tim Wakefield. Never know what you are going to get from Wake, but we’ve seen him hand it to the Yanks on more than one occasion. Chamberlain is coming off a poor start against the Rangers where he was wild and threw a ton of pitches and was gone after four innings. Tonight is his biggest start yet. A huge game for the Yankees to keep pace–yes, the Rays won again this afternoon.

The All Star rosters were announced this afternoon and neither Mike Mussina and Jason Giambi made the team. I’m sure that’ll give Joe Morgan something to talk about tonight.

Oy.

Let’s hope the bats are boomin’ so it ain’t too painful and

Let’s Go Yan-Kees!

On Any Given Sunday…

…Something great can happen and that’s why we watch sports.

Today at Wimbledon, something great did happen. Rafael Nadal, the Red Sox to Roger Federer’s Yankees, defeated the five-time defending champ in what could possibly be the greatest finals match of all time, 6-4, 6-4, 6-7 (5), 6-7 (8), 9-7. John MacEnroe sure thought it was. Nadal and Federer both showed great courage and determination, and the level of play was brilliant, the shot-making suburb, the drama palpable.

It reminded me of something Carlton Fisk once told Tom Boswell about being on deck with Yaz up in the ninth at the end of the playoff game of ’78 between the Yanks and Sox:

I was in the on-deck circle, just like I was when Yaz flew out to end the ’75 Series. You know, they should have stopped the game right then and said, ‘Okay, that’s it. The season is over. You’re both world champions. We can’t decide between you, and neither of you should have to lose.’

Nadal and Federer elevated the game today. Remarkable.

Moose Party

Here’s a quick look at Mike Mussina’s greatest efforts against the Red Sox.

May 24, 2001

May 30, 2001

Sep 2, 2001

Sep 8, 2001

June 1, 2002

July 19, 2002

Aug 28, 2002

July 7, 2003

Sep 19, 2004

July 5, 2008

And of course, the biggest relief outing of Moose’s career came against Boston.

Pause Mix

You Lose, Cause I Got the Ill Street Blues:

Sweet Lou

Here’s to one of the great days in Yankee Stadium history…

 

Boogie Down, Beat Down

The Red Sox stepped all over the Yankees again today, 6-4.  This one featured a rain delay to sustain the misery for Yankee fans. Alex Rodriguez got to Josh Beckett in the first, lashing a two-run double into the left field corner, but grounded out as the go-ahead run with the bases loaded in the seventh.  He didn’t have much help around him either as the Yanks only got six hits. 

They couldn’t hold a 3-0 lead.  Kevin Youkilis tied it in the third when he hit a long fly ball to left field.  Johnny Damon tracked the ball and jumped up to catch it as he reached the wall.  The ball popped out of his glove and momentarily rested on top of wall.  Then, like one of those miracle putts that find a way to fall (Caddyshack), the ball dropped off the wall and landed next to Damon on the ground.  The tying run scored and Youkilis was on third with a triple.  Damon left the game.  Two innings later, Mike Lowell cranked a three-run jack, enough to do the Yankees in.  Even an umpire’s gift in the ninth didn’t help much.

I think the Yankees are upset, I think they are mad, just like the Sox were upset and mad after being swept by Tampa. It’s just that the Sox are a better overall team than the Yankees.  Ten years ago, the Yankees always seemed to take advantage of other teams’ mistakes.  Now, the Yankees are the other team.  And the Sox are the defending World Champs.   Boston has been a brilliant reaction to the most recent Yankee Dynasty–they built a sleeker, more efficient version of the Yankees.     

My cousins came over this afternoon.  We made these killer ribs in the oven from a Cook’s Illustrated recipe–Lapsang Souchong black tea is used for smoke.  They brought over a black-eyed peas salad and I made a cous cous salad.  It was all simply delicious.  So at least the food, and the company, was good.

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An American Original

The Yanks were thoroughly out-played last night. Today, they get Josh Beckett. Could be a long weekend.

Regardless, here is something to kick off the game in style.

Have a safe and Happy holiday, everyone and Let’s Go Yan-Kees!. 

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"This ain't football. We do this every day."
--Earl Weaver