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By Bruce Markusen

The Yankee Rumor Mill—Does It Exist Anymore?

I can’t remember the last time the Yankees experienced such a quiet spring on the trade rumor front. It stands in direct contrast to a long forgotten season like 1989, when rumors infiltrated the Yankee camp in Ft. Lauderdale almost every day, with a busy front office pulling off spring deals for the likes of Steve “Bye Bye” Balboni, Tom Brookens, and Mel Hall. It seems almost every spring that there’s a rumor about the Yankees acquiring a brand-name pitcher, or a center fielder, or an extra arm out of the bullpen—something through the trade route. This year, however, all’s silent on the rumor mill. Other than the never-ending talk regarding a possible return of Roger Clemens—which won’t happen until May at the earliest and would not involve an actual trade—there has hardly been any substantive talk of the Yankees making a deal this spring. I guess that’s the price you pay for having a talented team with few glaring weaknesses. (And it’s not like Balboni, Brookens, and Hall drastically changed the fortunes of the ’89 Yankees, who won only 74 games and finished fifth in the AL East.)

With the phone lines remaining quiet, some writers have been busy trying to concoct trades that might make some sense. Others have been contemplating deals that could happen after the season starts. After all, this is a Yankee team that does have flaws, even for all of its frontline talent. The backup catching situation is a mess, first base could be a disaster if Dougie Mink is given too long a leash, and the back end of the rotation looks something less than sturdy. With that in mind, let’s assess some moves that either could happen, or at least in theory, would improve Yankee fortunes.

Bullpen help to the Phillies for a spare catcher: Earlier this week, Joel Sherman of the New York Post suggested a trade that would make a great deal of sense for the Yankees and a potential trade partner in the National League: Mike Myers to the Phillies for backup catcher Carlos Ruiz. The Phillies need relief pitching like Doug Mientkiewicz needs a corked bat, so Sherman is certainly on the right track. Ruiz, a 28-year-old receiver with solid defensive skills and something more than a lightweight bat, would represent an upgrade over the current backstop brigade of Todd Pratt, Wil Nieves, Raul Chavez, and Ben Davis. Let me add another suggestion to this scenario. If the Phillies don’t like Myers, how about sending Ron Villone to Philadelphia for Chris Coste? Already 34, Coste is six years older than Ruiz, but does bring a potentially stronger bat and the versatility to play other positions, including first base and third base. With Rod Barajas around as the starting catcher in Philadelphia, either Coste or Ruiz should be available—at least in theory.

Carl Pavano going nowhere for now: At the beginning of spring training, we heard whispers that the Mariners, Rockies, and Cardinals had interest in Pavano, but the Yankees responded by essentially taking the right-hander off the market. The reason? Brian Cashman realized that the timing wasn’t right because Pavano’s value remains exceedingly low. (Plus, with recent concerns over Andy Pettitte’s back, Pavano might become more necessary in the grand scheme.) Here’s what Cashman wants to do: open the season with Pavano, hope that he pitches well over the first month and builds up his trade value, and then re-explore trades that might bring back a backup catcher, or first base help, or a prospect. By then, the Yankees could look more seriously at using Jeff Karstens as a fifth starter, or even give some thought to a recall of Phil Hughes or Ross Ohlendorf.

An Alex Rodriguez blockbuster: An Angels blogger claims that the Yankees have talked to Anaheim about a trade that would put A-Rod on the left coast in exchange for a package of three players: catcher Jose Molina, right-hander Jered Weaver, and minor league righty Dustin Moseley (ah yes, another pitching prospect). Pardon me for doubting, but I suspect that Cashman has had little or no conversation with the Angels regarding A-Rod this spring. Even if he had, this particular package doesn’t fit, now that Weaver has been placed on the disabled list and will miss Opening Day. (Plus, the Yankees like Ervin Santana better than Weaver.) The Yankees would also need a third baseman in the deal, necessitating that someone like Chone Figgins be included. Still, I could see a trade like this being discussed sometime after April 1, assuming certain conditions are met. If the Yankees stumble out of the gate badly and A-Rod simultaneously slumps at the plate, rumblings of him exercising his “out” clause will only escalate. Angels owner Arte Moreno absolutely loves Rodriguez, who would be a perfect fit for a Halos team that needs at least one more slugger to team with Vladimir Guerrero. Of course, A-Rod would have to give his consent. He’s not ready to do that, but a poor start coupled with continuing showers of Bronx boos could convince A-Rod to cut his losses and move on to the next stage of his career.

Are any of these scenarios—a deal with the Phillies, a trade of Pavano, a blockbuster involving A-Rod—likely to happen? Of course not. When it comes to trades, especially in this day of complicated contracts, lack of organizational depth for many teams, and a preponderance of conservative GMs, always bet against a trade happening. But these are the kinds of moves that Cashman should be considering, especially if the Yankees duplicate their slow start of 2005. This team has some pitching and depth concerns—and only a fool would consider the Yankees bulletproof, in need of nothing as Opening Day approaches.

Bruce Markusen is the author of seven books, including A Baseball Dynasty: Charlie Finley’s Swingin’ A’s. His newest book, a revised edition of Tales From The Mets Dugout, is now available from Sports Publishing. Bruce is a resident of Cooperstown, NY.

I interviewed Curt Schilling last weekend. Our conversation is now up at SI.com. We spoke about his new blog, 38 Pitches, which I think is particularly interesting when Schilling breaks down his pitching performances. Check it out.

Yo, did anyone see Mariano pitch against Ryan Howard last night? He threw the big guy two consecutive change-ups. The first, on an 0-2 count, was low for a ball. The next one was low too, but Howard lunged and struck out. If Rivera can throw a change up effectively this season, well, that just wouldn’t be fair would it?

Oh, and speaking of our man Jorge, Joel Sherman has a column on Posada today in The Post:

The Yanks are making Posada, who is in his walk year, play for his next contract. But even more important is just how vital Posada is to the Yanks. He is their most irreplaceable player. Not the best player. But the one that would be most difficult to cover for should he suffer a long-term injury.

True, true, true dat.

Pat Borzi has a nice piece about the relationship between Jorge Posada and Tony Pena today in The Times.

The acclaimed baseball writer, Charles Einstein died a few weeks ago. His obit is in the Times today. Einstein edited the four volume “The Fireside Book of Baseball,” as well as several books about Willie Mays. Well worth checking out. And he’s the random part: Einstein was the half-brother of Albert Einstein, better known as Albert Brooks.

By Bruce Markusen

Mike Easler—Topps Company—1987 (No. 135)

As a child of the 1970s, I’ve always loved wood paneling in a home. I even appreciate the cheap, cardboard-thin wood that lined the basements of many houses in the northeast corridor during the seventies. Given my affection for wood paneling, it’s not surprising that Topps’ 1987 wood-bordered set ranks as my favorite of the 1980s.

With the wood border providing an ideal framework, Mike Easler’s card rates near the top of my list. This card, No. 135 in the set, gives us a clear view of Easler’s memorable batting stance. Unlike most power hitters, Easler batted out of a pronounced crouch, a pose usually preferred by singles and doubles hitters the ilk of Pete Rose. After attacking a pitcher’s offering with a fierce uppercut, Easler finished off each swing with his signature flourish—an exaggerated rotation of the bat, the equivalent of a helicopter motion. Even as a college student in the 1980s, I used to mimic the Easler “helicopter” during meetings with fellow baseball diehards. No one of Easler’s era finished his swing in such a way, and no one since has matched Easler’s twirling of the bat.

In addition to his distinctive batting style, Easler also had a descriptive nickname. Although most Yankee fans remember Don Mattingly as “The Hit Man,” he was not the first to acquire the nickname. Easler preceded Mattingly as the original Hit Man, a testament to his aggressive style at the plate and his ability to pepper line drives from one outfield gap to another. Unlike most left-handed hitters with power, Easler boasted a particularly effective opposite-field stroke, which he seemed to prefer over pulling the ball to right field. Easler was usually at his best hitting the ball with gusto toward left-center, an ability that he honed during his years at Fenway Park. Easler became particularly adept at hitting “The Wall” at Fenway, an advantage that he would lose during his two stints with the Yankees. Unfortunately, left field at Yankee Stadium has never provided a reachable target for left-handed hitters, and that did not change for The Hit Man, who struggled to fill the shoes of the player for whom he was traded, Don Baylor.

Still, Easler was reasonably productive in his first go-round in Yankee pinstripes. He played well as a platoon DH and left fielder, sustaining a role that he had filled with the Boston Red Sox. Prior to that, Easler had forged a niche as a highly successful part-time player with the Pittsburgh Pirates, which included a cameo during the team’s World Championship season in 1979. That Easler sustained a lasting major league career of consequence throughout the 1980s is testament to his perseverance. For most of the 1970s, Easler bided his time in the minor leagues, save for unproductive cups of coffee with the Houston Astros and California Angels. Along the way, he won two minor league batting titles. Yet, major league scouts didn’t like Easler; they viewed him as nothing more than a platoon player, incapable of hitting left-handed pitching, and regarded him as a butcher in the outfield. They didn’t feel he hit with enough power or possessed enough speed. Even as Easler filleted minor pitching at Double-A and Triple-A, scouts dismissed him as nothing more than a career minor leaguer.

Most players would have been excused for taking their minor league numbers to Japan for a bigger payday, but Easler remained adamant about a career in the major leagues. Easler’s persistence started to deliver dividends in 1977, when the Pirates first brought him to Pittsburgh. By 1979, he appeared capable of contributing in a small role to a World Championship club. By 1980, he had convinced everyone that he belonged in the major leagues for the long haul.

Easler also helped his cause by becoming popular in the clubhouse. Teammates liked him, as did the media. Easler always answered questions from the press after games, regardless of the outcome. Even the most jaded Red Sox reporter, weary from having to deal with “unfriendlies” like Jim Rice and Wade Boggs in an exceedingly difficult clubhouse, could find solace at Easler’s locker. Easler would always talk—no matter what.

Given his sociability, his relentless determination, and his resplendent hitting style, it’s easy to see why Easler became one of my favorites during the 1980s. His 1987 Topps card might not be worth much—it’s a common card from an era in which too many cards were produced to begin with—but it’s still a nice one to have.

Bruce Markusen is the author of seven books, including A Baseball Dynasty: Charlie Finley’s Swingin’ A’s. His newest book, a revised edition of Tales From The Mets Dugout, is now available from Sports Publishing. Bruce is a resident of Cooperstown, NY.

I found a link to an excerpt from Michael Morrissey’s new book on the 2006 Yankees via Was Watching the other day. The chapter covers Carl Pavano’s misbegotten Yankee career. Former Yankee manager Bob Lemon liked calling everyone “Meat.” What do you think he would have called Pavano?

I’m proud to introduce the first Bronx Banter post by Village Voice sportswriter, Emma Span, who will be contributing twice-a-month for us this season. Dig…

By Emma Span

Spring training is a tough time for sports writers – or, at least, for me. You want to talk about the games, except they’re so utterly unimportant that you often overhear players asking each other who today’s opponent is. And at this stage of March, every statement about a player’s performance has to be qualified by either “Of course, it’s still early” or “It’s only spring training” or “Keep in mind he was just out there to work on his change today.”

It was especially tough to find legitimate news in Port St. Lucie (home of the Mets and an awful lot of strip malls), so I was relieved to arrive in Tampa. The Mets are a pleasant, friendly, likeable group, but the juiciest news items of the week were Duaner Sanchez arriving late to work a few times and Lastings Milledge cutting his hair; I’m counting on the Yanks to liven things up a little. Plus, there were no other female reporters with the Mets, and until I got to Legends Field on Sunday – where there are several – except for the lady at the hotel desk and the girl at Wendy’s, I’d barely even glimpsed another woman in a week. I’ve never been happier to see Suzyn Waldman.

But if the lack of real baseball news can make spring training frustrating, that relaxation is also what makes spring’s odd, enjoyable little moments possible. I’ve been at this job for about seven months now, and I like to think I’ve gotten fairly blasé about the locker room scene. But when Reggie Jackson walks by eating a sandwich, nods, and says hi, I realize – nope. Not quite used to it yet. A friend of mine rounded a corner last week and came face to face with Yogi Berra in a towel, an experience I’m sure, for various reasons, will prove difficult to forget.

Covering the Yankees will probably always be a little different for me because I grew up watching them – though Reggie was before my time. It was all Don Mattingly then, and watching him playing (sort of) first base behind Andy Pettitte in Monday’s simulated game was definitely one of the highlights of spring training thus far. [One note: the Yankees announced yesterday that Mattingly’s father had just passed away, after undergoing several brain surgeries this week, and Mattingly had left to be with his family. You’d never have known what he was going through by watching him interact with the players on Monday.]

Legends Field, as some of you probably know, has a fenced-in artificial pond on one side, stocked with enormously fat ducks, geese, and a swan — a very Steinbrennerian touch. As I walked by Sunday afternoon, maybe an hour before the Indians game, I saw Kyle Farnsworth, Brian Bruney, and Scott Proctor grab some bread from a staffer, huddle around the chain-link fence, and start feeding the birds. I’m not sure why, but that tableau completely cracked me up.

Incidentally, I’d always thought swans were supposed to be mean, but Bruney said this one was “sweet,” and lonely because it had just lost its mate. See, you learn something new every day here.

Emma Span, formerly of Eephus Pitch, lives in Brooklyn and writes about sports for the Village Voice. She recently began blogging for them at Out of Left Field.

I visited my friend Johnny Red Sox yesterday afternoon. John lives between York and East End on the upper east side, which is, in the words on my late father, “the ass-end of the world.” (When my brother lived in Brooklyn, Pop told him it was “the ass-end of the planet.” Ben said, “Don’t you mean the ass-end of New York?” And Dad replied testily, “You know what I mean.” As if there was a difference.) John I and trooped back west to Central Park. It was brisk and windy but very nice in the sun. Most of the grassy areas were roped-off, but eventually we found a spot to have our first catch of the year.

A father and son were there throwing a ball around. Shortly thereafter, two French kids–maybe ten and seven, respectively–showed up with mitts and an old ball. The older one was serious-minded. The younger kid was bored. Neither instinctively knew how to catch the ball, but the older one was trying very hard. I gave him a head-nod at one point, and you could tell he was thrilled by the gesture.

They moved around nervously as the ball came their way and dropped more than they caught. The younger kid kept catching the ball accidently with his bare hand. Nothing about the catch seemed fun for him. But the older kid was insistent. I caught glimpses of what they were doing as John and I threw the ball back-and-forth. I thought about helping them out but didn’t and got caught up in conversation with John.

When we took a break, I noticed that the two kids had put their gloves down and were now kicking a soccer ball around. Ah, the International version of having a catch. The little one was zipping around the dirt, enthused. The older one was still serious, but working on some fancy kicking moves. When he booted a ball past the little kid he issued an immediate, “Pardon” (my bad).

There was one infield that was open to the public and we saw two high school kids hitting grounders to each other. One stood at home plate with a mitt on one hand and a bat in the other. He dropped the ball from his glove, and smacked a grounder.

When he got back to John’s crib, the last inning of the Yankee game was on and we watched the highly-touted Jose Tabata hit. Did you guys catch that? It was an impressive at-bat. He looked at fastball outside for a ball, swung through a breaking pitch and then was jammed by a fastball that was in on his fists. He took the next pitch outside for a ball, and then looked at another fastball in on his hands, this time for a ball. (I don’t recall but he may have also fouled off a pitch or two.) The next pitch was a fastball on the outside part of the plate. Tabata lined it over the right field fence for a home run.

SI.com’s Bryan Smith was at the game and e-mailed me later. “Jose Tabata is going to be a star. Love the body on that kid.”

By Bruce Markusen

Over the past few days, I’ve tried to settle on a common theme to the Yankees’ spring camp in Tampa, but in the words of Jerry Seinfeld, “I’ve got nothing.” I don’t want to spill any more ink on the Alex Rodriguez-Derek Jeter courtship, refuse to become tempted by Roger Clemens’ game of “Waiting For Godot,” and have grown tired of Gary Sheffield’s illogical rants from Tigertown. So instead I’ll present a smattering of observations on what has taken place at Legends Field over the first four weeks of spring training.

*We’re almost ten days into the exhibition season, but no closer to finding out the identity of the new backup catcher. Todd Pratt is hurt, Raul Chavez is a non-factor, and Wil Nieves reminds me too much of John Ramos (a blast from the past). For most of the 1980s, the Yankees searched high and far for a quality starting catcher. Now they’re having similar trouble finding a merely competent backup receiver. Is it so crazy to suggest that if the Yankees decide to trade Carl Pavano, they should be happy to receive a second-string catcher in return? If the Rockies, Cardinals, or Mariners were willing to give up a B-level catching prospect for Pavano, Brian Cashman should jump at the opportunity. Anything but another right-handed reliever, of which the Yankees have cornered the market.

*From what little I’ve seen of Josh Phelps, he looks like he can hit—to the tune of 25 home runs if given 450 at-bats. With his tall body and long swing, the Dale Murphy lookalike appears to be the kind of guy who could struggle in a platoon role, but might be more productive playing every day. Right now, there’s no chance of him getting those regular at-bats, but that situation could change drastically in Yankeeland. Given Doug Mientkiewicz’ recent history of back problems and poor hitting, he’ll be out of a job by mid-July. If Phelps is still around by then (and if the Yankees are willing to put up with his stodgy defense at first base), he might be a reasonable stopgap at first base. In contrast, I think Andy Phillips would fare better in a platoon, but I have serious doubts that he would even be able to match Minty’s production as an everyday player. And that’s a scary thought.

*How come no one told me about the new baseball terminology in place this spring? I’ve read in more than one place that Bobby Abreu will begin “dry swinging the bat” in a few weeks. Dry swinging? As opposed to wet swinging? When I first heard the term “dry swinging,” I immediately thought of Gregg Jefferies’ routine of taking a bat into a swimming pool and trying to swing the bat under the water. That’s actually a very good way of improving your hand and wrist strength, but I guess we can assume that Abreu won’t be doing that. In the meantime, I’m sure someone will fill me in on the real meaning of the new catch phrase.

*Mariano Rivera showcased his change-up the other day against the Reds, striking out former Devil Rays prospect Josh Hamilton with that very pitch. (Here Hamilton is trying to make the Reds’ roster as a Rule Five draftee and he has to face Mariano in the middle innings. Gee, thanks, Jerry Narron.) Rivera has worked on the change-up in prior springs, but this is the first time I can remember hearing serious talk that he might actually unveil it during the regular season. Left-handed hitters throughout the American League must be thrilled at the possibilities. They’ve already been subjected to the stinging sensation of broken bats on inside cutters; now they might have to protect the outside half of the plate against a fadeaway change-up. That’s not only unfair, it’s downright mortifying.

*Rivera might actually have some help this year. With the additions of Chris Britton and Luis Vizcaino and the availability of Brian Bruney from Day One, the Yankees have their deepest bullpen since the World Championship days. (When was the last time the Yankees had four pitchers who could consistently reach 95 on the gun?) If Scott Proctor’s rubber arm can return from last year’s pounding and if Kyle Farnsworth can work ahead of the count, the bullpen could be second only to Anaheim in the American League.

*A final thought has to do with the suffocating atmosphere around Legends Field. I know some of the hosts over at MLB Radio who have openly discussed the restrictive air around the Yankees. Even with a new PR director and a new director of stadium security in Tampa, the Yankees still conduct spring training as if it were a penitentiary. Members of the Yankee staff, who walk the premises with cold, unsmiling looks, spend much of their time shooing the media from one location to another. Given such a joyless atmosphere, it’s not surprising that the new security director recently booted some fans from box seats at Legends Field, only to realize they were members of Brian Cashman’s family. Don’t the Yankees realize it’s just baseball, and that it’s supposed to be fun? As the late Willie Stargell used to say, you’re supposed to play baseball, not work it. The Yankee organization could learn a lesson from Pops.

Bruce Markusen is the author of seven books, including A Baseball Dynasty: Charlie Finley’s Swingin’ A’s. His newest book, a revised edition of Tales From The Mets Dugout, is now available from Sports Publishing. Bruce is a resident of Cooperstown, NY.

I sat down with Joe Posnanski, the author of a new book on Buck O’Neil, The Soul of Baseball, recently to talk about all things Buck. (In turn, he interviewed me about all things Yankees at his new blog.) Here is our chat. Hope y’all enjoy.

BB: Buck became a celebrity after appearing in Ken Burns’ PBS series. What did he do for the previous twenty years? Was the PBS thing really life-altering for him?

Pos: There’s no doubt it changed his life. He was a scout in the ’70s and ’80s — mostly for the Cubs, but later for the Kansas City Royals — and he told most of the same stories. He carried himself in the same way. It’s just that people really didn’t listen to him much then. I’ve heard a long interview with Buck from the early 1980s, it was just the Buck people heard a decade later. You can hear all the same joy and optimism and love in his voice. It took Ken Burns to really hear that voice and bring it to America. And it was never the same for Buck after that. Suddenly, he was in demand — an overnight success at 82, he said.

As for what kept him going in those dry years — well, I would say part of it was always baseball. He loved scouting. He was involved with the Hall of Fame veteran’s committee; Buck was such a driving force in getting so many Negro Leaguers into the Hall. But there was more to it. If I had a key question in this book, it was exactly this question: “Buck, how did you keep from being bitter?” There’s no easy answer for that. Some people just have a gift for loving life.

BB: I was so moved by Buck’s reaction to not being elected into the Hall of Fame. Obviously, he was hurt by it, but he recovered–at least on the surface–faster than those around him. Then he told you, “Son, what is my life about?” It wasn’t about the glory, it was about the giving.

Pos: That’s exactly right. It was so vivid to see the way Buck responded to the Hall of Fame. So many of the other things Buck overcame in his life — not being able to attend Sarasota High School, not being given the chance to play or manage in the Major Leagues, on and on — were just concepts in my mind. But here was something I saw first hand, and I know Buck was disappointed that he did not get elected into the Hall of Fame. But he recovered, I think, on the surface and beneath. That’s what his life was all about. You move beyond bitterness and disappointment. You embrace life.

BB: You know the famous Satchel Page line about not looking back. Do you think that applied to Buck at all? Do you think he ever had reflective moments of sorrow or anger but just dismissed them and kept moving ahead?

Pos: I can’t see how he could be human and not have those reflective moments of sorrow and anger. He dealt with so much injustice in his life … the worst of America in the 20th Century. But I can tell you this, I was pretty close to him for this book. I mean, you travel a year with someone, and you see them in all sorts of moods. I never saw things back up on him. He was a very spiritual man. And he gained so much from his contact with people. Anytime he seemed to need a burst of energy, he would go up to a stranger and just start talking.

BB: Buck really did need people as much as they needed him, didn’t he? I love the story about him taking a break during a hot day, and finding a young boy to talk to, and by the end of their chat, he was revitalized.

Pos: There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that Buck’s connection to people is what kept him so alive and so hopeful about the world through 94-plus years. There is a constant theme in this book, I think. Whenever Buck felt a little tired, a little down — a little bit “old,” you could say — he would find someone to connect with. Sometimes, like in the chapter you mention, it was a child. Other times it was woman in a red dress or a man in an art gallery or a couple kissing in an airport. He never talked about these things — it wasn’t like he said, “Hey, I need to go talk to some strangers now.” He just did it. And it was always amazing to me the way he seemed reborn after connecting with someone.

(more…)

I fully expect Daisuke Matsuzaka to be more than formidable this season. The Bombers can survive a strong rookie season from him; they’ll have cause for concern if Paplebon and Beckett are monsters. Fortunately, Yankee fans up north are staying warm thinking about Phillip Hughes, who is profiled by Jayson Stark today at ESPN.com.

Speaking of chill, the latest round of steriod stories are predictably depressing. Check out Jon Weisman’s excellent post on matter over at Dodger Thoughts.

Book Excerpt

The award-winning sportswriter Joe Posnanski has just published a book about Buck O’Neil called The Soul of Baseball. Pos followed Buck around for a year. This book is about their time together. It is a wonderful reminder of what a special man Buck was. Here’s an excerpt to give you a taste. I’ll have a Q&A with Pos up shortly. In the meantime, head on over to your favorite bookshop and grab a copy for yourself.

Enjoy!

from The Soul of Baseball by Joe Posnanski

Summertime

Buck kept coming back to the old woman. Every city Buck had visited that summer seemed hotter than the city before, but this was the heat crescendo— Washington roasted. Gnats and flies attacked in the humidity. Buck kept talking about the old woman. She had walked across the street in front of the car, and Buck watched her. She was seventy or so, gray hair, small, she wore a long dress and a silver jacket. She carried two small plastic bags of groceries. She walked slowly, like she was considering whether to turn back.

The woman came upon a puddle in front of the curb, a puddle big enough to have condominiums built around it. Buck said: “Puddles in Washington must be bigger than anywhere else in America. The sewers must be backed up or something.” The driver made a crack about sewers and politicians. The woman stood by the puddle a few seconds. She studied it, measured it perhaps. She then seemed to bend her knees and lean forward, as if she intended to jump across. Buck held his breath. Then she shivered, as if a cool breeze had passed through her, and she stood up straight, took one longing glance at the puddle, and made the long trek around.

“Hold on for a second,” Buck said to the driver. Buck stepped out of the car and walked up to the woman. He offered to carry her groceries, but she said she could manage fi ne. He said to her, “I saw you standing there by that puddle.”

She smiled. “Yeah?”

“I thought you were going to jump over it for a minute there.”

“You did, huh? I thought about it. There was a time, you know.”

“I know,” Buck said. “There was a time.”

(more…)

They’ve got it really groovin’,
Whacking that horsehide harder,
Those Yankees are alive.

Anyone remember that old Yankee jingle for WPIX? I hadn’t heard it since I was a kid but found it on YouTube the other night. The horns used to get me jacked-up. I never could figure out what they were saying after “groovin,” but I remember something about a horse. “Whacking-that-horsehide-harder,” I said to Emily after I played her the clip. “I wonder who came up with that one?”

“Someone who was clearly sexually frustrated,” she replied.

On 11 Alive!

Oh, and while I was at it, I found an old ad for the Reggie Bar too.

By Bruce Markusen

Throughout the year, we’ll be spotlighting a variety of historic baseball cards at Baseball Toaster. Some will feature former Yankees, and most will be from the sixties, seventies, and eighties. We’ll discuss some of the intricacies of the cards–and the players featured on them. We hope you enjoy them.

I started collecting baseball cards in 1972. That was 35 years ago, though it seems more like three and a half. I remember well my first trip to Gillard’s Stationary Store in my hometown of Bronxville, New York. My first card, the one that was on the top of the pack I purchased, featured Dave Cash of the World Champion Pittsburgh Pirates. That seemed to be pretty good luck to me, obtaining the card of an everyday player for the best team in baseball.

It wasn’t until many years later that I happened to pick up another card that turned out to be a favorite of mine, No. 692 in that old Topps set. Back then, Topps issued cards in series, with the high-numbered cards usually released sometime in August. By then, most of us had moved on to collecting football cards for the upcoming NFL season. So I never even saw Curt Blefary’s high-numbered action card that year. I didn’t pick it up until I had started to become a serious collector, buying it for a few dollars from a local baseball card dealer sometime during the 1980s.

Why did I like that Blefary card? First, it was an action card, which was fairly rare back then. In 1972, Topps heralded every one of its action shots by surrounding it with a bold red border, topped off by the words, “In Action,” near the top of the card. Second, I loved the Oakland A’s of that era, the height of Charlie Finley’s green-and-gold dynasty. And third, Blefary was a former Yankee, always my most favored team.

(more…)

Yo, I just thought this was too funny:

“I felt kind of sexy up there today and I don’t know why,” [Jason]Giambi said. “I usually look to get hot the last week of the spring.”

[Johnny] Damon built a gym in his Orlando home this past off-season and bulked up to the point he said he came to camp five pounds over the 212-pound reporting date. He has shed four pounds since arriving.

“I wanted to look good with my shirt off,” Damon said of hitting the weights. “My wife still digs me. You have to keep your sexiness at all times.”

I wonder if Tank Pratt ever feels sexy.

When I was growing up, my grandparent’s lived on 81st street, directly across from The Museum of Natural History. Their apartment served as a homebase for my father at various times, and I was often dispatched to Zabars, the specialty food shop, just a few blocks away on Broadway. I was usually asked to get the same thing: a beef salami and a seeded rye, sliced (must be seeded, must be sliced, I learned the hard way). The salamis hung above the meat counter and you had to take a number before being served.

One time, when my twin sister Sam and I were 12 or 13, we were standing on line facing the counter, when we heard two excited voices from behind us. They were discussing all of the treats behind the glass counter. In a nifty bit of timing, we both turned our heads around slowly, and who should we see but Danny Devito and Rea Pearlman. I think we may have had an inch on them, but we were essentially looking at them eye-to-eye. Just as our heads were completely turned, facing them, they stopped talking, looked up at us, and gave us a big smiled. They waved, which was comic because they were standing about two feet away. We turned our heads slowly back around, looked at each other and shrugged.

Zabars is still around of course (it practically takes up the entire block now). I stopped in earlier this week and was nearly floored when I got to the deli counter and found that there were no salamis hanging above it anymore. It made me think of my father. They still sell beef salami, but it just isn’t the same. Such is life in the big city. But I did feel better–at least somewhat comforted–after reading Alex Witchel’s piece in The Times yesterday. Hey, I’m thankful that Zabars is still here–and it’s not likely to go anywhere for at least a minute.

Bobby Abreu has suffered

Bernie and the Yanks (From the Outside Looking In)

AVG  OBP  SLG  OPS
Crosby   .207 .258 .299 .557
Phillips  .240 .281 .394 .675
Wilson   .212 .248 .365 .613

AVG  OBP  SLG  OPS
vs. LHP   .308 .397 .503 .900
vs. RHP   .292 .373 .465 .838

AVG  OBP  SLG  OPS
vs. LHP   .195 .233 .244 .477
vs. RHP   .262 .305 .470 .775

AVG  OBP  SLG  OPS
vs. LHP   .292 .357 .500 .857
vs. RHP   .257 .325 .460 .785

AVG  OBP  SLG  OPS
1st Half  .282 .323 .416 .739
2nd Half  .278 .347 .468 .815