Final game of the year today. AJ Burnett starts, with Joba due to pitch in relief.

Wunnerful season so far. Let’s hope this is just the start.

Go Git ‘Em Boys!

From Daily News beat writer Mark Feinsand:

Could Joe Girardi’s desire to get the backup catcher some at-bats be a sign that he has bigger things in store for Molina in the playoffs?

Molina, who went 1-for-4, has caught six of A.J. Burnett’s last seven starts, helping the righthander get back on track with three solid outings in a row following a rocky month. Burnett makes his final start of the regular season tomorrow, and Girardi said Molina would be behind the plate, further fueling speculation that Molina and not Jorge Posada will catch Burnett in the postseason.

This was a frequent topic of discussion between Michael Kay and David Cone during Friday night’s YES telecast.

The refrain went something like this:

“Why would you take the bat of either Jorge Posada or Hideki Matsui out of the lineup? … Joe Girardi doesn’t believe in personal catchers…”

The argument reminded me of 2005, when a similar debate regarding who would catch Randy Johnson took place. Joe Torre, then the manager — who also said he didn’t believe in personal catchers — opted to have John Flaherty catch the Big Unit. Johnson failed miserably in his Game 3 start, allowing five earned runs in three innings of what would be an 11-7 loss. Flaherty was pinch-hit for in the bottom half of that third inning. Ultimately, since the Yankees’ offense got Johnson off the hook, Torre’s choice of who to list at the No. 2 position didn’t cost the Yankees the game.

This year’s predicament is different for a couple of reasons: 1) The feud between Burnett and Posada didn’t go public until mid-August. By that time in ’05, Flaherty had already been catching Johnson for two months. 2) Posada’s bout with Burnett isn’t nearly as nasty and didn’t cause ripples in the clubhouse like his ordeal with Johnson. It’s not like Burnett hasn’t pitched well with Posada as his battery mate, either. His start against the Red Sox and Josh Beckett on August 7 at the Stadium was arguably his best of the season.

However, Burnett’s stats since the August 22 debacle at Fenway don’t lie. Subtracting the September 1 start at Camden Yards — in which he gave up six earned runs in 5 1/3 innings with Posada behind the plate — Burnett has averaged 6 1/3 innings pitched, had four outings where he allowed two runs or fewer, and averaged 1.26 strikeouts per innings pitched.

Based on the recent success, Molina probably should catch Burnett. Who starts at DH — either Posada or Matsui — will likely be determined by the Yankees’ ALDS opponent. The Yankees could be looking at either Rick Porcello or Nate Robertson of Detroit, or Nick Blackburn or Carl Pavano of Minnesota, depending on whether Burnett pitches Game 2 or 3. The only scenario that might push Girardi to lean toward Posada at DH is if the left-handed Robertson opposes Burnett. This enables Girardi to take advantage of Posada’s right-handed bat. Doing so would leave some to wonder how Matsui and his .984 OPS against lefties this season could be benched. Isn’t this a good problem for Girardi to have? Why isn’t that being mentioned?

Cone’s take on the debate was that in the postseason, good pitching beats good hitting. First and foremost, a team has to feel comfortable with the starting pitcher. Further, that pitcher has to have confidence in his catcher. By that logic, Molina should catch Burnett next week, whenever his turn is.

As a fan — and let’s face it, we’re all fans here — as long as it’s been since the Yankees won a playoff series, do you care who catches or DHes as long as they win?

Neither do I.

I couldn’t concentrate on the Yankee game tonight (they lost 5-3). Instead, I watched the Tigers lose to the White Sox and thought about what I’d do if I rooted for the Tigers.

Objects would be thrown, items would be broken. Dag, it’s enough to drive you to drink.

At least it makes for an exciting final day of the regular season, don’t it?

Uh, and this is neurotic, superstitious gahbige, but for what it is worth, the Yanks have won exactly 103 games four times in their history: 1942, lost the World Series; 1954, second place; 1980, lost in the playoffs; and 2002, lost in the playoffs. If they win tomorrow, they’ll finish the season with 103 wins.

Then again, I grew up on 103rd street so the number is cool by me. But if I was a superstitious sort…I’m just sayin!

So the Twins pull out a 5-4 win and now it is on the Tigers to win tonight. Man, it’d be great if the Tigers lose somehow, giving some real juice to the final day of the season.

Andy Pettitte goes for the Yanks tonight.

Nobody get hurt and nobody gets hurt.

Time to pad some stats. Let’s Go Yan-Kees!

(And, Let’s Go White Sox.)

Just loved this recent post by my man Steinski:

Like the pack rat I am, I’ve been carrying around the December 1975 copy of Esquire – the theme of the issue is Great American Things – because it contains a lovely profile of Duke Ellington written by photographer/director/author Gordon Parks, illustrated with his photos. In the mid-1950’s Parks traveled with Ellington and his band (probably for LIFE Magazine), and his reminiscences of that time have charming insights about Duke and the band.

In one particularly great story, Duke (also referred to as Edward and Big Red) is sleeping in the backseat of a car driven by Harry Carney, with Parks as a passenger.
Harry Carney, who had been with Edward longer than anyone else in the band, became his driving companion, or better, his private chauffeur. The three of us were approaching San Francisco early one morning after an overnight drive from Los Angeles. In the distance, the Golden Gate Bridge floated eerily in the dawn mist rising above the bay. Harry called Edward, who was asleep in the back seat. “Hey, Big Red, wake up and look over yonder. Looks like something you might want to write about.” Duke stirred awake, wiped his eyes and looked at the bridge. “Majestic. Majestic. Goddamn those white people are smart,” he mumbled and fell back to sleep.

And Duke wasn’t the only one who was good off the cuff. The story continues:

When we reached our hotel, Paul Gonsalves was stumbling out, stoned out of his mind. Edward sleepily looked him over.

“Where you headed so early, my man?”

“Fishing,” Paul answered without stopping.

“Fishing? You’re not dressed for fishing, man.”

“Shit, Duke, I ain’t trying to impress no fish. I just wanna catch some of the bastards. See you later.”

Here’s a site worth checking out: Sports Propaganda Prints.

The one and only Charles Pierce on the one and only Tony LaRussa:

I first became aware of this particular blight when he worked in Oakland a decade or two ago, back in the days before Beane turned the A’s into a mirror with which to show himself his true genius. First thing you heard was that La Russa had a law degree. This was meant to portray him as something of a baseball intellectual, which heretofore had been defined as someone who spit tobacco on his own shoes and not yours. I was fascinated by the fascination with this; I mean, the world is full of lawyers. (So, for that matter, are various low-security prisons, but that’s another story.) I wondered how many of his acolytes would hire Tony La Russa and his law degree to defend them on a capital-murder charge. Not many, I reckoned.

Then there was the ballet school T-shirt. La Russa used to wear this all the time in his post-game interviews. This was meant to portray him as something of a baseball aesthete, which heretofore had been defined as someone who put something larger than a $1 bill into the stripper’s G-string. This particular bluff worked until the night when, while wearing the ballet-school T-shirt, La Russa bum-rushed an elderly reporter from his clubhouse. This is not something Diaghilev would have done — not even to people throwing apples at his head.

But the truly remarkable thing about La Russa is his rather unspectacular record at winning anything that counts. Eugene McCarthy once said of Walter Mondale that the latter “had the soul of a vice-president.” Tony La Russa has the soul of a semifinalist.

For more LaRussa-related ugliness, check out this Deadspin post featuring Buzz Bissinger.

Thanks to Baseball Think Factory for the links.

In what already seems like an overwhelming year for public deaths, comes the news that Mr. Magic has reportedly died of a heart attack. He was 46.

Childhood slips away more and more each day.

In what is likely a sign of the times, Joe Girardi has become a lightning rod for debate in these parts. Even in the midst of a 100-plus win season and a guarantee of the best regular season record in baseball, Girardi still has his share of critics. They say he bunts too much, brings too much tension to the dugout, doesn’t tell the truth about injuries, mishandles the bullpen, etc, etc, etc.

Such is life in the age of the Internet and talk radio. Every manager, no matter how successful, is severely criticized by a percentage of his team’s fan base. Every manager fails at handling the bullpen, an inevitable gripe when a manager has six or seven fulltime relievers. If you listen to the criticism long enough, you’ll soon believe that every manager is the reincarnation of the village idiot.

So what is the reality? In the case of Girardi, his biggest weakness is probably an over reliance on the sacrifice bunt. If that’s his Achilles heel as a manager, then he grades out pretty well. Girardi has done a very good job in 2009, as indicated by the team’s total of 102 wins, with the potential of three more wins this weekend. When I looked at this Yankee team in the spring, I tried to assess the club objectively. Weighing the strengths of a tough schedule and a difficult division, along with the absence of the team’s best player for six weeks, I considered the Yankees a 95-win team. So at this point, Girardi has guided the Yankees to at least seven more wins than I originally projected. In my mind, that is significant overachievement, which is worthy of praise, not derision.

Girardi has succeeded in relaxing the atmosphere in 2009, compared to the general tension he created last year. He doesn’t make major mistakes with his lineup, uses his improved bench sufficiently, and distributes the workload in the bullpen evenly. In terms of preparation and reviewing scouting reports, I don’t know of a manager who puts in more hours or works any harder. Girardi’s high level work ethic is unquestionable.

If you don’t believe me, consider some of the other precincts registering votes. After the Yankees clinched the AL East on Sunday, reporters asked Alex Rodriguez who should be considered the team’s MVP. Rodriguez listed the accomplishments of several teammates, but then ultimately answered “Girardi.” And when the results of the AL Manager of the Year award are announced, do not be surprised if Girardi receives a few votes and finishes third, behind only Ron Washington and Mike Scioscia. Joe Girardi, with his smarts, toughness, and willingness to work, is a keeper.

(more…)

The game ended in a tie when it hit the two-hour time limit, a standard tournament practice, but it didn’t lessen the disappointment. For the first time, KB began worrying about baseball rather than just playing it. He pitched several solid games, but as the season progressed, he started making uncharacteristic errors. In July, he began asking his father for ice after games, something he had never done before. With all the games he’d been playing for different teams, KB had racked up a lot of innings. “My arm feels funny,” KB said. The number of teenagers needing Tommy John surgery, a complex operation in which torn elbow ligaments are replaced with tendons, has increased from nearly zero a decade ago to hundreds last year. Doctors cite the additional innings kids are pitching as a primary cause. “It’s not a natural motion,” says Dr. Frank Jobe, who pioneered the surgery for major-leaguers in the seventies. “Kids’ bodies are still growing, and their mechanics are not what they should be. It’s just too much at that age.”

Despite being an orthopedic surgeon himself, Karl left much of the decision-making about throwing to his son. When he tried to yank KB from one of his grade-school games, KB shouted back, “I’ve got a no-hitter. I’m staying in.” Karl didn’t fight him.

But here’s a little leftover slice of Uptown Flavor:

(more…)

Here’s a little something in case you can’t make it out to Brooklyn tonight to hear Larry Tye talk about his new book, Satchel: The Life and Times of an American Legend. Larry was good enough to spend part of his morning last week talking to me about Satchel Paige and Negro League baseball. Enjoy…

BronxBanter:  Your previous four books dealt with public relations, the Jewish diaspora, Pullman porters, and shock therapy. How did you get from there to Satchel Paige?

Larry Tye:  When I was writing the Pullman porter book, the porters told that of all the extraordinary characters that they had carried on the trains, from Joe Louis to Louie Armstrong to Paul Robeson, their favorite was Satchel Paige. And I had grown up hearing wonderful stories about Satchel as being the guy that every pitcher was compared to, and yet nobody really knew much about Satchel. So the porters really reignited my childhood interest in Satchel, and it seemed like a great time to do it.

BB:  Were you a baseball fan growing up?

LT:  I was. I was a huge Red Sox fan growing up, and every time I would go to a ballgame, my dad, any time there was a great pitcher, would always compare him to Satchel. But when I would ask, “What about Satchel Paige?” nobody really seemed to know much because he had played so much of his career in a shadow world.

BB:  Right, he seems almost like a legend as opposed to a real man with real statistics and real information behind him.

LT:  He did, and sort of every journalist or author out there sort of trying to understand how much of every legend is real, and Satchel seemed a wonderful way to do that.

BB:  I wonder if you could walk me through your process a bit. What kind of research was involved, and at one point did you sit down and start wrting?

LT:  I spent more than a year reading everything that had ever been written about Satchel, which meant looking at references to him or entire books. Probably a hundred books about Satchel or the Negro Leagues or some mention. Tens of thousands of articles from African-American and mainstream newspapers, loads of magazine pieces done over the years, and most importantly interviewing. I interviewed more than two hundred old major leagues and Negro leaguers. So it was partly trying to see what was there in terms of the written evidence, and partly trying to fill in the blanks with first-hand recollections of people who had been there with him, playing with him or against him. It was only after that work was well along, after about a year, that I started writing.

(more…)

No pie tonight. I’m not jokin.

Joba Chamberlain was lousy though the Royals didn’t kick his teeth in. They did enough against the Yanks though as they pulled out a 4-3 win. Mariano pitched a scoreless ninth. Derek Jeter hit his 18th homer of the year. Nick Swisher hit a two-run bomb and lost a ball in right allowing a run to score. The Yanks had runners on second and third with two out in the ninth but Ramiro Pena popped out to end it.

Truth is, I found it hard to concentrate on the game and I had it on all evening.

But it was cool in New York tonight and I’m already getting amped for next week when the games will matter and we’ll all be hootin’ and hollerin’.

Final regular season game at the Stadium tonight and life is free and easy for the Yanks until next week.

Nobody get hurt, will ya, hah?

Tomorrow night, a Pos speaks in Brooklyn. And so does Larry Tye. Part of the Gelf magazine Varsity Letters series.  I’ll be there with Emma. Should be a good one.

Allen Barra, SI.com, an artist named Thom Ross, Willie Mays.

‘Nuff said.

I spent the evening flipping back-and-forth between the Yankees-Royals and the Tigers-Twins, listening to my wife concentrating (Is something burning?) and then cursing at her laptop as she attempted to book a flight on-line.  I watched more of the Yankees game but for the life of me I couldn’t tell you what happened.  It unfolded in a blur, with John Flaherty and Michael Kay rattling on about whatever they get paid to rattle on about.

AJ Burnett struck guys out and pitched well. The Royals starting pitcher had a French-sounding name, funny side burns, and was even better. Mark Teixiera hit a cheap dinger off a change-up that was high and outside. He hooked it to right field, it hit off the top of the wall and skipped into the seats like a flat rock thrown into a lake. Later, Phil Coke shanked a throw to second, blowing a sure double play, and then he didn’t go home when he had a play at the plate. Two runs scored. Oh, Nick Swisher hit a bomb to center field. The cameras showed Phil Hughes warming up in the bullpen. He has a pencil-thin mustache that makes him look a secret agent in an old British spy movie or a hick gas station attendant from the movie Tex.

Kyle Karnsworth, the man who disappointed us by never flexing his pinstriped muscles in a scrap while he played in New York, pitched the ninth inning. And Farnsworth being Farnsworth, things fell apart quickly and right on schedule:  He struck out the lead-off man (Brett Gardner), then gave up an infield hit (Francisco Cervelli), a pinch-hit single (Eric Hinske), and a game-tying sac fly to Robbie Cano, also pinch-hitting. Then Hinske stole second, the throw went into center field and Hinske lumbered on to third diving in safely. Johnny Damon was walked intentionally and Juan Miranda hit a line drive off of Farnsworth’s leg. The ball bounced toward the Yankee dugout, Farnsworth chased after it, and crossed Miranda, who was on his way to first. Hinske scored and the Yankees won 4-3.

Michael Kay shouted about “The Year of the Walk-Off,” his voice now horse.  This was the Yankees’ 15th “walk-off” win of the season.

Pie and smiles and the 102nd win of the year for New York.

Meanwhile, Tom Verducci has a profile on our man Mariano this week in Sports Illustrated. In fact, Rivera made the cover.

The piece is full of goodies:

“I have respect for Mariano like I have for my father,” says Boston designated hitter David Ortiz. “Why? He’s just different. If you talk to him at an All-Star Game, it’s like talking to somebody who just got called up. To him, everybody else is good. I don’t get it. To him everybody else is the best. It’s unbelievable. And he is the greatest.

“You know what? Sometimes in those times when he struggles, like when I watch him on TV, I feel bad for him. I seriously do. Good people, you want to do well.”

Told of this respect from his peers, especially from within the enemy clubhouse in Boston, Rivera is grateful, if slightly uncomfortable. “I don’t wait for people to give me respect,” Rivera says. “I always give them respect. Any player. Even a rookie, an old player, a veteran. I never try to show up anybody. I go to my business. I always take time for somebody who wants to talk to me. That’s my thing.

“It comes from back home. Family. My father was strict and always taught me no matter who it is, everybody is an uncle. To me, everybody was someone I respect like family. I grew up with that.”

…”My mental approach is simple: Get three outs. As quick as possible,” he says. “If I can throw three, four pitches, the better it is. I don’t care how I get you out. As long as I get you out. The quicker, the better. And that’s the only thing I have in mind.”

…”I love everything about pitching,” Rivera says. “Just being on the mound. Being on the mound and competing. There is nobody to come and save you. You have to get it done. There is no time to play around. It’s time to get it done and go home.

“I mean, this is what I do. This is what I was picked to do. There is no hitting. There is no running. When I’m here, on the mound … ahh, this is my world.”

Rivera knows himself, his place in the world, and seems to be perfectly suited to his job. Nice job by Verducci.

Finally, all of our best to Pete Abe who covered his last game for the Lo-Hud tonight. Good luck in Boston, Pete. And good news for us, as Chad Jennings will take over for Pete on the Yankee blog beat. Jennings has been terrific covering the minor leagues and he’s as good a cherce as we could have hoped for to replace Pete.

Yup, lots of winners in Yankeeland tonight.

Me, not the Yanks that is.

Here’s the game thread, better late than never.

Go Go Yanks. (Is it October yet?)

Derek Jeter has made news on three different fronts in 2009. First, his defensive range and overall fielding have improved significantly, a direct result of improved conditioning and agility drills. Second, he successfully pursued and then overtook the iconic Lou Gehrig for the franchise’s all-time lead in hits. And third, Jeter’s revitalized hitting has made him an outside candidate for American League MVP honors, a resurgence that figures to place him in the top ten of league balloting for the prestigious award.

Jeter deserves to make a few headlines in a fourth respect, as well. Very quietly, he has been named the Yankees’ nominee for another prestigious award—the Roberto Clemente Award. Named for the baseball hero who did so much work for underprivileged youth and lost his life attempting to airlift relief supplies to earthquake-ravaged Nicaragua, it is one of the few awards that make an effort at judging and measuring a player’s level of character. Given Jeter’s popularity in the clubhouse, his leadership as Yankee captain, his involvement in charitable works, and his generally exemplary off-the-field behavior, it should come as no surprise that Jeter has made the final cut of 30 candidates for the Clemente Award.

With Jeter and Clemente sharing so many common character attributes—loyalty, leadership, and reliability come to mind—it seems appropriate to put the spotlight on Clemente’s final Topps card, which came out over 35 years ago. It is a card that always stirs sadness, fond reflection, and moral debate in this writer’s mind.

At the time that Clemente died so horrifically and unexpectedly in a New Year’s Eve plane crash in 1972, the Topps Company had already produced his baseball card for the 1973 season. The tragically untimely passing of one of the game’s superstars placed Topps in an especially difficult quandary: should the company continue its original plan and issue a card for a venerable player who was deceased, or should it pull the card from distribution out of respect for the loss of a revered legend?

After some internal debate and discussion, Topps opted to publish the card, which had been assigned No. 50 in the series. Topps certainly had precedence on its side, having issued a 1964 “In Memoriam” card for Ken Hubbs after the young Chicago Cubs second baseman who died while piloting his own plane. On a subjective note, I have to say that I heartily endorsed the decision. As one of the few Topps card that depicts Clemente in action, it’s an inherently aesthetic card. Clemente’s beloved status also mandated the publication of the card. As a player so revered, his fans deserved to have one last memento of Clemente. On all fronts, this seemed like the right decision by the folks at Topps.

Rookie cards usually carry the highest value on the open market, but for me, the final regular issue card carries far more sentimental appeal. That is especially the case with Clemente. Rather than fade into obscurity, the final card of Clemente has become the most attractive of all the Clemente cards that Topps had ever produced. The card displays the typically dignified grace of Clemente as he stands rather regally in the right-handed batter’s box. Ever determined, he eyes an unknown New York Mets pitcher in anticipation of swinging at the next pitch. The card also features Mets catcher Jerry Grote (wearing No. 15), who was regarded as one of the game’s finest defensive catchers in the early 1970s.

Amidst all of its classic elements, a common misconception about the card persists. Some fans assume that it shows Clemente during his historic at-bat on September 30, 1972, when he collected his 3,000th and final major league hit against the Mets’ Jon Matlack. Although the Mets did indeed provide the opposition that day, that game was played at Pittsburgh’s Three Rivers Stadium; the background on the front of the card and the home pinstriped Mets uniform worn by Grote indicate that the Mets’ spring training site likely provided the setting for the card’s photograph.

This card will always serve as a reminder to me of what Clemente looked like on the playing field. That reminder is important because I only saw Clemente for a couple of years at the end of his career, a by-product of my extreme youthfulness at the time. But now I am reminded of Clemente a little more whenever I watch Derek Jeter take the field.

Bruce Markusen has written two books centered on the life and times of Roberto Clemente.

Jim Carroll, a classic New York figure–troubled and talented–passed away on September 11th. I missed it until I saw this fine appreciation by Alex Williams in Sunday’s New York Times.

I read The Basketball Diaries years ago and remember liking it very much, especially the parts about the Upper West Side back when it was a rough and tumble neighbhorhood.