The Yankees travelled to Boston for a Memorial Day doubleheader, one of six twinbills played during DiMaggio’s streak, another notable difference between baseball then and now. A sell-out crowd of 34,500 crammed into Fenway Park as the Yanks and Sox split the pair. In the opener, things looked bleak for the Yankees and DiMaggio as they came to bat in the top of the ninth trailing 3-1. Still without a hit, DiMaggio came up in the final inning with a runner on first. He singled to keep the rally (and the streak) alive, and New York eventually scored three times to take the one-run lead that would give them a 4-3 victory. In the nightcap, Boston hammered the Yankees, beating them 13-0, but DiMaggio was awarded a hit on a fly ball lofted high into the wind and sun that often plagued Fenway’s right field. Boston’s Pete Fox tried valiantly to make the catch, but the ball fell untouched at his feet, and DiMaggio scampered into second base with a double.

Aside from the two hits, DiMaggio’s day was utterly forgettable. Normally one of the best defensive outfielders in the game, DiMaggio earned his nickname, the Yankee Clipper, with the effortless way in which he sailed across the outfield grass in pursuit of flyballs. On this day, however, he was charged with an error in the opening game and three more in the second, making this perhaps his worst day in the field. None of this, however, affected the streak.

I’ll tell you a secret. I hate the Angels. I hate them about a hundred times more than the Red Sox, a thousand more times than the Rays. I hate the way Mike Scioscia cocks his head and squints his eyes in confusion whenever a call goes against him. I hate the scrappiness, I hate the hustle, I hate the font of the numbers on the backs of their jerseys.

After a disappointing loss on Monday night, the Yankees returned to the scene of the crime on Tuesday and looked to bounce back into the win column. The problem, though, was that the Angels were sending Dan Haren to the mound. Haren has been unhittable recently, most notably in his last start against Seattle when he authored a 3-0 shutout that featured 14 strikeouts and zero walks, only the third time in the past dozen years that pitcher done that (a shutout with 14 Ks and zero walks). Opposing Haren would be the ageless wonder, Andy Pettitte.

I touched on this yesterday, but it cannot be understated. The Angels, as nauseating as they are, are an exciting team to watch, and it all starts with their youngest player, Mike Trout. On Monday night he flexed his muscles by bashing his fifth home run of the season, but on Tuesday he showed some of his other skills, namely speed and defense. With two outs and no one on in the bottom of the second inning, Nick Swisher launched a rocket to left center, but that’s Trout territory. He ran down the drive, leaping and snaring it just as it may or may not have left the park.

And how often does it happen? A guy makes a great player in the field, and two innings later he comes to the plate with a runner on second. Trout rifled a ball past third and down the line. The speedy Peter Bourjos coasted in easily on what seemed like a certain double from Trout. But Trout is probably in Brett Gardner’s class as a runner, and slid into third with a triple — on a ball hit into the left field corner. The whole world is crushing on Bryce Harper right now, and justifiably so, but check the numbers. Trout is outplaying the kid with the faux hawk.

The Angels push the envelope at all turns, so Trout went on contact and ran into an out at home on a grounder to Eric Chávez, but Albert Pújols erased that mistake seconds later when he smashed a no-doubter into the Yankee bullpen far beyond the left field fence for a 3-0 Angels lead. Pettitte would later call it “just a stupid pitch by me.” It seems the reports of Sir Albert’s demise were, indeed, highly exaggerated.

The Yankee hitters continued to struggle, and again they continued to fail with the bases loaded. In the half inning before the Angels scored those three runs, the Yanks had had a golden opportunity when they loaded the bases with two outs and Robinson Canó at the plate. A base hit there would’ve given Pettitte a cushion, pushed Haren a bit, and opened a lead, but instead Canó watched strike three dart across the outside corner. Fifteen minutes later it was the Angels who were giving the cushion, doing the pushing, and opening the lead.

Raúl Ibáñez doubled with one out in the fourth, and Nick Swisher quickly cashed him in with a hard single to right, bringing the Yankees to within two runs and breathing a little hope into the situation.

Following Swisher’s base hit, the next fifteen Yankees and Angels to come to the plate were all retired without the ball ever leaving the infield. Pettitte and Haren combined to gather nine groundouts, four strikeouts, a popup and a line out. The sixteenth hitter, however, was the Angels Mark Trumbo. Trumbo broke the string in the bottom of the sixth with a mammoth 433-foot blast into the rocks in center field, widening the Anaheim* lead to 4-1.

The Yankees put two runners on in the seventh, then two more in the eighth, but couldn’t make anything out of either opportunity. Then, more to taunt the Yankees than anything else, the Angels manufactured another run in the bottom of the eighth: single, ground out, single. It was all so easy, and in a game that had been close all night long, the Yankees were suddenly a grand slam behind.

The Yankees mounted a rally in the ninth as they often do, starting with a walks to Russell Martin and Derek Jeter. Granderson flicked a line drive to left, and it looked like a sure base hit, but again, left field is Trout territory, so it turned into an out. Angel reliever Ernesto Frieri plunked Alex Rodríguez, and suddenly the bases were loaded and Canó was walking to the plate as the potential tying run.

But if you’ve been paying attention lately, you know that the Yankees don’t get hits with the bases loaded. Canó struck out swinging. As the Angels announcer is fond of saying at the end of each victory, “Light that baby up.” Angels 5, Yankees 1. Lord help me.

*I know they’re not the Anaheim Angels, but they’re not the Los Angeles Angels, either. They don’t play in Los Angeles. They don’t play anywhere near Los Angeles.

[Photo Credit: Harry How/Getty Images]

A darkened sky threatening rain all afternoon and a stifling ninety-seven degree heat combined to keep attendance at a mere 1,500 in Washington as the Senators and Yankees tied 2-2 in a rain-shortened five-inning game. DiMaggio had been battling illness for a few days, but he was lucky enough to single and score in the fourth inning, extending his streak to fourteen games. Rookie Johnny Sturm, however, waited until the top of the sixth to record his basehit, only to see it washed away when the rains came before the Senators could hit in the home half of the inning. By rule, the score reverted to the last completed inning, and everything that happened in the Yankee half of the sixth was wiped out, including Sturm’s streak. Crosetti also singled in the fourth to keep his streak going at eleven. Though still unaware of DiMaggio’s streak, the New York Times reported one interesting note from the game. DiMaggio struck out for only the third time all season. He had struck out twice in the same game on April 25th, then waited 113 at bats before doing so again on this afternoon.

There aren’t too many games you can point to as “must wins,” especially in the closing days of May, especially when the team is in the middle of a west coast road trip, especially when the team is also riding a five-game winning streak. I’m not ready to say this game on Memorial Day night in Anaheim was a must-win, but it was certainly a game that should’ve been a victory.

Even though Phil Hughes had looked much better recently, the match-up didn’t look good on paper, as the Angels were sending their ace Jered Weaver out to start the series. Aside from Justin Verlander, Weaver has probably been the best pitcher in the American League for the past few years, and except for a bad start in Texas, Weaver has been dominant again this year. This was a game that looked like a Yankee loss before the first pitch was even thrown.

When the second pitch was thrown, however, Derek Jeter smoked a line drive into left field; five pitches later Curtis Granderson waited on a breaking ball and grounded it through the hole between short and third, and the Yankees suddenly had runners on first and second with no one out. Alex Rodríguez came up next and hit a hard grounder just to the right of shortstop Erick Aybar. It looked like a certain double play, but the ball skipped off of Aybar’s glove and somehow bounded over his shoulder into short center field, allowing Jeter to score easily and put runners on first and third.

Working to Robinson Canó, Weaver got a called strike to even the count at 1-1, but immediately started limping on his follow through, triggering a wave of discomfort in the stands and bringing Mike Scioscia and his support staff to the mound. Pitchers scare their managers all the time by catching a spike during a windup and coming up temporarily lame. They look into the dugout and say they’re fine, but the trainer still comes out to watch them throw a test pitch or two, but everything’s fine. Almost immediately it was clear that that wasn’t going to happen this time. Weaver slowly walked to the back of the mound, and when the cameras caught a glimpse of his face, it wasn’t pain that registered, but the frustration of an athlete whose body had betrayed him. Weaver knew this was serious even before he took his practice pitch and wasn’t able to complete it.

He walked off the mound, clenched his fist, and screamed “Fuuuuck!” at the top of his lungs, loud enough to be picked up by the crowd mikes and every ten-year-old in the lower tier. In case any of those ten-year-olds had missed it, he repeated himself just as he stepped into foul territory. Later the Angels would report he was suffering from a lower back injury.

It’s probably not appropriate to take pleasure in an opponent’s injury, but it’s perfectly fine to joyfully accept the opportunity that injury presents. The Yankees already had a 1-0 lead, there were runners at the corners with no outs, and the Angels were going to have to get 27 outs with their bullpen. Things looked good, about as good as they can look.

Bobby Cassevah came in for the Angels and struck out Canó, but then walked Mark Teixeira to load the bases, bringing up Raúl Ibáñez, who lofted a sacrifice fly to left field, scoring Granderson. Nick Swisher came up next and squirted a dribbler to the third base side of the mound. Cassevah fielded it in plenty of time, but rushed his throw, bouncing it past Albert Pújols for an error that allowed A-Rod to score the third unearned run of the inning. Scioscia decided to walk Eric Chávez intentionally, probably because his scouts had told him that the Yankees refuse to hit with the bases loaded. Russell Martin validated that decision by flying out to center field.

Handed this 3-0 lead and free of the pressure of facing an ace, Phil Hughes promptly gave everything back. It was the same infuriating rally the Angels have been cobbling together for years: Mike Trout two-strike single; Macier Izturis fly out, Pújols single, Kendry Morales two-strike RBI single, Mark Trumbo two-strike RBI ground-rule double, Howie “Yankee Killer” Kendrick RBI single.

It was finally over two batters later, but the Angels had sent eight men to the plate, scored four runs, and gotten right back into a game that should’ve been over.

Granderson homered to right in the top of the second to tie the game at four, but the Angels struck again in the fourth. Trumbo launched a towering fly ball to the gap in right center, but both Granderson and Swisher looked as if they had a shot at it. Just as the ball settled into Swisher’s glove, however, Granderson settled into Swisher’s chest. Both men fell in a heap on the warning track, the ball bounced free, and Trumbo ran like the wind. Well, Trumbo ran like a gentle breeze. He ended up on third with a triple. Kendrick took the first pitch he saw and floated it deep enough to right for Trumbo to score on the sacrifice fly. Angels 5, Yankees 4.

Hughes was clearly struggling, but not because of his control. His pitches were finding the strike zone (66 of 87, and through the first three innings that ratio was even higher), but he had no command. Pitches meant for the corners floated out over the plate and were hit hard. Seven times he put hitters into an 0-2 hole, but only once was he able to finish off that crippled hitter with a strikeout.

Hughes was touched again in the fourth, this time when Angel rookie Mike Trout hit a rocket over the wall in left center. There’s been some lamenting lately about the lack of exciting players on the Yankee roster, and some have suggested that Jesus Montero, a home-grown talent with All-Star potential, would’ve provided that. Montero was a player fans had been waiting for patiently, reading reports of his progress through the minors before his successful arrival in the Bronx last September. Trout followed that same flight path and created that same excitement, but he wasn’t traded. Forgive me if I’m bitter.

The suddenly resurgent Teixeira, hitting right-handed now against the left-handed Hisanori Takahashi, homered in the top of the fifth to cut the lead to 6-5. Over the past four games, Tex is 10 for 16 with three doubles, four home runs, and nine RBIs. There is hope.

Hughes made it into the sixth, but he wouldn’t make it out. It was all fairly innocent, which is typical of the Angels. The speedy Peter Bourjos reached on a perfectly placed dribbler to Hughes and was then sacrificed to second. Cody Eppley replaced Hughes, and Izturis hit a grounder up the middle; Canó was able to field it, but he couldn’t get the out. After Pújols walked to load the bases, David Phelps came in to face Morales, and his first pitch was hammered to the wall in left center, scoring two and giving the Halos an 8-6 lead.

Just as Yankee fans were starting to think dark thoughts about their heroes, the Bombers put together a rally in the top of the seventh. Canó hit a laser over Bourjos’s head in center field for a double, and Teixeira followed that with a walk, prompting Scioscia to bring in his fifth pitcher of the night, Jason Isringhausen. (I know what you’re thinking — it must’ve been Jason Isringhausen, Jr. No, it was really that Jason Isringhausen.) Ibáñez greeted him with a rifle shot to right field that looked like a run-scoring double. But Trumbo got a good jump on the ball, good enough that the runners had to be cautious. The ball ended up tipping off his glove, but Canó was fooled. Thinking Trumbo had actually caught the ball, he raced back to second to tag up, so he was only able to get to third.

Still, the bases were loaded with no outs. Swisher came to the plate with an opportunity to do some serious damage, but all he could muster was a sacrifice fly. One out later, though, Russell Martin laced a line drive down the left field line to score two and even the game at eight.

The Yankees would threaten again in the ninth, but again they’d be thwarted by bad luck and bad hitting with the bases loaded. Teixeira opened the inning with a single, then moved to second when Chávez walked two outs later. Martin punched a ground ball up the middle, and again it looked like the Yankees would surely score as the ball seemed ticketed for center field. But Izturis was able to keep it in the infield. He wasn’t able to make an out, but he saved a run. Jeter came up with the bases loaded and bounced the first pitch he saw to Pújols, who flipped to second for the out.

The Yankees had four at bats with the bases loaded and finished 0 for 2 with two sacrifice flies, but there wasn’t much time to dwell on that. Cory Wade came in to pitch the bottom of the ninth and Trumbo made his third pitch disappear into the night. Fuckin’ Angels.

Sons of Bitches 9, Yankees 8.

[Photo Credit: Jeff Gross/Getty Images]

On a night when the Yankees and Washington Senators played the first ever night game in Washington’s Griffith Stadium, DiMaggio led his team to a 6-5 victory. Three interesting notes about the lights that night: One, Griffith Stadium was now one of only four American League parks to boast electric lights. Two, the lights were turned on for the first time by a Walter Johnson fastball. The retired Senator threw the ceremonial first pitch through an electric beam projected across home plate; his third attempt lit up the night. Three, Washington officials needed special permission to fly the flag after sundown for the playing of the national anthem.

Once the game was underway, the Yankees found themselves trailing 3-1 in the eighth inning as a hitless DiMaggio came to the plate. He tripled deep to right to extend his streak and trigger a five-run Pinstripe rally. In addition to DiMaggio, Johnny Sturm and Frank Crosetti also kept their streaks alive, and DiMaggio’s string was mentioned in the press for the first time in the New York World-Telegram: “Last night’s battle saw all three hitting streaks on the Yankees continued. DiMaggio hit in his thirteenth consecutive contest. Sturm in his eleventh and Crosetti in his tenth.” The fact that a player of DiMaggio’s stature could get almost two weeks into a hitting streak without being noticed underscores a major reason why this record will never be threatened. In this era of media saturation and round-the-clock sports highlights, nothing escapes the public’s unquenchable thirst for information. It isn’t uncommon to hear a television or radio announcer make mention of a three-game hitting streak, and any time a player gets a run up to twenty games, not even half way to DiMaggio, he becomes the lead story on SportsCenter. Even in 1941 DiMaggio endured scrutiny as an entire nation followed his exploits during the latter stages of his streak, but the media crush surrounding a player approaching that record today would be stifling. The physical accomplishment of fifty-six is amazing; the mental strength required to get there would be even more impressive. It’ll never happen.

For the first time, Joe DiMaggio and the Yankees took the streak on the road as they headed into Washington for a three-game series against the Senators. The Senators were near the bottom of the American League standings as play began on this day, and the Yankees took advantage of their hosts, winning 10-8. DiMaggio led the way with his first big game of the streak, as he had four hits, including a 425-foot three-run homerun to left field. Johnny Sturm continued his own march with three hits, and shortstop Frank Crosetti also rapped out three hits, allowing both men to tack another game to their own hitting streaks. The press continued to follow Sturm’s ten-game streak, and they had now caught on to Crosetti’s nine-gamer, but there would be no notice of DiMaggio until after game thirteen.

If you weren’t able to stay up late with Yankees on Friday night, you missed a comfortably boring Yankee win. Years ago major league teams would fill up their off days by hopping on the team bus and driving to play an exhibition with their AAA affiliates. (Imagine what Josh Beckett and today’s union would have to say about that!) It would keep the major leaguers sharp, give bench players an opportunity to play a full nine, give the minor league players a taste of the Show, and give a nice boost to the triple A team’s cash box.

That’s what it felt like Friday night in Oakland. (Heck, the YES Network even sent out their minor league broadcasting team, Ken Singleton and Bob Lorenz; Lorenz kept confusing Jemile Weeks and Cliff Pennington, two players who, um, don’t look anything alike. Singleton finally corrected him the last time he did it.)

There is no truth to the rumor that the Oakland franchise has petitioned the league to change its official nickname from the Athletics to the Anemics; that’s just the way they’ve been hitting. A quick scan of their starting nine reveals batting averages that look like this: 200, 167, 272, 226, 250, 147, 210, 217, and 215. Forty-six games into the season they’re still hitting just .210 as a team, easily the worst mark in baseball. (Immediately above them is the Pittsburgh Pirates at .217, the Yankees are hitting .265, and the Texas Rangers set the pace at .288. No one on the Oakland roster is hitting .288.)*

So Yankee starter Ivan Nova could be excused for drooling like Wile E. Coyote as he took the mound against this Mollycoddlers Row. Nova cruised through the first three innings, notching four groundouts and two strikeouts while yielding just a hit and a walk. Sure, he would give up a solo home run in the fourth inning to Josh Reddick, the only bat of substance in this sea of mediocrity, but that was more a mental mistake than a physical one; I can’t imagine why Reddick ever gets anything to hit.

Meanwhile, the Yankee hitters weren’t trouncing A’s starter Tyson Ross, but they were pushing him around a bit, kind of like a cat with an injured mouse or when Ali kept Floyd Patterson standing long enough to punish and humiliate him. Curtis Granderson and Alex Rodríguez singled in the first, but were stranded. Nick Swisher doubled in the second, but was stranded. Looking at the box score it looks like this was just more Yankee ineptitude with runners in scoring position, but somehow it felt different watching the game. Ross was a man racing down a dark alley, struggling to keep ahead of the Score Truck at his heels. He wouldn’t last long.

It started in the third, thanks to center fielder Coco Crisp, who is decidedly less cocky and irritating in that Oakland uniform. Two batters after a Granderson single, Robinson Canó ripped a bullet to right center. Crisp raced to his left and had the ball in his sites, but then appeared to actually overrun the ball, and it skipped off the thumb of his glove and bounced to the wall. Granderson scored easily and Canó coasted into second. A few pitches later Mark Teixeira — who may actually be alive — lurched at a pitch and jerked it over the scoreboard in right for a two-run homer and a 3-0 Yankee lead.

In the fourth it might have looked like the Yankees squandered another opportunity to put the game on ice, but I’d argue the game was already on ice. This was just gamesmanship designed to keep the home fans in their seats. Playing in his old park for the first time (the park where he was projected as a Hall of Famer, by the way), Eric Chávez drew a quick walk, then advanced to third on Russell Martin’s double. With no one out and Derek Jeter, Granderson, and Rodríguez due up, it looked like things were about to get ugly. They kinda did. Jeter looped a harmless foul ball to first for out number one (Jeter would go 0 for 5 on the night and see his average plummet to .339, his lowest mark since April 8th), then Granderson walked to load the bases with one out. A-Rod promptly grounded into a double play to end the inning.

You were asleep at this point, so this won’t make sense to you — but somehow it didn’t matter that the Yankees had failed to break the game open. Somehow, at 3-0 in the fourth, it already felt broken open. Like a piñata, only the Yankees were the big kids on the side of the party who were too cool to rush in and grab the candy.

Reddick’s home run in the bottom half would cut the Yankee lead to 3-1, but it felt more like when you were playing your little brother in ping pong and you let him get a couple points so he wouldn’t cry in the end.**

Canó led off the fifth by putting an absolutely beautiful swing on the second pitch he saw. The ball was headed for dead center field, so it looked a bit strange when Canó confidently swung his bat down to the ground as he does when he knows he’s blistered one into the seats. Center field in Oakland, after all, is quite a long ways away. But Canó’s blast cleared the wall with ease, and the lead was 4-1. Teixeira came up next and blooped a hit down the line in left. When it bounded past a diving Seth Smith, Teixeira lumbered into second for a double, but then forgot two things: one, he’s the slowest man in America; and two, there were no outs. He kept lumbering for third, but was thrown out easily. Raúl Ibáñez came up next and rifled a double of his own over Crisp; Swisher then flicked an opposite field homer to left. Four batters had come up in the inning, and the results had been homer, double, double, homer. As Swisher joyfully circled the bases, I had an image of Ali mercilessly jabbing Patterson over and over, punctuating each jab with a taunt: “What’s my name?” Jab. “What’s my name?” Jab. “What’s my name?” Tyson Ross was done for the night.

The A’s pieced together another run in the bottom of the fifth. After opening the frame with a single from Josh Donaldson and a double from Daric Barton, Oakland got a deep sacrifice fly off the bat of Kurt Suzuki to cut the lead to 6-2. Nova would escape without further damage, but he still appeared to vomit into his glove as he walked off the mound. A solo home run from the best name in baseball, Kila Ka’aihue, accounted for the final score: Yankees 6, Lollipop Guild 3.

Nova pitched well enough to win, and the bullpen was as effective as usual. Rafael Soriano picked up the save, but he floated a curve ball with two outs and gave up a booming double to Donaldson, meaning Soriano still hasn’t recorded a 1-2-3 inning this season. No pitcher in baseball with as many innings pitched as Soriano has failed to set the side down in order at least once.

It’s been fun picking on the Athletics here, and I’m sure the Yankees will have more fun on Saturday and Sunday afternoons, but here’s a quick splash of cold water: Only two and a half games separate these two teams in the standings. Doh.

* Even though it’s irrelevant to this game, I can’t resist sharing another interesting stat that jumped out at me as I was scanning those team numbers. Josh Hamilton (19) has more home runs than the San Diego Padres (18). That’s a race worth watching.

** Okay, I’ve just reread this post, and I’m not sure I could’ve squeezed in more metaphors and similes if I had tried. I admit it, I’m an English teacher.

[Photo Credit: Ben Margot/AP Photo]

The Yankee winning streak came to an end on this afternoon at the hands of the Red Sox, 10-3. Once again, DiMaggio managed only a single, but the big story was Williams. He smashed three singles and a double, all four hits rifled between the first and second basemen, and raised his average to a league-leading .404. Though both men boasted eleven-game hitting streaks, Williams was clearly the hotter hitter. A quick trivia note: DiMaggio’s single came off veteran and future Hall of Famer Lefty Grove. Grove had also given up one of Babe Ruth’s record sixty homeruns in 1927, making him one of two pitchers to contribute to both historic accomplishments. Finally, young Johnny Sturm also managed to extend his streak, bring his total to nine.

Suddenly working on a streak of their own, the Yankees won their fourth straight game (not including the suspended game from the day before) and three other notable streaks continued as well. Trailing 6-5 in the seventh, DiMaggio capped a four-run rally with a two-run single, bring the score to its final count, 7-6. It was his only hit of the game. Williams, for his part, singled twice, raising his streak average to a blistering .447. Neither of these accomplishments had yet been noted by the press, but it was reported that Yankee rookie first baseman Johnny Sturm was nursing an eight-game string. Manager Joe McCarthy had inserted him in the lineup just a day before the beginning of his streak, and reporters following the team were tracking his progress, waiting for the bubble to burst. They still weren’t on to the true story; eventually they’d figure things out.

The Yankees and Red Sox entered Friday afternoon’s game at the Stadium in third and fourth place respectively, trailing the Cleveland Indians and Chicago White Sox by a handful of games. Like the Yankees, the Red Sox had been struggling; their record sat at en even 15-15. While DiMaggio had been putting hits together recently, Boston’s great slugger, Ted Williams, was doing the same. Both players entered the game riding identical eight game hitting streaks, and both kept their streaks alive.

In keeping with the similar states of the two teams and their stars, the game ended in a 9-9 tie, called on account of darkness. The game wouldn’t count in the standings (it would eventually me made up as part of a July 1st doubleheader), but the stats were good. RBI singles for DiMaggio and Williams were enough to keep them streaking, but not enough to earn a win for either team.

[Photo Credit: Associated Press]

The Yankees earned their third straight win on this day with a 6-5 victory over the Tigers. DiMaggio managed only a seventh-inning single, but it was enough to keep his streak alive. It’s likely that DiMaggio was unaware of his young streak at this early date, and as yet there had been no mention of it in any of the local papers, but both he and the Yankees were beginning to turn their seasons around.

For the first time in almost two weeks the Yankees were able to put together consecutive wins. DiMaggio wasted no time in extending his streak, as he singled and drove in a run in the first inning to help the Yanks beat the visiting Detroit Tigers, 5-4. Bill Dickey saw his streak end at twenty-one, but in Boston Ted Williams pounded out four hits to equal DiMaggio’s streak at seven games. Williams would match DiMaggio game for game for quite some time. You might remember that 1941 would turn out to be quite a year for Teddy Ballgame as well.

Luís Tiant was one of my favorite players when I was eight or nine years old. And why wouldn’t he have been? His cork-screwing windup was absolutely beautiful, perfect for imitating in the backyard. By this point in my life baseball was really the only thing in the world that mattered, which explained my four favorite pastimes, listed in no particular order: playing baseball, watching baseball, reading about baseball, and collecting baseball cards.

One afternoon, apparently a rainy afternoon with no baseball available on TV or the bookshelf, I found myself wondering which of my heroes might share my birthday. Today I can find this answer in the click of a mouse, but in 1978 my only choice was to turn to my baseball cards and flip through them one by one, checking the birth dates listed on the back. I don’t remember if it took me five minutes or five hours, but I found my answer: Luís Tiant. I’ll never forget that thrill. Somehow, he and I were connected.

When the Yankees took on the Reds on Sunday afternoon, it was the first time I had really watched Johnny Cueto pitch. Pitchers today are all the same. The perfect wind up has already been discovered (I read somewhere that Roger Clemens’s motion is the ideal), so young American pitchers all grow up into that model. Gone are the days when a flamboyant hurler might try to kick a hole in the sky like Satchell Paige, stare at the heavens like Fernando Valenzuela, or swing his arms above his head like Bob Feller. But there was Cueto, flashing the #47 on his back as he completely turned his back on the hitter, then uncoiling back to unleash a blazing fastball punctuated by a stylish leg whip that pulled him off the mound towards first base. It was enough to make any pitching coach cringe, but it was beautiful to watch. Somewhere in Cuba, El Tiante was chewing on a cigar and smiling.

For most of the game, all the Yankee hitters seemed to be doing was chewing on cigars. Cueto brought a 1.89 ERA in the game, and he backed that up nicely over the first five innings, allowing just four hits while striking out five and picking up two double plays. Robinson Canó was the one Yankee who looked truly comfortable against Cueto all afternoon, and he started the sixth inning with a booming double to the wall in left center. Two batters later Raúl Ibañez turned on a pitch and hit a moonshot down the line in right field for his ninth home run of the season and a 2-0 Yankee lead.

Cueto had looked so good up until this point that it didn’t feel like the Yankees would get anything more off of him. The good news, though, was that CC Sabathia was on the hill for the Bombers, and he had been even better than Cueto. The Big Fella didn’t allow his first hit until there was one out in the fifth inning, and didn’t see a hint of trouble until the sixth. In that frame Drew Stubbs reached on a bunt single and Joey Votto walked to put runners on first and second with no one out. But CC stiffened, getting Brandon Phillips to bounce into a double play and battling Jay Bruce for seven pitches before striking him out to end the inning.

So when the Yankees got those two runs in the bottom of the sixth, it certainly looked like it would be enough. Sabathia would cruise the seventh, maybe even the eighth, and the bullpen would close it down. But it didn’t work that way.

Ryan Ludwick sampled Sabathia’s first offering of the seventh and found it to his liking. He popped it over the wall in left and the lead was sliced in half. One out later someone named Ryan Hanigan watched two straight strikes before jumping on the third and popping his own home run to left, tying the score at two.

Zack Cozart followed that with a dribbling infield single that Sabathia couldn’t quite get to in time, but when CC recovered to strike out the next batter, things looked less dangerous — but only for a minute. Sabathia threw eighteen pitches to the next three Reds to come to the plate (Stubbs, Votto, and Phillips) and walked them all, giving Cincinnati a 3-2 lead. He struck out Bruce to end the inning, but the damage was certainly done. Sabathia let out a yell as he left the mound and it seemed to be directed at the home plate umpire, but I don’t think the strike zone was the problem; it was CC.

The Yankees had only one shot to get back in the game, and it came in the eighth. Curtis Granderson singled to lead off the inning, and Alex Rodríguez came up with one out. The play-by-play says “A Rodríguez flied out to left,” but that doesn’t tell the story. A-Rod jumped on the first pitch he saw from Cueto and appeared to crush it to left center. He immediately went into his “how you like me now” routine, flipping away his bat and looking into the Yankee dugout, confident he had put the ball into the seats and his team into the lead.

But the ball didn’t even get to the warning track before settling harmlessly into Chris Helsey’s glove. A-Rod posted an OPS of 1.067 when he won the American League MVP in 2007. Since then his OPS has looked like this: .965, .934, .847, .823, .767. (If you feel like your glass is a bit too half-full, take out a piece of graph paper and plot that progression out to 2017.) Through forty games this year Rodríguez has four doubles, five home runs, and 15 RBIs. This particular fly ball probably would’ve been a home run had it not been knocked down by the wind, but it was hard not to wonder. Is this what we have to look forward to for the next five years from our cleanup hitter? Warning track power?

Cueto cruised through the eighth before giving way to the triple-digit heat of Aroldis Chapman in the ninth. The Reds had plated two more runs in their half of the ninth, so nothing the Yankees did in the bottom half scared them at all. Reds 5, Yankees 2.

The Yanks have dropped five of six and now sit at 21-20, much closer to last place than first in the upside down American League East. There will be lots of angst in the papers and on the airwaves, so there’s no need for me to add to that here.

Things will get better. Mark Teixeira will be back on Monday. Brett Gardner will be back soon after that. A-Rod has to get at least a little better. The wins will come soon enough, and everything will look an awful lot better. I promise.

[Photo Credits: Al Bello/Getty Images]

Continuing the pattern, the Yankees followed a loss with a win as they topped the Browns in a slugfest, 10-9. DiMaggio lost a sure hit in the fifth as St. Louis third baseman Harland Clift made a spinning stab of his liner for a fielder’s choice at second, but the streak continued with a clean single to center field in the eighth. Bill Dickey extended his own streak to twenty-one and raised his average to .391 with a three hit game.

The Yankees continued their pattern of alternating wins and losses as they lost to the Browns, 5-1, before a crowd of only 5,388. For the first time in the young streak DiMaggio was forced to wait until his final turn at bat to keep his string intact as he doubled to left with two outs in the seventh inning. He finished the game 1 for 3, but catcher Bill Dickey homered for the Yankees’s only run and extended his own hitting streak to an impressive twenty games.

A crowd in excess of thirty thousand filled Yankee Stadium on this Sunday afternoon and watched as the Yankees pummelled the worst team in the American League, beating the St. Louis Browns, 12-2. Lefty Gomez, one of DiMaggio’s closer friends on the team, started and got the win. Joltin’ Joe went three for three on the afternoon, scoring three times and driving in a run. New York papers reported the next day that two of the hits could’ve been called errors, and the third was a single awarded on the basis of catcher’s interference, the result of a rule which has since been changed. At any rate, the three hits brought DiMaggio’s four-game totals to 7 for 14, an even .500; the slump was certainly over.

The day after appearing to snap out of their funk, the Yankees slipped again, losing to the White Sox, 3-2. The Yanks were now a game below .500 at 15-16, and they stood a disappointing 7 1/2 games behind the streaking Cleveland Indians (23-9) in the American League standings. DiMaggio was limited to a single in the second inning, but he had now hit in three consecutive games.

[Painting by Erin Wong]

There were fewer than 1,500 fans in the Stadium as the Yankees snapped their five-game losing streak, beating the White Sox, 6-5. Those who were there saw DiMaggio hit a momentous homerun in the third inning, a colossal blast which cleared the bullpen in leftfield before landing far up into the bleachers. It was said at the time that the only other right hander to hit a ball that far in Yankee Stadium was Detroit’s Hank Greenberg. The Yankees came to bat in the bottom of the ninth down by a run when DiMaggio smashed a triple to dead center, keying a two-run rally that would earn his team a much-needed win. Two down, fifty-four to go.

Seventy-one years ago Tuesday, Joe DiMaggio began his historic fifty-six game hitting streak, a feat which likely will never be matched. To commemorate this achievement, we’ve decided to track Joe D day-by-day and game-by-game over the next two months, which promises to be fun. Here’s the first installment…

As the Yankees arrived in the middle of May, both the team and its twenty-six year old center fielder were in the midst of terrible slumps. DiMaggio came into the afternoon’s game against the White Sox hitting a respectable .306, but he had seen his average drop more than 200 points in the previous three weeks following a torrid start to the season. The Yankees started the day 5 1/2 games behind the first place Cleveland Indians, and they lost that day to Chicago, 13-1. DiMaggio’s 1 for 4 effort at the plate actually lowered his batting average to .304, and so it appeared that both slumps were continuing. While it’s likely that few would’ve expected the team’s struggles to continue, it’s certain that no one had any idea where DiMaggio’s first inning single would eventually lead.

If the only baseball you’ve watched over the past fifteen years has involved the Yankees, it’s possible you’ve come to believe what some will tell you — the closer is the most overrated position in baseball. Those last three outs are really no different than the first three outs. Far too much glory and farther too much money are heaped upon those few soles lucky enough to have been weeded out of the starting pitching pool and thrust into the last spot in the bullpen. Any pitcher, after all, could get those last three outs. If the only baseball you’ve watched over the past fifteen years has involved the Yankees and Mariano Rivera, it’s possible you think those last three outs are easy.

They aren’t. At least not always.

On Wednesday night the Yankees scored a run in the top of the first inning when Derek Jeter notched his 50th hit of the season and scored all the way from first a few minutes later on Robinson Canó’s double to left field. That 1-0 lead stuck for a long time, thanks mainly to an impressive start by Yankee rookie David Phelps.

Phelps got off to a rough start, giving up a leadoff double to Ben Zobrist and backing that up with a walk to Carlos Peña. He’d eventually issue another walk to Luke Scott to load the bases with two outs. He recovered to get Will Rhymes to ground out to second to end the inning, and then settled into a groove, setting down nine of the next ten batters to cruise into the fifth.

Baseball is a funny thing. If everything we read back in 2007 had come true, Joba Chamberlain and Phil Hughes, the one-time jewels of the Yankee farm system, would have about 150 wins between the two of them by now. Sure, Phelps was the team’s Minor League Pitcher of the Year in 2010, but he hasn’t generated nearly the hype of countless other Yankee prospects. Still, it looks like he might stick around, even if his spot in the rotation is given to Andy Pettitte. His control is good, and his money pitch — a Maddux-like fastball that starts at a left-hander’s hip before darting back over the inside corner — seems perfectly designed to neutralize the scariest hitters he’ll face in Yankee Stadium.

With two outs in the fifth and still clinging to that 1-0 lead, Phelps looked to be in position to grab his first major league win. But with his pitch count climbing into the eighties, a walk to Peña, another to B.J. Upton, and Joe Girardi’s itchy trigger finger all conspired against him, and Phelps found himself walking off the mound an out too early.

Boone Logan quelled the rally by striking out Matt Joyce, then set down two more in the sixth before passing the baton to Cory Wade, who saw the game through the seventh. Things got a bit interesting in the eighth, thanks to a leadoff walk issued by Rafael Soriano and a throwing error by Canó, by Soriano wriggled free and passed the game to David Robertson in the ninth inning.

Robertson’s statistics coming into the inning were obscene. He hadn’t allowed a run since the end of last August, and he had struck out 23 hitters in just 13 innings in 2012. Sure, he had struggled a bit the night before, but this was the Hammer of Thor. Now that he had worked his way through his jitters, he’d surely get back to doing what the Hammer does — pounding the strike zone and blowing away any and all overmatched hitters who dared oppose him. These last three outs, after all, are no different than the three in the eighth.

All of this zipped through my head as Robertson came to a set and readied for his first pitch to Sean Rodríguez. Fifty-five seconds later the Rays had runners on second and third with no one out. Rodríguez singled to left on the first pitch of the inning, and Brandon Allen echoed that with a single of his own to right on Robertson’s second pitch. (Nick Swisher’s ill-advised attempt to nail Rodríguez at third was nowhere near the cutoff man, and Allen was able to take second.) Robertson was probably as stunned as anyone else, and he promptly walked Zobrist on four straight pitches to load the bases and bring the dangerous Carlos Peña to the plate.

Robertson’s teammates call him Houdini for his uncanny ability to squirm free of jams like this one; in his career fifty batters have faced him with the bases loaded and twenty-five of them have struck out. Peña became the twenty-sixth of fifty-one, and suddenly it seemed possible. On a 1-1 count to Upton, Robertson dropped a pitch that may or may not have (but probably didn’t) dance across the outside corner. It was the type of pitch that many umpires would honor, but Jim Reynolds had been squeezing pitchers on both sides all night, and he saw this as a ball. If Robertson had gotten that pitch, you can bet he would have pumped a 1-2 fastball up in Upton’s eyes, and you can bet that Upton would’ve swung right through it for strike three. But at 2-1, justifiably fearful of extending to 3-1 with the bases loaded, Robertson was forced deeper into the meat of the strike zone with his fourth pitch. Upton didn’t get all of it, but he got enough to float a fly ball to medium right. Swisher made one of the best throws I’ve ever seen him make, but Rodríguez slid in just ahead of Russell Martin’s tag. The game was tied, and the save was blown.

A few minutes later Matt Joyce hit a three-run home run to right (spraining his ankle on the swing and falling down at home plate), and the game was over. Rays 4, Yankees 1.

Should we worry about Mr. Robertson? Hardly.

[Photo Credit: Kathy Willens/AP Photo]