I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that you’ve seen all this before. It wasn’t too long ago that the Yankees were facing the Detroit Tigers in the Divisional Series, and you’re noticing some similarities. You remember the Derek Jeter Love Fest from Game 1 of that series, and you can’t help but compare it Robinson Canó’s big performance in Game 1 of this series. You remember that Alex Rodríguez struggled terribly in that series and was famously — and ridiculously — dropped to eighth in the batting order for Game 4, and you’ve noticed that he’s 0 for 8 through the first two games of this series amidst calls for a similar lineup demotion.

You’ve seen this movie before, and you didn’t like how it ended the first time, but I’m here to tell you to relax. This was one game. A magnified game with magnified importance, but still just one game.

Freddy García was on the mound for the Bombers, and the most disappointing aspect of this game for me was that García pitched well enough to win, if that makes any sense. Certainly I’d have been depressed and despondent if he had been lit up early, but I’m not sure I’d have been surprised.

He gave up a two-run home run in the first inning on a pretty good pitch that Miguel Cabrera reached for and poked into the right field stands to give the Tigers an early 2-0 lead. After that, however, García put it on cruise control. He retired the side in order in the second inning, gave up a two-out single in the third, and set down six straight over the fourth and fifth innings.

The problem, of course, was that Detroit’s Max Scherzer was even better. It was only a few years ago that Scherzer was one of the top pitching prospects in baseball, but the Diamondbacks gave up on him and shipped him to Detroit in that three-way deal that netted Curtis Granderson for the Yankees and sent Ian Kennedy to Arizona. (Speaking of IPK — 21-4/2.88/1.09? Seriously?)

Scherzer’s been great for Detroit over the past two years, so while it certainly wasn’t expected that he’d be as good as he was on Sunday, it wasn’t terribly shocking either. He labored a bit in the first inning, walking Canó on four pitches and A-Rod on five before falling into a 3-0 hole to Mark Teixeira, but he recovered by getting Teixeira to pop out to second. It was an opportunity lost, but at the time it certainly seemed like it would be the first of many. It wouldn’t be.

Scherzer went on to retire the next ten hitters in order before yielding a one-out walk to Jorge Posada in the fifth. He then hit Russell Martin to give the Yankees an illusion of a rally, but that rally died quickly when Brett Gardner lined out to third and Jeter grounded into a fielder’s choice. Not only were the Yankees still scoreless, they were hitless as well.

Austin Jackson — another player from the previously mentioned ménage à trois — led off the sixth with a grounder to short. Jeter had to range a bit to his left, but he made the play and rushed his throw a bit in an attempt to get the speedy Jackson at first. His throw bounced in the dirt several feet in front of the bag, and Teixeira wasn’t able to corral it. Magglio Ordóñez laced a hit-and-run single to right, pushing Jackson all the way to third, and suddenly things looked dangerous.

García had already given the Yankees all they realistically could’ve expected — five quality innings — but the Yankee hitters had been absolutely silent. If the Tigers were to score a run here, or even two, Game 2 might be out of reach. From there the mind raced ahead. Justin Verlander was lined up for the Tigers in Game 3, and A.J. Burnett was scheduled for Game 4. If I were a Tiger fan, I wouldn’t have to think too long or too hard about laying some scratch on that exacta.

Joe Girardi, of course, was likely thinking about all of that, but I don’t think he had anywhere to go. I suppose he could’ve gotten David Robertson ready to pitch to Cabrera, who was two batters away, but there would probably have been more questions about a move like that in the sixth inning than are now about the move he chose — which was to keep García in there. Fearless Freddy responded by striking out Delmon Young, and again the mind leapt ahead. What if Cabrera grounds into a double play? What if the Stadium crowd erupts? What if that eruption breaths some life into the listless offense? What if the big bats due in the bottom half (Granderson, Canó, A-Rod, Teixeira) channel that emotion into production?

It took just a few pitches for Cabrera to erase that line of thinking. He lined a single to center, scoring Jackson, and two pitches later Victor Martínez repeated the feat, scoring Don Kelly, who had come in to run for Ordóñez. It was 4-0, but at the time it felt like 40-0. Boone Logan came in for García and almost instantly made things worse by balking the runners to second and third, but he rebounded to strike out both Alex Avila and Jhonny Peralta. The damage had been done.

The Yankees’ first hit finally came in the bottom of the sixth, a Canó blooper to left that Young probably should’ve caught, and their first run came in the bottom of the eighth on a long Granderson home run to right. If there was hope of a Yankee comeback, it was dashed when the Tigers stretched their lead back to four with a manufactured run (HBP, sacrifice bunt, single) in the top of ninth.

And there was hope again. Nick Swisher homered on the first pitch of the bottom of the ninth from Tiger closer José Valverde, and Posada followed with a legitimate triple to the wall in center. (Incidentally, Posada became only the second forty-year-old to triple in the post season.) After Russell Martin worked an eight-pitch walk, the tying run was suddenly at the plate in the form of Andruw Jones, and it didn’t take a lot to imagine a home run.

To Jones’s credit, he didn’t allow himself to get caught up in the moment like the rest of us did. He took what Valverde gave him and lashed a line drive towards right field. For one brief, beautiful moment I was sure it would find the grass, scoring another run and pushing Martin around to third, but it didn’t happen that way. The ball hung in the air long enough for Kelly to grab it, but Posada was able to score to cut the lead to 5-3.

Here’s where things got crazy. The weather had been fine throughout the game, but suddenly the heavens opened up and it was raining as hard as it had been at any point on Friday night. Jeter was at the plate, but both he and Valverde struggled throughout the at bat, both trying to deal with the downpour. Jeter was constantly wiping the brim of his helmet in a futile attempt to keep the rain from dripping into his face, and Valverde kept his throwing hand tucked first under his arm and then comically between his legs in an equally futile attempt to keep his hand dry. As much as we expect Captain Clutch to come through in these situations, it wasn’t a surprise when he struck out.

And then things got crazier. Granderson came to the plate and the MVP chants began pouring down as thick as the rain. He worked the count to 2-0, but then he skied a popup towards the Tigers’ third base dugout. Avila tossed away his mask and quickly headed towards the spot where the ball would land and the game would end. The ball wasn’t in the air for very long, but it was long enough for every Yankee fan to contemplate what had happened that afternoon and sort through their fears about the two games to come in Detroit.

Avila shuffled, shuffled, shuffled… then slipped on the rain-slicked on-deck circle and fell on his ass. A second later the ball fell harmlessly next to him. When Tiger manager Jim Leyland was later asked how he felt as all that transpired, he calmly said, “Well, it wasn’t my finest moment.”

I’m not sure how I feel about Leyland, by the way. He’s a bit too comfortable for my taste, as if nothing really matters to him. I know it’s just a game he’s playing with the media, and that everything he says is not-so-secretly directed at his players, but I miss the old Jim Leyland who seemed to be dancing on the edge of a razor as he managed the Pittsburgh Pirates back in the 1990s, fighting back the stress by chain smoking in the dugout during the late innings. But I suppose if you’ve been managing in the big leagues for twenty years you’ve probably seen enough to help you through anything, even a play like Avila’s pratfall.

As Granderson returned to the plate with his new life, it seemed like something was happening, something divine. Surely that ball wouldn’t have dropped if it weren’t supposed to have dropped. Surely Granderson would extend the rally. Surely he’d give Canó the chance to stand at the plate as the winning run.

He would.

Granderson took another strike, but then two more balls for a walk, and Canó came up to win the game — or at least that’s what I was thinking. Valverde didn’t mess around, pumping four straight fastballs, the last three of which Canó fouled off. I’d seen this before. I was sure that Canó would continue spoiling pitches until he found one that he liked. I imagined his beautiful swing, his momentary pause at the plate, the deafening roar from the stands, and the thrill of a walk-off postseason victory. But it wasn’t to be. Valverde came in with a splitter, Canó bounced it out to second base, and the game was over. Tigers 5, Yankees 3.

In 2006 the Yankees never got a look at either game in Detroit, losing 6-0 in Game 3 and trailing 8-0 in Game 4 before tacking on a few cosmetic runs in that elimination game. It’s conceivable that things could go that way again, but I don’t think so. Verlander has had a long season and has never pitched on short rest, so he’s far from a sure thing. CC Sabathia, meanwhile, is about as close to a sure thing as the Yankees have. In Game 4, spontaneous combustion is just as likely for Tiger starter Rick Porcello as it is for Burnett, so that game could be just as competitive as Game 3.

So step off the ledge. There’s a game to watch tonight.

[Photo Credit: Kathy Kmonicek/Associated Press]

The way I see it, the playoffs are a payoff for eleven months of devotion, and I sat down on Friday night ready for my reward. Alison grabbed her scorebook, we talked about why Joe Girardi had recently swapped Robinson Canó and Mark Teixeira in the lineup, and she got her first look at Justin Verlander.

On the way to school Friday morning I had explained that even though the Tigers probably weren’t as good as the Yankees, they were dangerous with Verlander was on the hill, since he was the best pitcher in baseball. (She countered by reminding me that Mariano Rivera was actually the best pitcher in baseball, and I conceded the point.)

We had recorded the game, so I pushed play once we had the lineups filled in, and we were off. The atmosphere was electric from CC Sabathia’s first pitch. Austin Jackson quickly went down on strikes, as did Magglio Ordóñez, and the Stadium was buzzing. New addition Delmon Young then stepped up and lifted a lazy fly into the right field stands for a home run and a 1-0 lead.

It’s never good to give up a home run in the first inning, especially not in the playoffs, and especially not when Justin Verlander is looming, but Sabathia recovered get a ground ball out from Miguel Cabrera to end the inning.

Derek Jeter led off the bottom half of the inning. He swung at a wicked slider in the dirt for strike three, but was able to reach base safely when the pitch skipped away from rookie catcher Alex Avila. More effort from Avila would’ve resulted in an out, but he didn’t hustle. Jeter always hustles, so he beat the throw by an eyelash. Granderson then worked a walk, bringing up the team’s best hitter. Canó beat a ball to the right of first baseman Cabrera. The ball had pulled Cabrera towards second base and a certain 3-6-1 double play, but he seemed to hesitate as he crossed the baseline, reluctant to risk a throw across Granderson. He stopped abruptly and flipped the ball back towards Verlander at first for the first out of the inning.

Alison glanced at her scorebook and told me that Alex Rodríguez was due up next. “He could hit a home run, Daddy.”

I explained that we didn’t need a home run. All he really had to do was hit the ball, almost anywhere, and Jeter would score. But then he hit the ball directly to third baseman Brandon Inge, probably the only player on the infield who could come home for the out. Inge was handcuffed by the ball, seemed to have a bit of trouble getting a handle on it, and was forced to throw across the diamond for the out as Jeter scored to tie the game.

Verlander would walk Teixeira before finally getting Nick Swisher on a ground ball to end the inning, but he didn’t look sharp. When Sabathia came back out in the top of the second and blitzed through Victor Martínez, Alex Avila,and Ryan Raburn on twelve pitches, things were looking good. If the Yankee hitters could scratch out another run or two against a subpar Verlander, and if Sabathia could continue pounding the strike zone through seven or eight innings, the Yankees would take a 1-0 series lead. Everything looked great. The only thing I was worried about, really, was the rain.

When the game came back for the bottom of the second inning, the tarp was on the field. Ninety minutes later the game was officially postponed.

This game will be picked up tomorrow — weather permitting — at 5:37. Had this been a regular season game, it would simply be washed out as if it had never happened, but since this is the playoffs they’ll start at 1-1 in the bottom of the second inning, but the batons will be passed to the scheduled Game 2 starters, Doug Fister and Ivan Nova.

Even though the Yankees might have lost an opportunity on Friday night, the Tigers may have lost a lot more than that. In the long term, they’ll only be able to pitch Verlander once in this series now. In the short term, they’ll have the wrong lineup against Nova on Saturday. Manager Jim Leyland had stacked his lineup with righties against Sabathia, but he certainly won’t be able to pinch hit for them in the third inning against the right-handed Nova.

The series is now scheduled to run Saturday through Wednesday (if necessary) without any off days, and with more rain due tomorrow, there’s even an outside possibility that there could be a double header somewhere along the way. Given the way this season has played out, that seems about right.

[Photo Credit: Patrick McDermott/Getty Images]

One of the joys of fatherhood is indoctrination. My daughter Alison is eleven years old, and I’ve been filling her head with baseball since her earliest days. At bedtime we’d read stories about Jackie Robinson and Lou Gehrig and Shoeless Joe Jackson, and my heart would fill with pride when she’d identify photos of Josh Gibson or Babe Ruth or tell her mother a story about Cool Papa Bell.

Alison’s interest in baseball has naturally led to a love of the Yankees, and recently she’s begun to gravitate towards certain players. Derek Jeter has always been her favorite, mainly because he’s her father’s favorite, but she’s also become attached to players of her own, like Nick Swisher.

Jorge Posada has been another of her guys, and she’s been bothered by his reduced role this season. (But I’ll never forget the bewildered look on her face last August when I told her that he had played second base.) When Jesus Montero was finally called up on September 1st, I explained to her how excited I was to watch him play since he was the top prospect in the Yankee system.

“What position does he play?”
“He’s a catcher, but he’ll probably just DH this season.”
“But what about Jorge Posada? Where will he play?”
“Well, if Montero plays well, Posada might not play very much anymore.”

Alison’s brow furrowed for just a second before she passed judgment on Montero.

“Then I don’t want him to do well.”

I tried to explain to her that this was the nature of baseball, that as our favorite players age, there will always be younger players waiting to take over for them. I promised her that it happened to all players, even the very best, and that even though it’s a little sad, we might eventually grow to love the new players as much as the ones they were replacing.

“I still don’t want him to do well.” She’s a fan.

Alison happened to be sitting next to me on the couch when Montero came to the plate with the bases loaded in a scoreless game in the bottom of the second. The usually reliable Jon Lester was on the mound, so even though the Red Sox had been wandering the desert for a few weeks, it certainly felt like this was a big at bat. If the Yankees were to squander this scoring opportunity, they might not get another.

“Jesus Montero is up. Let’s see what he can do here.”
“I don’t like him.” She scowled.

Alison isn’t ready to like Montero, but she liked the result of this at bat. After working himself into a 3-1 count, he looped a line drive to left, scoring Robinson Canó and opening up a 1-0 lead. Russell Martin followed that with a single to score two more, and chests began tightening throughout New England. But it would get worse; Derek Jeter was up next. He liked the looks of the first pitch he saw and shot it into the stands in right center field for a three-run home run. Suddenly the lead had doubled to six, and Boston fans couldn’t be blamed for thinking back thirty-three years to another lead that slipped away.

Things got worse still for the Sox in the third, and again it was Montero. He came to the plate with two outs and runners on first and second, and he smoked the first pitch he saw (and the last Lester would throw) to the wall in left center field. Both runners scored, bringing the lead to 8-0. The game wasn’t yet three innings old, and already the Red Sox were resigned to watching the scoreboard and hoping the Rays would lose. (They wouldn’t.)

Montero struck again in the sixth. Leading off against Junichi Tazawa, Montero patiently worked the count in his favor, then effortlessly flicked a 3-1 pitch into the seats in right for the fourth home run of his three-week career. In three at bats he had singled, doubled, and homered, totaling four RBIs. He’s currently hitting .346/.414/.635 with three doubles, four home runs, and twelve RBIs. Sure, it’s a small sample, but it’s enough.

Whether Alison likes it or not, the future has arrived.

For the Red Sox, the future might be arriving faster than they’d like. Saturday’s 9-1 loss coupled with a Tampa Bay win to shrink their lead to two in the loss column, and I’m sure the Yankees would enjoy nothing more than a double header sweep on Sunday.

[Photo Credit: Bill Kostroun/Associated Press]

For eight innings in Seattle it was just a throwaway game on a Tuesday night. Robinson Canó hit a beautiful home run early on, A.J. Burnett was perplexingly effective with eleven strikeouts in six innings, and the Alabama Hamma pitched a perfectly imperfect inning in the eighth, loading the bases while striking out the side.

And then came the Great One.

He jogged in from the bullpen just the same as he had more than a thousand times before, not looking towards the mound but instead at the path that lay before him. One stride at a time, one save at a time. There was nothing different about this appearance except for the number attached. He came to the mound with 599 career saves, and since we like the round numbers more than the crooked ones, people were paying attention.

Every player, coach, and trainer in the Yankee dugout found a perch on the rail as the Great One took his warm-up tosses and prepared to face his first batter, pinch-hitter Wily Mo Peña. Peña struck out on five pitches for the first out, bringing up Ichiro. It’s looking like Ichiro will finish this season short of 200 hits for the first time in his career, but you never would have guessed that after watching this at bat. He took a ball and then a strike, exaggerating his bailout as if he were looking to drive a cutter over the fence in right. Perhaps noticing this (or failing to realize he was being set up) Russell Martin called for the fastball on the outside corner, and Ichiro pounced on it, neatly directing it between third and short as if he were hitting it off a tee.

Someone named Kyle Seager came up next, but his part in this narrative lasted just five pitches before he struck out and exited, bringing up Dustin Ackley. Ackley took ball one, then ball two, but suddenly Martin was jumping out of his crouch, the Great One was kneeling, and Martin was rifling a throw to Jeter, looking to nab Ichiro as he attempted to steal second. Ichiro was out, and Rivera had save number six hundred.

As soon as Jeter made the tag, the cameras cut back to Rivera, who was walking stoically down the mound towards his catcher just as he had 599 times before. In the days and weeks leading up to this, Rivera had spoken often about how neither this milestone nor the record that will come with his next save means anything to him, since he focuses only on winning. But sometimes people don’t understand the impact or importance of what they’ve done until they see how it affects those around them. When his teammates reached him, every single one of them embracing him and congratulating him, Rivera finally allowed himself to enjoy the moment.

Grumpy statisticians have dismissed the save as a misguided attempt to quantify the contributions of an overrated position, a pitcher who doesn’t get the most outs, simply the last handful. But more than any player on the roster, a closer is completely dependent on his teammates. A dominant starting pitcher can rise above poor hitting or shoddy fielding to lead his team to a win, but a closer can’t even get into a game unless the rest of the teammates have performed well enough to put the team in position to win. Equally important, the team cannot be successful in the end unless the closer gets those final, most precious outs.

There’s nothing new in any of that, but it points out that this record doesn’t belong only to Rivera. If you look closely you’ll see the fingerprints of John Wetteland, Bernie Williams, Jim Leyritz, Jorge Posada, Derek Jeter, Paul O’Neill, Jeff Nelson, David Cone, Scott Brosius, David Robertson, Joe Girardi, Andy Pettitte, and countless others. Was Rivera great because he played for the Yankees or were the Yankees great because he was in their bullpen? It’s impossible to rip one half of that question from the other, but one thing is clear.

Mariano Rivera is the best there ever was.

[Photo Credits: Otto Greule, Jr./Getty Images; Elaine Thompson/AP Photo]

When you checked the names on the marque, you probably quickly decided that this would be the west coast game you wouldn’t stay up to watch. With King Felix Hernández on the hill for the Seattle Mariners and Phil Hughes hanging by his fingernails for the Yankees, this game was a Yankee loss written in ink. A funny thing happened, though. The Yankees won.

Don’t beat yourself up about going off to bed early. Judging by the lineup he trotted out, even Joe Girardi seemed to have chalked this one up. Nick Swisher was playing first, Eric Chavez was at third, Chris Dickerson was in right, and rookie Austin Romine was behind the plate.

It wasn’t exactly Murderers’ Row, but it was good enough as the Yanks jumped on Hernández in the top half of the fourth. Perhaps Mark Teixeira said it best when he explained , “He left a few balls up in the zone, in the middle of the plate, and we made him pay.”

Teixeira led off the fourth with a long home run deep into the Seattle night, and his teammates followed along. Including Tex’s homer, the Bombers had a single, two doubles, two home runs, and the King seemed like a commoner.

Hernández settled down, but all that heavy lifting in the fourth inning sucked a lot of the life out of him, and he was forced out of the game after the sixth. It didn’t much matter, though, because Hughes was dealing. He gave up just five hits and a single run, and stated his case to remain in the rotation for at least another turn. I doubt if Girardi even knows what he’s going to do.

There were two other notes of interest. Romine made his first career start at catcher, and he picked up his first major league hit, a sliced line drive to right field. Later on, when the game was salted away at 9-1, Girardi (or at least I assume it was Girardi) teased us by asking top prospect Dellin Betances to throw a bit in the bullpen. It would have been great to get a sneak peek at the 6’8″ Betances, but it didn’t happen on this night. Maybe later this series.

It’s hard to complain, though. A great night all around for the Yanks. Yankees 9, Mariners 3.

[Photo Credit: Otto Greule, Jr./Getty Images]

Even before Saturday night’s game in Anaheim, it seemed like the Yankees hadn’t won a game in a week. Now it feels like a week and a half.

For the second night in a row, the Yankees received a representative outing from their starting pitcher only to be shut down by a dominant Angels’ hurler. On Friday night it was Jered Weaver out-pitching Bartolo Colón (although in fairness to Colón, the only run he allowed was unearned), and Saturday saw Dan Haren topping CC Sabathia.

How good was Haren? He gave up a leadoff double to Derek Jeter to open the game, then a harmless single to Jesus Montero to lead off the second, and that was it for a while. He set down the next eighteen Yankee hitters, and by the time Eric Chávez singled in the eighth to snap the string, the Angels led 5-0 and the game was out of reach.

Sabathia wasn’t nearly as dominant, but he was good. He escaped a bases-loaded jam in the first inning, yielded a run in the second on consecutive two-out doubles by Jeff Mathis and Macier Izturis, and fought through what must’ve been utter disbelief when Jorge Posada replaced Russell Martin behind the plate in the third. (In related news, the world did not come to an end.)

The Big Man’s most eventful inning was the sixth. Rookie Mike Trout doubled to lead off the frame, and Erick Aybar immediately squibbed a bunt that died midway between the plate and the mound. Both pitcher and catcher reacted slowly, and by the time Posada fielded and fired it to first, Aybar was safe and the speedy Trout had raced all the way home to give the Angels a 2-0 lead.

Even as the play was developing, something didn’t seem right. Both Sabathia and Jeter pointed in at the plate before Posada had even fielded the ball, and Girardi rushed from the dugout as soon as Trout touched home. Replays showed that Aybar’s bunt had actually gone foul before ricocheting off his knee back into fair territory. The umpires convened and got it right.

What was interesting, if not surprising, was how the Yankees’ and Angels’ broadcasters had completely different reactions to the play. The YES cameras found Girardi immediately, and they were quick to cut to multiple replays confirming the foul ball. As the home plate umpire listened to Girardi’s argument, Michael Kay breathlessly declared, “If they don’t reverse this, Girardi’s going to get kicked out of the game!” Seconds later, there was an air of righteous relief in the booth as the announcers congratulated the umpires for doing the right thing.

From the other side of the press box, it was a completely different play. The Fox Sports cameras zoomed tight on Trout as he jumped up from the plate, exultant after doubling his team’s lead. They cut quickly to the overjoyed crowd, then found Trout again as he bounced triumphantly into the dugout to receive his congratulations. When the cameras finally cut to Girardi and the umpires, the Angels’ announcers seemed completely surprised and wondered openly about what was going on. Here’s where things got really interesting, though. When the replay showed what happened, they wondered why they would overturn the call if they hadn’t seen it and called it in the first place. When manager Mike Scioscia rushed out to argue, they supported him completely, even though they must’ve known that Scioscia knew the ball had been foul.

After Aybar returned to the plate, Sabathia hit him with his next pitch and eventually loaded the bases with one out before producing two groundouts to escape and strand the bases loaded for the second time in the game. Sabathia’s evening was done. He wasn’t great during those six innings — eight hits, four walks, a hit batter, and 119 pitches — but on most nights it would’ve been good enough for a win.

On this night, though, Haren was unbeatable. (If you must know, it was Hector Noesi who coughed up four runs in the seventh to put the game out of reach, but I don’t really want to talk about that.) Haren gave up two singles in the eighth, but wriggled free when short stop Aybar dropped an Eduardo Núñez line drive and turned it into a 6-4-3 double play. (More nonsense from the Angels’ announcers: Mark Gubicza gushed about Aybar’s “baseball intelligence” for having the presence of mind to throw to second for the force after misplaying the line drive. Aybar will likely miss Sunday afternoon’s game because he’ll be in Stockholm to accept the first ever Nobel Prize of Baseball.)

But back to Haren. He cruised through the ninth to finish his 5-0 shutout, and the Yankees were left to ponder a sobering reality. In seventeen innings against Weaver and Haren, they looked like Little Leaguers. The combined line: 17 IP/7 H/1 R/2 BB/18 K. The Angels are charging, and I think it’s likely that they’ll overtake the Texas Rangers and win the A.L. West. Three weeks from now the Yankees might be looking at the prospect of facing Weaver in Game 1 and Haren in Game 2.

Buckle up.

[Photo Credit: Jae Hong/AP Photo]

Can you imagine the venom that must flow in the streets of Boston at mere mention of the name Francisco Cervelli? He is the player on the opposite team that you hate without reservation. It isn’t the type of dislike for a great player that comes with a sprinkle of respect, it’s one hundred percent hatred. He’s a bench player, after all, but he celebrates his small achievements as if he’s just driven in the game-winning run in game seven. His favorite bit comes after a big strikeout to silence a scoring threat at the end of an inning. He pops out of his crouch, hops towards the dugout, and begins pumping his fist as if shaking salt into his opponent’s open wound.

But he’s our Frankie Brains, and we love him. (Sure, his bat is anemic, but that doesn’t fit with this narrative so we’ll ignore that part.) We love that he’s a grinder. We love that he seems to know that he’s living a major league dream and won’t blink for fear of missing something. Frankie Brains.

Tonight in Boston, Frankie took things to another level, but we’ll get to that. When he stepped in against Ugly John Lackey to lead off the top of the fifth, things were already going well for the Yanks. Everyone knew this was big game, not just for the Yankees as they were chasing the Red Sox in the standings, but also for Tuesday night’s starter, CC Sabathia, who had been repeatedly chased by the Red Sox, giving up six, six, and then seven runs in his last three starts against them.

Early on it looked like Boston might have more of the same planned for CC. The Yankees had taken a 1-0 lead in the top of the second when Eric Chavez had squeaked a soft line drive through the infield, but Boston seemed poised to erase that early lead. Even Sabathia’s outs were difficult, and when the Sox loaded the bases in the second inning, there was a very real sense that the game might have been hanging in the balance. (Less optimistic fans can be forgiven for thinking the entire season was riding on each pitch.) When Jacoby Ellsbury finally grounded out to end the inning, the Red Sox still hadn’t scored, but Sabathia had already spent 51 pitches to record just six outs. The outlook wasn’t brilliant.

Curtis Granderson drew a walk to open the fourth inning, then Robinson Canó stepped up and reminded any skeptics that he’s the best hitting second baseman in baseball. (But Boston fans probably know this. Canó entered the game with the highest career batting average of any Yankee at Fenway Park with a minimum of 200 ABs. His .352 put him two points up on a guy named Lou; his 2 for 3 night on Tuesday would widen that gap.) After fouling off a pitch from Lackey, Canó smoothly stroked a long fly that bounced high off the wall in the left center before nearly bounding over Ellsbury’s head. Granderson scored easily, and the score was 3-0.

Things got sticky for CC in the the bottom half. After retiring Jed Lowrie for the first out, Sabathia gave up a no doubt home run to Carl Crawford. Pitchers make mistakes, and good hitters hit mistakes, so maybe that’s all this was. But then Jarrod Saltalamacchia singled firmly to center, Darnell McDonald singled to right, and suddenly Boston was rallying. Sabathia buckled down and struck out Ellsbury, but Marco Scutaro — of course — rifled a double down the third base line to score Saltalamacchia and the Sox only trailed by a single run. Sabathia rebounded to strike out Adrian González, but at that point this game had all the markings of a classic Yankee-Red Sox tilt that wouldn’t be decided until the final pitch was thrown.

All of which brings us to Cervelli’s at bat in the top of the fifth. Frankie worked the count to 3-1 against Lackey, then launched an absolute bomb over the wall in left. For just a minute now, put yourself in Frankie’s shoes. Before Tuesday night you’ve had a total of 176 at bats and hit only two home runs. Here you are in what some people might say is the biggest series of your team’s season, and you’ve just hit a home run over the Green Monster to double your team’s lead. Might you be a little fired up?

Frankie was fired up. He clapped his hands a single time as he planted his foot on home plate and turned back towards the third base dugout. I understand that there are hundreds of unwritten baseball rules out there, and for the most part I accept them, but I’m not sure why you can’t clap your hands when you hit a home run. When you’re Derek Jeter and you do it after every single base hit, it’s okay. But when you’re Francisco Cervelli and you do it after hitting a big home run, apparently it isn’t.

The next time Cervelli came up he was leading off the seventh inning and the Yankees still led, 4-2. Lackey’s first pitch was a straight fast ball aimed directly at Cervelli’s shoulder, and the benches cleared. Viewers at home were immediately treated to a replay of the fifth inning home run, but this time we also saw a clip that showed Lackey staring down Cervelli as he touched home, clapped, and headed to the dugout. The smoke signals bellowing from his ears sent a clear message: “The next time you come up I’m going to drill you.” And drill him he did.

Once order was restored, Cervelli advanced to second on a past ball, then went to third when Brett Gardner earned a single by beating out a sacrifice bunt. Derek Jeter grounded into a double play, but Cervelli scored (without clapping), exacting a measure of revenge. Nobody messes with Frankie Brains.

Sabathia had made it through six gutty innings, throwing 128 pitches along the way and striking out ten, and Cory Wade had taken care of business in the seventh, bringing us to Rafael Soriano and the eighth. When he walked Ellsbury to open the frame, the Fenway faithful began to smell blood in the water. Marco Scutaro came to the plate and a strange thing happened — I was worried. Now, I ask you, what has the world come to when the thought of Marco Scutaro walking to the plate strikes fear in the heart of anyone except the fans of his own team?

Scutaro worked the count to 2-1, then showed me exactly why I was worried. He roped a line drive that was plainly ticketed for the gap in left center field. Ellsbury would score standing up, Scutaro would coast into second, and suddenly the Red Sox would be in serious business, down only two with a man on second, nobody out, and González, Dustin Pedroia, and David Ortíz due up.

But the ball didn’t fall in. Last week our man Jon DeRosa wrote a great piece on the analysis of defensive statistics, and one thing those numbers will tell you is that Brett Gardner is the best left fielder in baseball. I don’t need statistics to tell me that because I watch him do amazing things game after game. The ball that Scutaro hit was an absolute rope, and Gardner had no business getting to it. Gardner always plays shallow, but Fenway’s Monster lets him play even closer to the infield. To get to Scutaro’s ball he had to get a perfect jump, take the exact right line, and be fast enough to beat the ball to the spot. He did all that, but just barely. He had to leap a bit at the last second to snare the drive, and Ellsbury, who had already gone just beyond second, had to race back to first. The Great One would come on to get the final three outs in relatively uneventful fashion (unless you consider Girardi’s ejection eventful), but the save should probably have gone to Gardner.

So the Yankees now sit tied with the Red Sox in the loss column, but with twenty-nine games left on the schedule, it’s tempting to discount the importance of this game. I can’t do that. Since they managed a win (and since it was credited to Sabathia, his eighteenth) it’s a good win. If they had lost, however, cementing the idea in some minds that neither they nor their ace could beat the Red Sox, this game could’ve been hugely important. Thankfully, we don’t have to worry about that right now.

[Photo Credit: Winslow Townson/AP Photo]

It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. With five games scheduled against the Orioles in Baltimore over the weekend, it seemed like a golden opportunity to get fat at the expense of the worst team in the league. But after dropping the opener on Friday night, having Saturday washed out by Hurricane Irene, and splitting a doubleheader on Sunday, Monday evening’s game became a must-win affair. Losing three of four in a series that a week ago looked like at least four wins would have been unacceptable.

Thinks looked a bit bleak at the outset, with both Derek Jeter and Alex Rodríguez out with nagging injuries, and something of an unknown quantity on the mound, as Freddy García was making his first start since coming back from the disabled list.

Hometown boy Mark Teixeira started things going in the right direction early on with a double to right to score Curtis Granderson for a 1-0 lead, but that would be all anyone would get for quite a while. García was in full Junkball Magician mode. After giving up a harmless two-out double to Adam Jones in the first, García cooly set down the next eleven Baltimore hitters before Mark Reynolds snapped the string with a solo homer in the fifth.

The Yankee hitters weren’t faring much better against the Baltimore starter, someone named Alfredo Simón. After Teixeira’s first-inning double, Simón took care of the next nine Yankees to come to the plate before running into a bit of trouble in the fourth. Robinson Canó flared a single out to left, and then Mr. Happy (you may know him as Nick Swisher) followed with a home run to right for a 3-0 Yankee lead.

It wasn’t a lot of support, but on this night it would be enough. García left after six successful innings with a terribly efficient line: 6.0 IP/2 H/1 ER/1 BB/4 K. (If you’ll excuse my editorializing, that line makes me think that a rotation of Sabathia, Hughes, Nova, Colón, and García might work from now through the end of September. But what do I know?)

The bullpen took over for the final three frames, and they were lights out as usual, save for one shocking exception. Rafael Soriano yielded a walk but struck out two in a scoreless seventh, and The Great One was flawless in the ninth, but David Robertson made things a bit sticky in between. After overpowering Nolan Reimold for the first out and popping up Robert Andino for the second, Robertson gave up a home run to J.J. Hardy. The two-run lead was cut in half, so there was some immediate importance to this, and when Nick Markakis then walked and stole second to put the tying run in scoring position it loomed even larger. But Houdini wriggled free yet again as Robertson was able to strike out Adam Jones to end the threat.

How good has Robertson been this year? This good. It was the first home run he’d allowed all season, and the first run he had given up on the road.

With a 3-2 victory and the split salvaged, they head to Boston. I don’t need to tell you what the standings say, I don’t need to tell you how the Yankees have done against the Red Sox this year, and I certainly don’t need to remind you about how Sabathia has fared against them. I won’t tell you that Tuesday night’s series opener is a must win game for either the team or the man, but a win would certainly be nice.

[Photo Credit: Nick Wass/AP]

Imagine you’re sitting at home watching the game as you put your feet up on the couch to get ready for a relaxing, if stormy, weekend. You have high hopes because you don’t think things could go worse for A.J. Burnett than his last outing, and you know this is an important game — no one wants to lose even a single game to the lowly Orioles. But things go bad quickly. You smirk at the screen as Burnett muddles through the first inning, then implodes in the second. He pitches the entire inning, but it’s a disaster: groundout, homer, double, double, double, double, homer, E-1, 6-4-3 DP. When the inning finally ends the Yankees are down 6-0, and a loss seems inevitable.

You pick up the remote in disgust and are just about to call your wife to watch Project Runway, when you remember something. Doesn’t this seem an awful lot like yesterday? Didn’t you feel disloyal when you gave up on the Yankees when they were down 7-1? Didn’t you miss 21 runs and the beauty of Jorge Posada playing second base all because you lost faith?

You can’t let that happen again. So you put the remote down and get ready to watch the rest of the game. Seven innings later, you realize you made the wrong decision two days in a row. You remember yesterday’s bile as tasting good compared to what you’re feeling now.

After falling into that 6-0 hole on Friday night in Baltimore, the Yankees didn’t show quite the fight that they had on Thursday afternoon against the A’s. There was a home run from Posada in the fifth, cutting the lead to 7-1 (sound familiar?), but Burnett coughed up two more runs in the bottom half, then a two-out error by Robinson Canó in the sixth led to a three-run home run by Matt Wieters, and the Yanks were down by eleven.

Alex Rodríguez snapped the second-longest home run drought of his career when he went deep in the seventh, Swisher continued his hot hitting with a two-run homer later in the inning, and they tacked on another run in the seventh, but that did nothing more than change the final score. Orioles 12, Yankees 5.

It’s never fun when the Yankees lose, but there is obviously a much bigger concern here. Here’s a hint: it starts with A.J. and it ends with Burnett. His overall record right now sits at 9-11 with a 5.31 ERA, but if you want to know how bad he’s really been, read on. But be warned — what follows is not for the faint of heart.

We know what quality starts are, but Burnett’s season thus far has been measured by blow-up starts. Friday was his fifth outing where he allowed more runs than innings pitched. His last quality start was on June 29th against Milwaukee. Here’s his line since then:

56.1 IP/47 ER/70 H/27 BB/52 K/7.51 ERA/1.72 WHIP

On the surface, those are some pretty bad numbers, but they look even worse when you realize that they came against mediocre competition at best. Over those ten starts Burnett has faced Cleveland, Tampa Bay (twice), Oakland, Baltimore (twice), Chicago, Anaheim, Kansas City, and Minnesota. Those eight teams have a combined record of 491-550.

So we can agree that Burnett’s been bad for the past two months, but when we narrow our focus to August, it gets worse still. In his last five starts he looks like this:

22.2 IP/30 ER/44 H/9 BB/17 K/11.91 ERA/2.34 WHIP

Believe it or not, it gets comically worse. His last three starts have come against the three worst teams in the league. Many pitchers would be padding their stats against competition like this, but Burnett has actually gone in the opposite direction:

12.1 IP/19 ER/24 H/6 BB/8 K/13.87 ERA/2.43 WHIP

After Burnett’s last start, I used this space to defend him — or, more accurately, I attacked those in the media who attacked him. Now I’m here to tell you that the time has come for the Yankees to do something. Scranton is calling.

[Photo Credit: Patrick Smith/AP]

Imagine you’re sitting at work tracking the game on your computer as you file this report or the other. You have high hopes because Phil Hughes looked so good during his last outing, and you know this is an important game — no one wants to be swept by the Oakland A’s. But things go bad quickly. You smirk at the screen as Hughes gives up a run in the first and another in the second, then implodes in the third. He only manages two outs in that frame before giving way to Cory Wade. When the inning finally ends the Yankees are down 7-1, and a sweep seems inevitable. You close your browser in disgust and snarl at your co-workers for the rest of the afternoon.

You’re still burning inside, choking on your own bile and grinding your teeth into dust as you leave work. You’re so distracted that you run smack into me as I’m tumbling out of a nearby sports bar, happy as a clam. You curse my ignorance under your breath, but then you stop dead in your tracks, doubting what you think you just heard me say: “I can’t believe they won that game!” You shout after me, begging for an explanation, and this is what I tell you…

Rich Harden was pretty much in control for the first few innings, but then things started to get away from him in the fourth. Russell Martin launched a home run to right, and even though the Yankees were still down by five runs, there was a sense that seven runs wouldn’t be enough for Oakland on this afternoon.

Derek Jeter (whose average would climb to .300 for a minute towards the end of the game) opened the fifth inning with a hard single to center, then Curtis Granderson followed with a walk. After Mark Teixeira struck out, Alex Rodríguez singled to load the bases for Robinson Canó. Was there any one of us who wasn’t thinking about a grand slam? When you’re wondering if your team can back into a game, there’s a tendency to slice large leads by imaginary grand slams, but it doesn’t usually happen that way. I don’t know whether or not that was in Canó’s mind, but he turned on an inside pitch from Harden and popped it into the right field stands. Suddenly it was 7-6 A’s, but it felt more like the Yankees were ahead than behind. A few minutes later Harden was lifted in favor of Craig Breslow, and the Yankees would load the bases again — this would be a recurring theme — but they wouldn’t score again that inning.

In the sixth inning, they left the A’s behind. Curtis Granderson was hit by a pitch, Alex Rodríguez drew a walk, and after those two advanced on a wild pitch, Nick Swisher was walked intentionally to load the bases for Martin — who hit a grand slam.

Things looked comfortable at 10-7, but it would get more comfortable in the seventh, which looked like this: walk, walk, walk, sac fly, walk (pitching change), single, ground out, walk, walk, single, walk, line out. It was just your standard six-run, two-hit inning, and the game was out of reach. Yankees 16, A’s 7.

But wait, there’s more. In the eighth the Yankees would bat around for the fourth inning in a row. By the time Granderson came up with two outs in the inning and the bases loaded — again — I started to feel sorry for the A’s, and certainly for pitcher Bruce Billings. I wasn’t wondering if Granderson would hit another grand slam, I was actually kind of expecting it. Afterall, how could the Grandy Man not hit a grand slam on Grand Slam Day?

So when he launched a fly ball high and deep to right center field, I wasn’t surprised. It was the team’s third grand slam of the day, something that had never been done before, and the Yankees were up 21-7. The A’s would actually bring in their closer, Brian Fuentes, to face Andruw Jones. Jones christened him by blasting his own homer to deep left.

And just in case things weren’t crazy enough, Jorge Posada was inserted to play second base in the top of the ninth. He even fielded a grounder, looked the runner back to third even though there were two outs, and took a professional crow hop before firing a throw to first baseman… Nick Swisher. Swisher somehow corralled the throw as he tumbled to the ground, and the game was over. Crazy enough for you?

So in case you missed it, in case you gave up early and your day was ruined, I’m here to tell you that everything is okay. Yankees 22, A’s 9.

A quick look at some of the damage:

• Jeter: 3 for 6, 3B, .299
• Granderson: 2 for 4, 4 runs, grand slam, 5 RBIs
• Canó: 2 for 4, grand slam, 5 RBIs
• Martin: 5 for 5, 2B, solo HR, grand slam, 6 RBIs
• Nuñez: 3 for 5
• Team: 21 hits, 13 walks, 2 doubles, 1 triple, 5 HRs

Here’s the recap: The Twins beat the Yankees on Saturday night, blitzing through A.J. Burnett and cruising to a comfortable 9-4 win.

Now here’s the interesting part. Burnett was bad. Unspeakably bad. He couldn’t locate either his fastball or his curveball all night long — and by “all night long” I mean an inning and two thirds. Over the course of those five outs he gave up five hits, walked three, and was tagged for seven runs. He had his usual wild pitch to allow the game’s first run in the first, then yielded a sacrifice fly for another run before finally escaping.

He gave up a home run to Danny Valencia to open the second inning, then found more trouble when Luke Hughes doubled with one out, and Ben Revere singled him in an out later. It was 4-0, but it could’ve stopped there were it not for some bad luck. Revere took off for second and Russell Martin threw a dart across the diamond to nail him — except the umpire incorrectly called him safe. After a walk and another wild pitch, Burnett found himself at a crossroads. There were men on first and third and he had worked himself into a full count against one of the three recognizable names in the Minnestoa lineup, Joe Mauer. Burnett’s pitch came in at the knees and started off the plate before darting back towards the corner. It could’ve been called a strike, but it wasn’t. (To Burnett’s credit, he acknowledged afterwards that you shouldn’t expect to get a call on a pitch like that when you’ve had no command of the strike zone all night.)

With the bases now loaded, Joe Girardi made the decision to lift Burnett, and this is where things got interesting. The YES cameras zoomed in on Burnett as he stared hard at something. He could’ve been staring in disbelief at Girardi, or he could’ve been staring at a popcorn vendor in the stands. It was impossible to tell without a wider perspective, but Michael Kay and John Flaherty in the booth told us that he was staring down Girardi, and Kay jumped on the moment, calling all his fellow villagers to light their torches and storm the castle.

“What does Burnett want?” he asked incredulously. I’m just guessing here, but maybe he wanted to pitch better. Maybe he was upset that he had just faced a marginal AAA team and only managed to get five outs.

After he handed the ball to Girardi, Burnett walked towards the dugout but then turned back to the mound and clearly said, “That’s fuckin’ horseshit!” Flaherty then took the kerosene from Kay and said, “Looks like he had some words right there for Joe Girardi.” To which Kay responded, “I don’t know what those words could be that would be legitimate.” (As an English teacher, I cringe at the construction of that sentence, but that’s really what he said.)

Even as I watched it the first time through, I saw the whole exchange in a different light. Girardi looked like he responded to Burnett, but whatever he said was directed towards home plate and seemed to be peppered with the word “pitch,” as if we were telling home plate umpire D.J. Reyburn “That was a good pitch, that was a good pitch” in reference to the 3-2 pitch to Mauer that could’ve ended the inning. More on all this later.

So Burnett walked off the field, into the dugout — and straight into the clubhouse. The YES cameras later caught Girardi hopping off the bench, heading down the tunnel into the clubhouse before returning with Burnett, who dutifully sat on the bench and watched as Ayala allowed all three of his base runners to score.

Michael Kay, John Flaherty, Ken Singleton, and Jack Curry would all interpret these events the same way. Burnett was upset with Girardi and cursed him as he left the mound. He was so angry that he violated baseball protocol and went straight to the clubhouse, hoping never to return. Girardi would have none of this, so he chased him down, scolded him, and dragged him by his ear back into the dugout. Presumably, there would be no dessert for him either.

I don’t think any of this happened. When Jack Curry asked Girardi about what had happened between Burnett and him, Girardi looked legitimately stunned, then became as angry as I’ve seen him in his tenure as manager. “You can write what you want, and you can say what you want. He was pissed because he thought he struck out Joe Mauer.” When asked about the dugout situation, Girardi only got angrier. He explained that he had gone down into the clubhouse to look at the replay of the pitch. Curry kept pressing him, but Girardi finally shut him down.

As for Burnett, he looked just as surprised when asked about the “confrontation,” and his explanation made even more sense. He explained that Martin had said to him that 3-2 pitch had been a strike (Girardi also mentioned this), and that his horseshit statement was simply expressing his agreement with Martin’s assessment of the call. When asked about whether or not those comments might actually have been directed at his manager, “I was not talking to Joe, absolutely not. No matter how mad I get. That guy’s taken my back, every day I’ve been here. No matter how boiling I’m gonna be, I’m not gonna say that towards a manager, not him, not a chance.”

The only two voices that mattered were the only two voices that made any sense.

What doesn’t change, though, is that Burnett isn’t getting people out. There’s been a lot of talk recently about how Burnett’s contract should be separated from any discussion about his effectiveness, but the pressure will only continue to build the closer we get to October. Regardless of how large his paychecks are, can Burnett be trusted to take the ball in Game 2? Only time will tell.

[Photo Credit: Hannah Foslien/Getty Images]

One of my favorite aspects of this year’s edition of the New York Yankees has been the consistent presence of speed throughout the lineup. Sure, there are lots of old knees around, but with players like Curtis Granderson and Brett Gardner, along with Eduardo Nuñez out there recently, the team sure is fun to watch. On Sunday afternoon we saw this when Gardner roped a three-run triple into the right field corner against the Orioles. Nuñez scored easily from first, and Gardner arrived at third standing up, and the Yankees had a lead they wouldn’t relinquish.

On Monday night in Chicago, Gardner picked up right where he had left off. He led off the game by pounding a ball into the dirt and beating everyone to first base for an infield single. A few pitches later Gardner took off on a 2-1 count as Granderson shot a line drive down the right field line. It never occurred to me that Gardner would be able to score on the play, but not only did he score, he scored easily. He slowed up at second to make sure the ball had gotten through the infield, then shifted into high gear. He hit the bag at third at top speed, then glanced out towards the outfield and broke it down. He coasted the last forty-five feet. Two batters later Robinson Canó stroked a single to right and Granderson scored to make it 2-0.

Have you heard of CC Sabathia? He attacked the White Sox with cold-hearted efficiency, dispatching them on eight pitches in the first, six in the second, and eleven in the third. There was a blip in the fourth — a Juan Pierre single followed by an Alexei Ramírez home run — but not much else.

The Yankee hitters weren’t doing much against Jay Peavy — after those two runs in the first they were able to scrape out only one more run on a Robby Canó double play — but Sabathia made it stand up. He finished up in style, striking out two in the eighth, including poor Adam Dunn for the final out.

Keeping with the efficiency theme, the Great One came on for an uneventful ninth, throwing nine pitches for nine strikes. Yankees 3, White Sox 2.

So here’s my question. What if CC just keeps on winning? Taking a look at the calendar, he’s got five more starts in August and another five in September. Based on how he’s been going this year, it probably isn’t a stretch to imagine eight wins for him over the final two months. So what if he finishes the season with something like this: 24-6, 250 Ks, 2.70 ERA, 1.15 WHIP. You don’t think they could give the Cy Young to anyone else? Could they?

[Photo Credit: Charles Cherney/AP]

When I write a recap for this site, I always try to remember that I’m writing for two distinct audiences, those who watched every pitch, and those who did not watch at all. With that in mind, I have to give something of interest to those readers who already know everything I know about the game, but I also know that those who didn’t watch are looking for something more than they’d get in a generic recap over at the World Leader. They want to get a sense of the feel of the game, they want little details that would only be important to someone who lives and dies with the team. They want these one thousand words to make up for the three hours they weren’t able to spend in front of the television.

So how exactly do you do that for a game like this? Lemme give it a shot.

After registering a fairly convincing win over the Baltimore Orioles in the first game of Saturday’s split double header, the Yankees took no prisoners in the night cap as they scoretrucked the O’s, 17-3.

The home half of the first started out innocently enough, as Baltimore’s Zach Britton struck out Derek Jeter for the first out of the game. But here’s how the rest of the inning went: single, walk, single, error, double, single, single, single, single, pitching change, strikeout!, double, single, home run, walk, ground out.

It was 12-0, and the game was over — except that there were still eight innings left to play.

Ivan Nova was the beneficiary of all these runs, and unlike Phil Hughes a few days ago, he didn’t spit the bit. He made it through seven innings, allowing just two runs on six hits and a walk while striking out six. I listened to the radio feed for the first few innings, and John Sterling kept reminding us that you can’t really evaluate a pitcher when he has a fifteen-run lead, but if I were Phil Hughes, I’d be a little nervous.

Here are a few interesting notes from the game:

• Robinson Canó finished 5 for 5 with two doubles and 5 RBIs.
• Yes, I said RBIs and not RBI. Let’s all get over it.
• Zach Britton is one of the top prospects in the Baltimore system, but here’s the combined stat line from his last two starts, Saturday and July 8th against the Red Sox: 1.0 IP, 13 ER, 13 H. That’s an ERA of 117.00.
• Not surprisingly, Britton is the first player in major league history with back-to-back starts in which he allowed eight or more runs without completing the first inning in either start.
• All nine Yankee starters had a hit in the first inning (Canó had two).
• This was the first time the Yankees had ever scored twelve runs in the first inning.
• Rafael Soriano made his first appearance since May, striking out two to close out the game in the 9th.
• Contrary to several reports, this game will only count as one win.

Some games bother me more than others. This one bothered me a lot. It all started well, with Bartolo Colón dispelling fears of his demise with the type of outing we had become accustomed to during the first few months of the season. Once again featuring fastballs, fastballs, and more fastballs, Colón demonstrated how a 92-MPH pitch on the corner can be much more effective than a 96-MPH heater down the middle. He struck out at least one batter in each frame and pitched into the seventh inning with his only trouble coming in the fifth when he yielded a booming triple to Sam Fuld (from… Stanford University!) and an RBI single to Reid Brignac. He would finish with an impressive line: 6.1 IP, 5 H, 2 ER, 2 BB, 9 K.

Colón’s opponent on this day was young Jeremy Hellickson. According to everything I’ve heard about Hellickson, he’s one of the best young pitchers in baseball, and he did nothing on Tuesday to make me think otherwise. Like Colón, Hellickson was dominant all night long, and like Colón, he had only one troublesome inning. His was the third, when Mark Teixeira laced a two-out double down the line in right, and Robinson Canó followed with an extra large home run just to the left of center field.

Through the middle innings, as Colón was rocking back and firing darts to one corner of the plate or the other, the game seemed to be unfolding perfectly. In the sixth my youngest daughter looked up from her Polly Pockets, noticed the score (“We’re winning, Daddy!”) and innocently asked me which team I thought would win. Was there any doubt? Colón would finish the seventh, David Robertson would take the eighth, and He Who Need Not Be Named would close the windows and lock the doors in the ninth.

But then things got crazy. If you didn’t watch the game, you might have scanned the play-by-play and figured that Joe Girardi waited too long to pull the trigger and pull Colón, and then foolishly chose Boone Logan to replace him. That’s not the way it happened.

Let me tell you the story of the most ridiculous inning of baseball I’ve ever seen. First, B.J. Upton struck out. That’s not ridiculous, that’s just what B.J. Upton does. Next Robinson Chirinos pulled a grounder deep into the hole at short and beat Derek Jeter’s jump throw by an eyelash. When Sean Rodríguez rifled a single to right, Girardi went to Logan.

The next line on the play-by-play says “J Ruggiano singled to center, R Chirinos to third, S Rodríguez to second.” In your head that probably paints an image of a line drive hit directly to Curtis Granderson with such pace that Chirinos had no choice but to stay at third. Not so. Justin Ruggiano (pinch hitting for Fuld) lofted a lazy fly to straightaway center field, and as Granderson moved a few steps towards the ball it looked like Logan was an out away from squelching the rally. But then Granderson’s arms suddenly flew out from his sides in the universal gesture for “I can’t believe we’re playing baseball in this ridiculous stadium.” A second later the ball fell at his feet and the bases were loaded.

Rays skipper Joe Maddon smelled blood in the water, so he immediately played his ace in the hole, the fearsome Elliot Johnson. Johnson pounded a simple one-hopper back to Logan, a picture-perfect double play ball that would end the inning, preserve the lead, and usher in Robertson and the Great One. But the ball skipped off the top of Logan’s glove for an error, Chirinos scored, and the game was tied at two.

According to the play-by-play, Johnny Damon came up next and hit a sacrifice fly to center. You might picture a blast to the warning track, but that’s not quite what happened. Logan jammed Damon on an 0-1 pitch, breaking his bat. The ball floated out towards no-man’s land behind second base, but Granderson was able to race in to make a sliding catch not more than ten or twenty yards behind the bag. Since he had to leave his feet, though, Rodríguez was able to tag up and score from third and the Rays were up to stay. Final score: Rays 3, Yankees 2.

Oh, one other note for those clamoring for the return of Ivan Nova: we probably won’t see him for a while. He left his start in Scranton on Tuesday night with an ankle issue.

But don’t worry. Everything will be okay. I promise.

[Photo Credit: Mike Carlson/Associated Press]

The Yankees had won their first game coming out of the All-Star break nine years in a row, but that major-league-record streak came to an end in a stunningly bad loss to the Toronto Blue Jays on Thursday night. Both manager and players looked more rusted than rested after the three-day hiatus as Joe Girardi seemed to be employing his bullpen as if he were pulling names out of Billy Martin’s hat, and his players were equally guilty as they committed three errors and a balk, all of which led to a total of SEVEN unearned runs. How did I hate this game? Let me count the ways.

1. The game was essentially over after the first inning, but that inning could have been dramatically different. With one out, Eric Thames hit a diving line drive to left field. Brett Gardner took a run at it, but clearly couldn’t decide whether to go for the catch or back off and play it for a single. His hesitation cost him dearly, as the ball skipped past him and Thames ended up on second base with a double. (Quick aside: isn’t it time for Gardner to get a Gold Glove? I’m just sayin’.) Bartolo Colón was on the mound, and he struggled. He walked José Bautista, but then followed that up with an Adam Lind groundout, and two were out with two on. Aaron Hill then rapped a solid single to center and it was 2-0 Jays, and Travis Snider followed with a ground ball single two batters later for a 3-0 lead, but those were really the only runs that should’ve scored in the inning. (Again, if Gardner had played Thames’s drive correctly, the game would’ve been scoreless.) But the inning continued. J.P. Arencibia hit pounded a grounder to Eduardo Núñez at third, but Núñez let it bounce off his thigh for an error, and the bases were loaded. Next Rajai Davis dribbled a meek little ground ball just to the left of the mound, but Colón had no play and a run scored. In case you missed that, Yunel Escobar came up next and dribbled a meek little ground ball just to the left of the  mound, but Colón had no play and another run scored. That Escobar ball was so eerily similar to the Davis ball that both Colón and Girardi were caught with wry smiles of disbelief. There were no smiles, however, after Thames came up with his second double of the inning, a ringing ground-rule version hit directly over Curtis Granderson’s head in center field. It was 7-0. The game certainly appeared over, and Colón’s night was definitely over.
2. But why did Girardi pull Colón? The only hope for the Yankees was that a long-man might come in and hold the Jays down for the rest of the game so that the Score Truck could chip away at the lead over the next eight innings. That long-man would be Hector Noesi, but since he certainly wasn’t ready yet, Girardi chose Luís Ayala, even though Ayala has typically been used in higher leverage situations much later in the game. (Ayala, of course, added to the mockery of the opening inning by allowing the eighth run to score on a balk.) Unless there were injury concerns (Colón had had to race to first for a putout in addition to fielding those two dribblers), Colón should’ve finished the inning, and Noesi should’ve started the second.
3. It really bothers me when the Yankees tease me into thinking that they’re going to make a comeback. This one started with an Andruw Jones solo home run in the third. 9-1. A few batters later Curtis Granderson rifled a backhand to the baseline that had so much top spin that it actually bounded over the head of Thames in right field for a triple that scored two. 9-3. Granderson would score almost immediately on a routine ground out from Mark Teixeira. 9-4.
4. Meanwhile, young Noesi was cruising along, keeping the Jays complacent. In the top of the sixth, things got interesting. With two runners on, Jones launched his second home run of the game, and suddenly it was 9-7. Now, of course, two things became clear. One, if the first inning hadn’t been so atrocious, the Yankees would have been in the lead; and two, if Girardi hadn’t burned up Ayala, he could have come in for the sixth, Boone Logan the seventh, All-Star David Robertson the eighth, and Mariano Rivera in the ninth. The Yankees would score a few runs, and we’d all have been happy.
5. But none of that happened. Girardi brought Logan in with one out and two on in the sixth. Logan would get one out, but then he’d yield a single which scored two, taking all the wind out of the sails. 11-7.
6. This is when I lifted my flat screen above my head and fired it through the sliding glass door, so I’m not entirely sure that all this actually happened. Remember when Darko Milicic was known as the Human Victory Cigar? Well, Girardi has found his Human White Flag, and his name is Sergio Mitre. HWF would allow two runs in the seventh (one charged to Logan) and then cough up three more in the eighth (one courtesy of a Jeter error partially caused by Girardi’s shrewd decision to pull the infield in down by seven runs because an eight run deficit in the ninth would’ve seemed insurmountable.) Final score: Blue Jays 16, Yankees 7.

So how exactly do you put a bow on a game like this? By now you know that Derek Jeter got his 3,000th hit on Saturday afternoon, and you probably also know that he did it in ridiculously dramatic fashion. My first inclination was to give a short summary, the kind you used to see in the papers in the out-of-town scores column, but as Dr. Jeter reminded us, “We need a victory,” which makes this game important. So…

For the last few weeks A.J. Burnett has been the team’s second-most consistent starting pitcher, and early on he looked fairly dominant with two strikeouts in the top of the first. With David Price on the mound for the Rays, it certainly seemed like hits would be at a premium throughout the afternoon. Jeter, of course, led off the bottom of the inning, and the crowd was amped, but not overly so. He worked the count full, fouled off a couple pitches, and then finally pounded a ground ball through the hole at short for his 2,999th hit. The Stadium exploded, but it was kind of a selfish cheer; they were only partially cheering for Jeter, mainly they were cheering for themselves — “He’s gonna get it today! We’re gonna see it!”

In the bottom of the second the Rays reminded us that there was actually a game going on. Burnett set down the first two batters of the frame, but then Matt Joyce launched a long home run into right, giving the Rays the first run of the game. Partially lost in the Captain’s Quest has been the resurgence of the Red Sox and the perseverance of the Rays. A loss here would put the Yankees as close to third place as first.

But Burnett got back on the beam in the third, striking out two more (he would total nine strikeouts in 5.2 innings). It certainly didn’t look like Rays would get much more off of him.

Brett Gardner grounded out to open the third, and then Jeter came up for the at bat that everyone was waiting for. The Stadium noise completely drowned out Bob Sheppard’s recorded announcement, and everyone in the house was standing, living and dying on each pitch. I spoke with a friend who was at the game and he described it as a tennis match atmosphere, with the crowd buzzing after each pitch, then quickly silencing in tense anticipation of the next. It came across on television as well, especially when Jeter swung and fouled off pitches deep into a 3-2 count. As each foul flared off into the seats above the Yankee dugout, the crowd exhaled as one, groaning with disappointment.

Price delivered the eighth pitch of the at bat, a slightly flat curve ball that arced directly into Jeter’s wheelhouse. You’ve seen this swing a thousand times. He pulled his hands in just a bit, turned his hips to meet the pitch, made pure contact on the sweet part of the bat, then sprinted out of the box and fired his bat back towards the on-deck circle.

Meanwhile the ball was soaring towards the gap in left center field, an obvious hit at the very least. As the crowd noise escalated, Michael Kay’s voice rose to a fever pitch, and outfielders Joyce and B.J. Upton slowed their pursuit, everyone realized at the same time that Jeter had done the impossible, the same as he always has. It has been almost thirteen months since he had hit a ball over the fence at Yankee Stadium, and this one actually carried beyond the lower bleachers in left, settling into the meaty mitts of a kid named Christian López who was seated next to his father in the first row of the second tier of bleachers.

As Jeter slowed from his sprint and into a trot as he rounded first base, he allowed a quick smile, perhaps as he noticed Tampa Bay first baseman tipping his cap. By the time he was approaching the plate, his team stood waiting, with old friend Jorge Posada fittingly offering the first congratulations with a bear hug that was probably more about Jeter’s first 2,999 hits than this one. Rivera was next in line, and then the entire team joined in, hugging, high-fiving, helmet-banging. DH Johnny Damon and the Rays had been watching from the top deck of the visitors’ dugout, and now they hopped the railing to join the rest of the 48,103 in a prolonged standing ovation.

It’s hard to explain what this moment meant. I stood in front of my television, clapping and cheering as Jeter rounded the bases, brushing tears from eyes as I watched him embracing his teammates, and my voice was shaky as I explained the significance of the hit to my children. Through all five boroughs of New York City, through Connecticut and New Jersey, and all across the country, hundreds of thousands of fans were certainly having the same conversation and feeling the same emotions. In that moment, we were one.

David Price returned to the mound after the celebration waned, and again we were reminded that there was a game going on. Curtis Granderson drew a walk, and Mark Teixeira followed with a single to push him to second. After Robinson Canó struck out, Russell Martin guided a ground ball through the hole between short and third, scoring Granderson to give the Yankees their first lead of the game at 2-1.

But the lead was short-lived. Perhaps suffering from the long home half of the third (33 pitches plus the Jeter delay), Burnett struggled a bit in the top of the fourth, walking Ben Zobrist on four pitches to lead off the inning and then serving up a home run to Upton to give the lead back to Tampa Bay at 3-2.

This was Jeter’s day, though, so it was no surprise when he led off the fifth inning with his third hit of the day, a ringing double to the wall in left field. Granderson singled him home to tie the game, then advanced to third on a Teixeira single and scored from there on a short sacrifice fly by Robinson Canó to make it 4-3 Yanks.

The game finally settled into a groove for a while, or at least until Mr. Jeter came up again with two outs and Gardner on first in the sixth and, naturally, lined a hard single to right field, his fourth hit of the game. Whether it’s because of renewed energy from his twenty-day stint on the disabled list or the adrenaline from the chase to three thousand, Jeter’s looked different lately, as evidenced by these three consecutive rockets, the home run, the double, and this single. And for any who were still a bit skeptical, Jeter added a stolen base to his stat line as he and Gardner executed a double steal before being stranded at second and third.

If it had all ended there, if the bullpen had smoothly gathered the last nine outs of the game, people still would’ve walked out of the Stadium shaking their heads, wondering how Jeter could’ve fashioned such a fairy tale ending to his quest. But it didn’t end there. The normally lock-down David Robertson entered the game in the eighth and immediately gave up a booming triple to Damon. Just a few pitches later a Zobrist single would bring Damon home with the first run Robertson had allowed in a month, and the game was tied again. But Jeter was due up third in the bottom of the eighth. He couldn’t… could he?

Turns out he could. Eduardo Nuñez (spelling Alex Rodríguez, who may or may not be missing for the next month) led off the eighth with a double, moved to third on a Gardner sacrifice, and stood waiting like Rapunzel in the castle as Jeter came to the plate and the Rays’ infield pulled in tight to cut off the run. Joel Peralta was pitching by now for Tampa Bay, and he looked ready to bury Jeter as he worked towards a 1-2 count. Afterwards, such luminaries as John Flaherty, Randy Levine, Mariano Rivera, Jay-Z, and Alex Belth would all report that they were expecting a triple to complete the cycle, but perhaps that would’ve been too much to ask for. Instead, it was a simple ground ball up the middle, easily out of reach of the drawn-in infielders, and Nuñez walked in with the go-ahead run. Jeter ran to first just like he had done 3,002 times before, rounded the bag, then turned back to the base as his arms spread wide and came together with a single clap. Have you seen that before?

He was five for five, and the crowd was in ecstasy. (By the way, the last time Jeter went 5 for 5? It was five years ago; I wrote about it the other day.) They had come hoping for history and had stumbled into a script that made A Field of Dreams look like a documentary. This, of course, was the way the game would have to end. Rivera came in to pitch the ninth, and save for a Kelly Shoppach drive to the warning track in center, it was as uneventful as ever, and the game was done. Yankees 5, Rays 4, Jeter 3003.

After the game, everyone who stepped in front of a microphone seemed to be reading from the same teleprompter. It was a Hollywood ending that would’ve been rejected by any Hollywood executive with any sense. The aging captain of the New York Yankees, battling injury and deflecting a steady barrage of questions about his decline as analysts and fans alike are wondering in print and conversation about when the team will drop him in the lineup or find a better short stop, rises to the occasion and does what no one thought possible. He hits a home run for his 3,000th hit and ends up driving in the game-winning run with his fifth hit of the day.

It was all completely unbelievable, and yet it still made perfect sense. Such is the life of Derek Sanderson Jeter.

[Photo Credit: Michael Heiman/Getty Images]

The full recap will be up in a bit, but in case you don’t know, Mr. Jeter notched his 3,000th hit today. Spread the word.

I remember the day that Derek Jeter was drafted in June of 1992. Those were dark days for the Yankees, and the shortstop position was a revolving door of mediocrity. Andy Stankiewicz played 116 games at short in 1992, and before that we endured three years of Alvaro Espinoza, and two seasons each from Rafael Santana, Wayne Tolleson, Bobby Meacham, and Roy Smalley. When Jeter was drafted, all I hoped for was a serviceable player who might last a while. A Hall of Famer? I didn’t know what that looked like.

What I don’t remember is when he became my favorite player. There was no moment. I was twenty-six years old when the twenty-one year Jeter assumed the starting job at shortstop, but when I looked at him, I saw myself. Just like Jeter, I had been born of a black father and a white mother, I had grown up a Yankee fan in Michigan, and my childhood ambition had been to play shortstop for the New York Yankees. He was I, if my dreams had come true.

You know how it is with your favorite player. His name is the first you find in the morning box score, you feel a strange type of pride when he’s elected to start an All-Star game, and his at bats serve as mileposts during the course of a three-hour ballgame. And so it was for me with Jeter. Even in seasons when the Yankees clinched a playoff position in early September, I still tracked Jeter’s hits as he pushed towards 200, and I probably started thinking about the possibility of 3,000 hits as long as ten years ago.

And with Jeter, I think I’ve finally figured out why it is that old fans always have old players as their favorites. I’m old enough now to realize that I probably will never have another favorite player. There will be guys that I’ll like more than others on the roster — Robinson Canó, for example, or maybe even Jesús Montero if he develops — but that’s all they’ll ever be.

Thirty years from now my granddaughter will be telling about the most recent exploits of her favorite player, and I’ll listen intently before giving my variation of what we’ve all heard before: “You should’ve seen Derek Jeter play; he was something to see.” I’ll probably start with the jump pass from deep in the hole, pantomime the inside-out swing, and explain how he was better with his back to the plate than any shortstop I’d ever seen. I’ll recount the dive into the stands against Boston, the flip to get Giambi in the playoffs, and the World Series home run that earned the Mr. November nickname.

But the memory that I’ll do my best to give her comes from Game 1 of the American League Divisional Series on October 3, 2006. Jeter had singled in the first, doubled in the third, singled in the fourth, and doubled again in the sixth as the Yankees opened a comfortable lead and seemed poised to cruise through the series against the overmatched Detroit Tigers. When Jeter came up in the eighth with the game already in hand, it was a love fest. With fans standing and MVP chants raining down from the upper deck, Jeter took a 1-1 pitch from Jamie Walker and crushed it to center field for a home run, the perfect cap to a perfect five-for-five night. The M-V-P chants quickly gave way to the ubiquitous “De-rek-Jee-ter!” sing-song, which rolled around the Stadium until Jeter came out for a curtain call, then continued through Bobby Abreu’s at bat.

In the clubhouse that night back-up catcher Sal Fasano explained it in words that have stayed with me ever since: “It gives you goose bumps. It’s amazing to see the love the New York fans have for Jeter. It’s like when you were a kid when your favorite player hit a home run and you jumped up and down. Well, here there are 50,000 people, and to all of them Jeter is their favorite player.”

That’s who he’ll always be to me. I’ll do my best to help my granddaughter understand.

[Photo Credit: Tim Farrell/The Star-Ledger]

Let me apologize right up front, because I know this recap is going to irritate some people. On the sixth of July, still four games shy of the All-Star break, I believe that two things happened during Wednesday night’s game that were more important than the final result.

First, there was Phil Hughes. I’m not sure how it happened, but I completely lost sight of how long it had been since we’ve seen Hughes on a mound. I had a vague feeling that he had been awful, so maybe that’s why I had completely washed most of the details from my mind. His best outing was his last, a 4.1 inning performance on April 14th during which he gave up seven hits and five runs and saw his ERA climb to a sparkling 13.94. Soon after he was jettisoned to the 60-day disabled list, mainly because no one seemed to know what the hell was wrong with him.

His return on Wednesday night wasn’t triumphant, but it was significant. As I watched the first inning, though, I wondered if maybe there was something unfixable going on with Hughes. His velocity seemed alright, as his fastball was consistently around 93, occasionally 94, and he appeared to have gotten over his reluctance to go to his other pitches. (He’d mix in curves, sliders, and change-ups throughout the night.) The problem was he wasn’t fooling anyone.

He walked the first batter, but that could’ve been nerves. Asdrubal Cabrera and Travis Hafner followed with singles (both firmly struck) to produce the first run, and Cabrera scored a bit later after a wild pitch and a throwing error by Russell Martin. Even the outs Hughes earned felt like rockets, and it took him thirty-two pitches to escape the inning. Another short outing seemed likely.

But he recovered. Even though he gave up singles in each of the second, third, and fourth innings, he looked much better. Far from dominant, but far from how he looked in April. The fifth inning might’ve been his most important. His control completely deserted him, as he hit A. Cabrera to open things, walked Carlos Santana on four pitches with one out, and hit Orlando Cabrera to load the bases with two outs. Facing what would be his final batter of the night one way or the other, Hughes managed to get Lonnie Chisenhall to fly out to left.

If we chalk up the shaky first inning to nerves, this was definitely a positive outing for Hughes. I’m not sure what we’ll see his next time out or what we might expect to see from him down the stretch, but I think he’s definitely headed in the right direction.

Also headed in the right direction is Derek Jeter. He pounded a double off the wall in right-center field in the eighth inning for his 2,997th career hit, meaning he only needs to come up with three hits during the next four games to get to the milestone at home. Here’s hoping.

The true star of the game, though, was Justin Masterson. He had come into the game with a pedestrian 6-6 record, but he’s secretly been one of the better pitches in the league this season, and he showed it on Wednesday night, as he was almost unhittable all evening. Joe Girardi and a few of the hitters talked after the game about how devastating his stuff had been, and his line bears this out: 8.0/3/0/0/2/6.

The Yankees finally strung together a few hits in the ninth after Masterson had left the game, but because Girardi had foolishly allowed Sergio Mitre to enter a close name and increase the deficit to five runs, that last ditch rally didn’t really matter. Brett Gardner worked a long at bat with two outs and #2998 on deck, but he ended up watching strike three, and the game was over. Indians 5, Yankees 3.

Not to worry. History and the Tampa Bay Rays await this weekend, and the Stadium will surely be as loud as it’s ever been.

Let’s Go Yankees! Let’s Go Jeter!

[Photo Credit: Tony Dejak/AP]

It’s been bothering me since April. Every single time Russell Martin comes to the plate or pulls off his mask, all I can see is Ray Liotta. It didn’t take me long before I had myself convinced that Martin actually looked more like Ray Liotta than Ray Liotta does, if that’s possible. And then the Brewers came to town this week and I got my first real close-up look at the wunderkind Ryan Braun, and — it’s Encino Man! Braun is a dead ringer for one of the greatest actors of our time, Brendan Fraser. (As it turns out, a quick Google search reveals that I’m not the first person to make either of these connections.)

As if they were playing from a script, both characters had leading roles on Wednesday night in the middle game of this three-game interleague series. Braun struck first, driving in Nyjer Morgan with the first run of the game in the first inning with a single to right. Braun would finish the night three for four with a stolen base, extending his hitting streak to 19 games.

Milwaukee pitcher Shawn Marcum was in control throughout the early innings, setting down the Yankee hitters without much drama or difficulty. In the fourth, though, the Score Truck finally pulled out of the garage. Robinson Canó led off with a triple over Morgan’s head in straightaway center field, and Nick Swisher, who is rapidly putting April and May behind him, laced a clean single to right to score the first Yankee run. Jorge Posada followed with a long single off the wall in right, putting runners on first and third as Ray Liotta strode to the plate. With Michael Kay and John Flaherty talking about how long it had been since his last extra base hit (sixty-nine at bats), Martin caught hold of one and drove it into the left field seats for a three-run homer and a 4-1 lead. As he crossed home plate, the field mics clearly picked up his narration: “As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a home run hitter.”

Speaking of home run hitters, there was an interesting moment in the bottom of the sixth. After having the lead had been cut to 4-2 in the previous inning, Posada came to the plate at launched a laser shot towards the short porch in right. The ball seemed to bounce off the top of the fence and return to the field of play, allowing Corey Hart to field the ball and fire it into Rickie Weeks who applied the tag to a bewildered Posada who stood halfway between first and second, confused as to why he wasn’t being given a home run. Girardi jumped out of the dugout immediately, asking for an official review. The umpires disappeared down the rabbit hole and saw what the instant replays were already showing the television audience: it was indeed a home run, as the ball had bounced off the top of wall, struck a fan’s outstretched hands, and bounded back onto the field of play.

A.J. Burnett was basically in control all night long, and even came out to start the eighth before an Eduardo Nuñez forced Girardi to bring in the increasingly dominant David Robertson. Robertson made things a bit interesting, as usual, but came up with two big strikeouts to end the threat, as usual. How good has Robertson been this year? After the game Girardi was openly campaigning for him to receive an All-Star nod. (Oh, and in case the usual drama surrounding the Subway Series isn’t enough, Francisco Rodríguez seems to want Robertson’s job.)

I don’t think I need to mention what Mr. Rivera did in the ninth inning. You’ve seen it before. Yankees 5, Brewers 2.