The Rivalry lurched into Yankee Stadium for the first time this year. As you know, for the last ten years she has menaced Yankee fans everywhere, turning every single game versus the Red Sox into an unwatchable slog. Even when a game is tight and fast-paced, the Rivalry will turn it into a grueling 15 inning death march.

Skulking in the shadows behind the backstop, the beast blasted corrosive steam from its nostrils. She stayed out of sight until the fourth, content to let the pitchers dominate the first third of the game. Just when the action seemed to be settling into a liberating, breakneck pace, the Rivalry pounced. Adrian Gonzalez led off the second with an upper deck homer. A powerful display, but too quick for the beast. She sank her teeth into the inning’s nape and shook. Two walks, two strikeouts, two groundouts and a passed ball plated an excruciating run.

The beast stalked the foul line until the bottom of the fifth, when Posada lined a single and Russell Martin lobbed a homer to deep center that arced just past Ellsbury’s leap. It was a lightning quick attack and it came out of nowhere as Buchholz had hickory-smoked the Yanks through the first four innings. The Rivalry has been even handed in her cruelty lately. From then on, the game had that heavy, deliberate, pressure-packed rhythm she preferred.

In the seventh, Joba Chamberlain entered the game for Bartolo Colon, whose biggest sin outside the fourth was allowing a bevy of grounders in Robinson Cano’s general direction. All of them were really tough plays; he made none of them. And when Joba came in, he coaxed two routine grounders. Cano declined to chance a double play on the first for some reason and vacated his position to cover on a steal on the second. Then came a sac fly by Gonzalez and two run bomb by Youkilis.

It’s easy to focus on the crushing homer. But Pedroia’s hit-n-run dribbler is what riled the Rivalry. Why was the second baseman running to cover second base when a 95 MPH fast ball was called for the outside corner?  Boston called for the hit-n-run on the 1-0 pitch, the Yanks had to be ready for it on the 1-1 pitch. If the catcher calls a fastball, a Joba Chamberlain fastball mind you, on the outside corner to a righty, the shortstop should cover second base and the second baseman should stay home expecting late contact. Six people made contact in that inning off Joba’s fastballs, five went to the opposite field, one up the middle.

As you know, Chamberlain hit the outside corner with 95 MPH heat as requested. Pedroia tapped it to where the second baseman usually stands, and the inning was set up for Boston’s big bats. They didn’t disappoint.

The Yankees seemed helpless as Buchholz returned to bar-be-queing them after the fifth. Would the Rivalry allow the game to be decided so early? The beast detests tight games, but she also can’t abide stupid baseball. The Yankees played stupid baseball in the seventh, that much was clear. But with Buchholz dealing, the game was in danger of ending in less than four hours.

The Red Sox fed the beast by removing Buchholz and replacing him with Daniel Bard. He let up a lead off triple and wild pitched him home when the Yankees refused to do it themselves. He walked Arod and hit Cano (with a pitch that Robbie came within millimeters of swinging at) to put the tying run on base. The Yankees brought the go ahead run to the plate and the Rivalry was up on its haunches behind the mound, breathing that steam on Bard’s neck.

Then a daring double steal put the tying run in scoring position! The beast likes moxie. Would she reward them with the dam-breaking hit? With two outs, Bard went 3-0 to Posada. He silver-plated two fastballs for Posada to slam, but Posada was afraid to swing. For the Rivalry, that’s unforgivable. Ask Manny Ramirez. I’m surprised Posada managed to ground out. I was sure she would bite him off at the hips.

The beast, swollen now to her full size, pranced around the infield as the Yankees made pitching changes and loaded the bases in an endless top of the ninth. All that was left was for the Rivalry to declare a victor and eat the loser. Papelbon came in to pour the gravy on the Yankees.

The beast must have got distracted for a moment, because the Yankees were about to go down quickly without even bringing the tying run to the plate. With two outs and two strikes, Derek Jeter singled. One more slow churn of the guts. He took second and then scored on Granderson’s single. The winning run was at the plate. The clock ticked towards eleven. And that was enough for tonight. Teixeira chased a high heater and got beat badly. All he could do was pop it straight up and the Red Sox beat the Yankees 5-4.

The Rivalry curled up in the winner’s dugout and went quickly to sleep. She has to work again tomorrow night. Hopefully, she gets bored of this kind of game and migrates to California. Or just dies altogether. In the meantime, it’s a slog.

Tough guys and hard feelings are back in business tonight in the Bronx.

Cliff has the preview.

Never mind the bollocks:

Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Picture by Hannes Kilian Drei Mädchen]

Berg, Eck, ’nuff said.

Over at my VORG site, I ran down the players with the longest names in Major League history.  Let’s do that same exercise, but only for the Bombers.  A few ground rules first.  We won’t include dashes, periods or hyphens in the letter count.  We won’t include nicknames unless the nickname was the player’s entire first name (ex. Catfish Hunter would be allowable, Bullet Joe Bush would not.)

Let’s start with first names.  The Yanks have had five players with nine letter first names. Everyone’s favorite Brains, Francisco Cervelli, is the most current entry.  The Yanks employed Jonathan Albaladejo from 2007-10 (he’s now pitching in Japan, and yes, we’ll again be seeing him later on in this piece).  Wormkiller Chien-Ming Wang was a 19-game winner in 2006 and 2007.  We next come to Christian Parker, who made one poor start for the 2001 Yankees (but they gladly took Parker and others in order to make Hideki Irabu an Expo).  Finally, there is Glenallen Hill, a mid-2000 acquisition who posted a .735 slugging percentage (16 homers) in 143 PAs.

Turning to last names, you might think Doug Mientkiewicz’s 12 letter surname has the honors, but Dougie is beaten out by Bill Knickerbocker.  Knickerbocker, a marginal middle infielder in the late 1930s, compiled quite the stolen base record in his career, netting a mere 25 steals in 71 attempts.

Finally, for total name length, Albaladejo’s 18 is matched by Claudell Washington.  Washington’s most memorable Yankee moment might have been April 20, 1988, when he launched the franchise’s 10,000th homerun, a pinch-hit job off of the Twins’ Jeff Reardon.

Till next time!

[Photo Credit: Was Watching]

Sometimes the Yankees’ roster decisions leave me befuddled and bewildered. Not to mention confused. When Eric Chavez went down with a broken foot last week, all signs pointed to the promotion of minor league home run machine Jorge Vazquez. Like Chavez, Vazquez can play both third base and first base. In 139 minor league at-bats with Scranton, Vazquez has hit 12 home runs, which translates into a ratio of one home run every 11 at-bats. So what do the Yankees actually do? They call up no-hit Ramiro Pena, who hasn’t managed to make it into a single game over the last eight days.

Why do the Yankees hamstring themselves in these ways? They now have three shortstops on the roster, one who can’t hit (Pena), and one who can’t throw (Eduardo Nunez). And they really have no adequate backup for either Mark Teixeira or Alex Rodriguez, without, of course, having to take one of their outfielders (Nick Swisher) and play him out of position at first base.

Vazquez would have also given the Yankees another DH option. With Jorge Posada flailing away against left-handers, it might have been nice to give Vazquez a few at-bats as a righty DH. If nothing else, the Yankees might have been able to find out if Vazquez’ free swinging ways would translate at the major league level. Instead, the Yankees gave us Ramiro Pena, who is so valuable that Joe Girardi hasn’t seen fit to use him once in the last week. Criminy…

***

Someone in the Yankee organization needs to come to the realization that Francisco Cervelli is no longer a good defensive catcher. In committing an error and two passed balls in Thursday’s embarrassing loss to the Royals, Cervelli provided more evidence that he is simply not a good backup catcher. A capable defensive catcher through the 2009 season, Cervelli has regressed badly (and mysteriously) ever since. He was brutal defensively last year, and he’s never going to be the kind of hitter who can compensate for his erratic throwing and inability to cut down opposing base stealers.

If Cervelli’s defensive yips continue, the Yankees will need to make a change. Who would be a suitable replacement? Among the unemployed veterans, there’s Bengi Molina. Within the system, there’s always that Jesus Montero fellow…

***

Last week, I polled Bronx Banter readers to vote for the worst Yankee defender they’d ever seen. Some interesting names were submitted, including those put forth by Banter writers Alex Belth and Diane Firstman. Let’s take a closer look at some of the nominees:

Mel Hall: Suggested by Diane, old Mel has bigger troubles these days in prison, where he must serve a minimum of 22 years before becoming eligible for parole, but he was a favorite of mine during the dark days of the early 1990s. Hall tried hard–I never once saw him “jake” it in the field–but he just wasn’t well suited to playing the outfield. He wasn’t terrible at tracking fly balls, but with his heavy legs and sluggish way of running, he didn’t cover much ground. But it was his throwing arm that was truly a spectacle. Hall simply couldn’t throw at all; it made him a liability in left field and an absolute millstone in right field. When Hall played in right, opposing baserunners went first to third like New York City drivers storm through green lights.

Marcus Thames: Another suggestion by Diane, Thames was truly awful as an outfield defender during his one year in the Bronx. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Thames’ bat, particularly the aggressive, attacking style of hitting that reminded me of another onetime Yankee, Glenallen Hill. But Thames was just brutal wearing a glove, as bad as one of Kenny Banya’s comedy routines. On every fly ball hit his way, and I mean EVERY fly ball, I held my breath. He took bizarre routes, ran awkwardly, and had hands shellacked in iron. He would have been better off using one of those Jai alai cestas, one of which I believe Luis Polonia used when he played left field at the Stadium.

Chuck Knoblauch (as a left fielder): An Alex Belth special, Knoblauch became a nightmare at two different positions during his Yankee career. We all know about Knoblauch’s struggles in making routine throws from second base, but his outfield play almost made me long for his return to the infield. He looked uncertain on any fly ball not hit directly at him, resulting in him taking staggered routes, particularly on balls hit over his head. His throwing arm was also poor; he had a good arm as a second baseman with the Twins, but he just didn’t have the arm strength to make the long throws from the outfield toward the inner diamond. I felt bad for Knoblauch; by the end of his career, there was simply nowhere for him to play without causing collateral damage.

Rich McKinney: When the Yankees acquired McKinney prior to the 1972 season, they considered him the third baseman of the future. They failed to realize that the man known as “Orbit” had as much business playing third as I do piloting a plane. On April 22, 1972, McKinney put on a fielding exhibition for the ages. Playing at Fenway Park, McKinney made four miscues at third base. In the first inning, he booted Danny Cater’s ground ball, permitting an unearned run to score. Later that inning, McKinney made his second error, allowing two more unearned runs. In the second inning, McKinney mishandled another ground ball by Cater, with an unearned run scoring on the play. And then in the sixth inning, McKinney committed a fourth error, this time on a Rico Petrocelli grounder, with yet another unearned run scoring. The head count? Four errors and five unearned runs.

The Yankees ended the McKinney-at-the-hot-corner experiment after 33 games. By then, his fielding percentage was down to .917. Somehow, that was better than his career fielding mark of .911 at the position.

Hector Lopez: One New York writer dubbed him Hector “What a Pair of Hands” Lopez. And he didn’t mean it as a compliment. Lopez was a poor left fielder, as attested by his dreadful .970 career fielding percentage in the left-hand corner. But it was at third base where Hector truly reached his full potential for defensive ineptitude. Brendan Boyd and Fred Harris wrote about it so lyrically in The Great American Baseball Card Flipping, Trading and Bubble Gum Book:

“Now, it is not necessary for me to declare that Hector Lopez was the worst fielding third baseman in the history of baseball. Everyone knows that. It is more or less a matter of public record. But I do feel called upon somehow to try to indicate, if only for the historical archivists among us, the sheer depths of his innovative barbarousness. Hector Lopez was a butcher. Pure and simple. A butcher. His range was about one step to either side, his hands seemed to be made of concrete and his defensive attitude was so cavalier and arbitrary as to hardly constitute an attitude at all. Hector did not simply field a groundball, he attacked it. Like a farmer trying to kill a snake with a stick.”

Folks, I can’t describe Lopez any better than that. Enough said there.

[Photo Credit: NJ.com]

Bruce Markusen writes “Cooperstown Confidential” for The Hardball Times.

Last night's game won't do much for Amaury Sanit's blank expression, nor yours.

By the end of the 4th inning of last night’s game, the Yankees were down 8-0, having made two costly errors and had not a single solitary base runner. Things improved from there – hey, it wasn’t a no-hitter! – but not dramatically much, so forgive me for not describing all the gruesome details. The box score tells the story, although it doesn’t stress how bad Cervelli looked behind the plate, but you can thank me for that later. Final tally: Royals 5, Yankees 11.

Nova wasn’t fooling a soul last night, but in his defense 4 of the 8 (!) runs he eventually allowed in his three innings were unearned. If the night had a bright spot… well, it didn’t, but if it had a spot that was slightly less moonless-night-dark, it would have to be Amaury Sanit, who… yeah, wait, who? Don’t feel bad, he was summoned to the majors today to spare the ‘pen, and will likely return tomorrow from whence he came. While here, he pitched 4.2 uninspired but serviceable innings, insuring that bigger names will available for the weekend series. Yay, I guess. Also, Cano and A-Rod homered, Cervelli had two RBI, and nobody injured themselves seriously.

No team likes losing a series to the Royals, but these are not your slightly older sibling’s Royals, and in any case, the Yankees pitching staff — given that it is currently 60% replacement player and yet has actually been pitching remarkably well over the last few weeks — was due to fall back to earth. I would love for Colon’s resurgence to be for real (and the techniques that contributed to it are pretty fascinating), but it’s too soon to know really, and so for now the Yankees have two reliable pitchers, one of whom is AJ Burnett. Don’t get me wrong, Burnett has been very good this season, but raise your hand if you feel completely confident when he takes the mound.

(Now you, with your hand raised – did you bring enough to share?)

Tomorrow night, our man : goes for the Yanks, so root for him and his stem cells.

The Yankee Score Truck has been gutted–out of service–since the team returned to the Bronx. Wha’ happened?

Son. It’s time for a tune-up.

We’ll be rootin’:

Let’s Go Yank-ees!

The Times with the story.

ESPN with a follow-up.

More than any other sport, baseball is firmly rooted in numbers. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact reason why, but for well over a century, fans of the game have obsessed over various statistics and worshipped the records they create. This has led to countless debates about who is best and sometimes even who is worst. Rarely, however, has much attention been paid to the average.

Ironically, sabermetrics has helped to rectify some of this neglect. Because so many new stats rely on a baseline to define relative value, the common player has gained some extra notoriety, at least in conceptual terms. In fact, average has become a benchmark of sorts. Several metrics, such as OPS+ and ERA+ (both of which measure performance relative to an average baseline of 100), not only serve to herald the game’s best players, but also trumpet the mediocre by exulting them over the laggards.

Although it doesn’t take a mathematician to know that Babe Ruth was one of the game’s best hitters, it’s still fun to put a number on his superiority.  For example, Babe Ruth’s OPS+ of 206 tell us that the Sultan of Swat was more than twice as good (106% to be exact) as the typical major leaguer of his day. Meanwhile, his ERA+ of 122 reveals that he was also a well above average pitcher (22% above the mean). If the legends aren’t enough to convince you of Ruth’s epic greatness, there are plenty of stats that can back them up.

Babe Ruth is almost universally regarded as baseball’s greatest performer. Just about every stat developed, both new and old, ranks the Bambino ahead of all others, leaving the remaining 17,543 to find their place in line.  It’s easy to lose track of the thousands of players that pale in the shadow of Ruth’s excellence, but there must be someone who epitomizes the game’s underappreciated mediocrity? Who is the champion of the average?

Currently, there are 42 players with at least 1,500 plate appearances and a career OPS+ of 100. From this group, the most obvious poster boy for the average player seems to be Willie McGee, who regressed all the way to the mean over a career spanning 8,188 times to the plate. McGee’s downtrodden appearance, with hunched shoulders and a bowed head, also seems to be a fitting tribute to the common man, but alas, the speedster could not pitch.

Middle of the Pack: “Top-10” Players with an OPS+ of 100

Note: List contains the 10 players with the most plate appearance from among a group with an OPS+ of 100.
Source: baseball-reference.com

From among the list of 42 average hitters, only one player also qualified as pitcher: “Wabash” George Mullin. A Toledo boy who literally made a name for himself pitching semi-pro ball in Indiana, Mullin was an eccentric man prone to superstition. However, the one thing he took very seriously was pitching.

After escaping the Western League (quite literally, in fact, as the owner of Mullin’s minor league club actually tried to have him arrested for jumping over to the majors), the strong-armed right hander racked up almost 3,700 innings in 14 seasons, most of which came with the Tigers. Throughout his career, there were many notable achievements, like his Fourth of July no-hitter against the St. Louis Browns in 1912, his league-leading 29 wins and three World Series complete games in 1909, as well as his one-time record of 12 straight consecutive victories. For the most part, however, Mullin was, you guessed it, rather average. When the right hander retired in 1915, his ERA+ of 102 was a testament to his dual mediocrity.

Because he was so common, Mullin turned out to be so unique. Although it’s probably a stretch to call him the poor man’s Babe Ruth, it’s worth noting that he was a precursor to the two-way threat that the Bambino would become. Mullin just did it on a much smaller scale.  Wabash George may not have been one of the greatest to ever play the game, but being the most average doesn’t seem like such a bad consolation.

The Tigers’ George Mullin (left) was a “poor man’s Babe Ruth” in many ways. Like the Babe, Mullin also had a mascot (middle), a young African American boy named “Li'l Rastus”.

Over the past five-plus years, I have been reading and commenting at Bronx Banter on almost a daily basis. In many ways, it has become my internet home. So, needless to say, when Alex Belth invited me to contribute to this forum, I was both humbled and deeply honored. The next step, however, was deciding upon a topic.

Contrary to the prevailing wisdom in some circles, statistics are more than just numbers on a page. They are the lifeblood of baseball’s epic history: both guardians of the past and milestones to the future. Statistics have the ability to not only spotlight greatness and shame futility in the present, but also resurrect long forgotten names from the past. It might seem silly to ascribe to numbers the evocative powers of poetry and prose, but in baseball, statistics provide the color between the lines that make the picture complete.

It’s my hope that “Color by Numbers” will not only inject more statistics into the discourse at the Banter, but also provide some leeway to tell a few stories along the way. I can’t promise to live up to the incredible standards of excellence established by writers like Alex Belth,  Matt Blankman, Cliff Corcoran, Jon DeRosa, Diane Firstman, Bruce Markusen, Emma Span, Hank Waddles and Will Weiss, and certainly won’t even try to reach the level of the late, great Todd Drew, but I know I can at least be average. Just like good old “Wabash” George.

Photo Credit: Frank Franklin II/AP Photo

I’m forty-one years old, and if you’re close to my age, it doesn’t matter how bad the Kansas City Royals get because the Royals in your head will always be those from the late 70s and early 80s, a lineup that comes to mind as easily as any team in your memory — Dennis Leonard, Paul Splittorff, or Lary Gura on the mound throwing to Darrell Porter; Willie Mays Aikens, Frank White, U.L. Washington and his toothpick, and George Brett in the infield; Hal McRae, Willie Wilson, and Amos Otis patrolling the outfield; and Dan Quisenberry waiting out in the bullpen.

More than just pine tar, the Yankees-Royals rivalry has seen historic moments. Chris Chambliss hit a walk-off home run in Game 5 of the 1976 ALCS, sending the Yanks to their first World Series in twelve years, and in the following year’s Game 5 Graig Nettles and George Brett would slug it out at third base in a game the Yankees would eventually win with three runs in the 9th inning. In fact, the Yankees and Royals squared off in the ALCS four out of five years, and when Kansas City finally beat them in 1980 after losing three straight series in ’76, ’77, and ’78, Brett said, “In 1980, finally winning, for us it was like winning the World Series.”

Recently, though, things have been different. The Yankees have been the best team in baseball over the past fifteen years while the Royals have been circling the drain as the poster children for small market ineptitude. All of that is about to change, at least according the good folks at Baseball Prospectus, who list ten Royals in their top 101 prospects of 2011, including five in the top twenty-one.

Number 12 on that list, Eric Hosmer, had a game to remember on Wednesday night. Still enjoying his first week in the major leagues, Hosmer came to the plate in the fourth inning with his team trailing, his family watching, and A.J. Burnett straight dealing. Hosmer quickly found himself sitting pretty at 3-0, took the obligatory fastball down the middle, swung and missed to bring the count full, then deposited the next pitch into the second deck for Kansas City’s first hit and run of the game. If not for the fact that it sliced the Yankee lead in half, it would’ve been a nice moment. Kim Jones had already interviewed the Hosmer clan up in the stands a few innings earlier, and now the cameras recorded their response to their boy’s blast: mom out of her seat immediately, eyes wide; dad doing his best to hold on to his video camera while pumping his fist in the air; brother shaking his head in absolute disbelief. A nice family moment.

And for a while it seemed like that’s all it would be. Burnett recovered nicely to fashion something of a masterpiece. Sure, he walked five batters and hit another, but there was only that one hit over seven innings along with six strikeouts, and when he left the game he seemed ticketed for a win.

But David Robertson (not Joba Chamberlain) opened the eighth by walking our old friend Melky Cabrera and, two batters later, Billy Butler. He made quick work of Jeff Francoeur, striking him out on three pitches, and when he worked Wilson Betemit into a 1 and 2 hole, it looked like Houdini would wriggle free of yet another jam. But Betemit lined a single to right, plating Melky and snatching a win from Burnett.

Aside from an RBI single from Jorge Posada in the second inning and a Curtis Granderson home run in the third, the Yankee offense was fairly inept, missing opportunities all night long. Posada and Russell Martin led off the sixth with consecutive singles but were stranded. The bases were left loaded in the seventh. In the eighth, minutes after losing the lead in the top half, Brett Gardner led off with a single, and things looked good. Even though Gardner had been caught stealing earlier in the game, I found myself yelling at him to go on the first pitch. Instead, Jeter popped up a bunt attempt for the first out and Granderson followed by rapping into a double play. Inning over.

Mariano Rivera needed fourteen pitches to blitz through three Kansas City hitters in the ninth, the Yankees left two more runners on base in the bottom half, and Buddy Carlyle (not Joba Chamberlain) came in for the top of the tenth. What happened next came as no surprise. Well, except for this part: the fearsome Melky Cabrera opened the inning by drawing his second of three walks in the game. If you’re thinking of scouring the internet to find the last time Melky walked three times in a game, let me save you the trouble — it’s never happened. (In fact, check this out. Back in July, August, and September of 2008, Melky walked a TOTAL of two times in 131 at bats.)

But back to Buddy Carlyle. Hosmer was due next and erased Melky on a fielder’s choice, but Hosmer quickly reached second base on a wild pitch, the first of two Carlyle would throw in the inning. He’d come home a few pitches later on a Francoeur double, giving the Royals their first lead of the night.

With Joakim “The Mexicutioner” Soria coming in, it seemed the Yankees were dead, but they were able to scratch out a run after Martin walked, Gardner bunted him to second, Jeter pushed him to third with a ground out, and Granderson drove him in with a single to right. Sure, the game would’ve been over if they had only been able to execute like that once or twice during the first nine innings, but better late than never, right?

(A quick word about Granderson. It never makes sense to project May 11th numbers over a full season, but let’s do it anyway just so we can appreciate how good he’s been through 34 games. Grandy, who just happens to be leading baseball in home runs, is on pace to hit 57 homers and drive in 119. Not bad.)

This game ended the way it had to, though. Not satisfied with the mess he made of the tenth, Carlyle (not Joba Chamberlain) started the eleventh by walking Chris Getz on four pitches, which was finally enough for Joe Girardi to hook him. There was a bunt, an infield single, a stolen base, an intentional walk (Melky!), and the kid (or The Hos, as he’s called) cashed it in with a sacrifice fly. The Yanks went down like lambs, and it was over. Royals 4, Yankees 3.

And somewhere Freddie Patek is smiling.

Gene Monahan will retire after this season…Rafael Soriano doesn’t appear to be seriously hurt…A.J. Burnett is on the mound tonight…

Score Truck anyone?

Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Picture by Stella Simon]

Nice piece on David Robertson by Bob Klapisch today:

How he destroys hitters is a secret that baseball technology is only beginning to understand, but Robertson was at his blow-away best against Kansas City. After getting Aviles to fly to center, Alcides Escobar and Chris Getz whiffed.

How? Because neither Royals hitter had a chance against Robertson’s 82-mph curveball.

Why? Because both hitters had been battered by the ferocity of Robertson’s fastball, which, although clocked at 93 to 94 mph, has the signature of a 97-mph heater.

That’s made possible by Robertson’s enormous push-off from the mound – a full 7 feet from the rubber, the most behind Tim Lincecum. Last month, Sports Illustrated profiled a Dutch company, Trackman, which extrapolates virtual speed from actual velocity and distance from the plate. Robertson can add as much as 4 mph to his fastball because he’s closer to the hitter than other pitchers. The average major league stride is 5 feet, 10 inches.

…That’s the beauty of his gift: Robertson doesn’t have to repeat any internal monologue to get his legs into gear. Instead, in times of stress, he thinks about the machinery of strikes-throwing, watching as hitters struggle to catch up to his heat, deciding when it’s time to unleash the killer curveball.

[Photo Credit: Post 34 Baseball]

Mariano Rivera didn’t look to have his best stuff last night. But with one out and a runner on first, he snagged a hard ground ball and quickly pivoted his body around to second base. In that instant I thought of the 2001 World Series, 9th inning, Game 7. That was when Rivera didn’t turn a double play. It wasn’t the worst performance of his career but it may have been the most painful as the Diamondbacks scored twice to win the Serious. I couldn’t sleep that night. I replayed the inning over and over. I wondered if a loss like that would break Rivera. It didn’t, of course. The Sandy Alomar home run in the 1997 ALDS didn’t, and neither did Game 4 and 5 of the 2004 ALCS against the Red Sox.

Now, it’s almost ten full years after the loss to the Diamonbacks and only a handful of players who appeared in the Serious are still active. None of them are performing on Rivera’s level. He’s embodiment of excellence, still graceful, a later day Fred Astaire as we like to think of him around these parts, and one of the most beautiful athletes in pro sports.

Rivera was quick enough to field the hard ground ball last night and he made a difficult throw to second base look easy. It was right on target. Cano caught it and threw to first in one smooth motion,  in time for a game-ending double play. Close play. Yanks got the call.

The Yankee players smiled as they gathered to shake hands. Smiled at an old man who still has a few moments left. He was smiling too.

And so were we.

In the top of the seventh inning, David Robertson walked Matt Treanor to load the bases with only one out. The score was 3-1 Yanks, but Robertson did not seem to have good command of his fastball and the game was on the line. That’s when Larry Rothschild sprint-trotted to the mound (check the grass for scorch marks) and saved the game. With the aid of slow-motion replay and the lip-reading techniques listed on Wikipedia, I captured his motivational speech verbatim.

“Young Robertson,” he began “what afflicts thee?”

Roberston could be seen lowering his head. He didn’t have a ready answer.

“Ho, man, return my gaze and steel thyself,” he continued. “From yonder perch I observed this right arm lagging through the delivery and sailing offerings high into the ether, but now that I have ventured forth I see it is not an arm at all, but a thunderbolt! Who among these hapless mortals with their paltry wooden clubs can meet a thunderbolt and send it back with equal force? None, I vouch, except maybe Butler, but he’s not due up until the eighth.”

Robertson lifted his chin at this point and you can see Martin give him a “WTF is he talking about” kind of look if you pause it just at the right moment. But Robertson didn’t notice.

“That is not all,” Rothschild confided as he glanced sideways at the upcoming batter. “Once you have established the thunderbolt and you feel the fear in their hearts, rotate your hand thusly, cock thy wrist and turn this crude ball into a twisting mirage. It will appear to him at first in the middle, but when he strikes, it will disappear completely from his sight. I entrust you with the magics of my people, young Robertson. Now go forth and conquer.”

Then he spit on the ground to consecrate the pitching area. To complete the ritual, we’ll assume Francisco Cervelli sacrificed his kitten in the clubhouse. The YES cameras really dropped the ball on that one.

Sufficiently roused by the visit, Robertson proceeded to strike out Escobar on one of the most beautiful curve balls you’ll ever see. And then for good measure, he struck out the next guy too on another wicked deuce. I didn’t think Getz went around, but he certainly deserved to be out by that point. He was just taking emergency hacks trying to stay alive. But between the thunderbolt and the mirage, he didn’t have a chance.

That was basically that, as Rivera and Chamberlain faced only six more batters and the Royals never threatened again. Yankees 3 – Royals 1. Mariano allowed a hit and went to three balls on the two other hitters he faced. But he whiffed Hosmer and then started a spectacular game-ending double play.

Jeter continues to get some non-infield hits. Alex Rodriguez emerged briefly from his funk to guide the game-winning hit up the middle in the fifth. Swisher made a run-saving catch in the top of that inning and Freddy Garcia continues to get the job done. I’m glad they won this one because every time they lose a good game from Garcia or Colon, I feel like they’re burning found money. And hey, Melky hit a home run. Got that out of the way, now he can go 0 for the rest of the series.

The Royales with Cheese are in town for a three game series and they are an improved team.

Cliff has the series preview.

We kick back and cheer:

Let’s Go Yank-ees!

Over at PB, Jay Jaffe looks at Brett Gardner’s turnaround:

Gardner has reached base in 10 out of his last 11 starts. As hitting coach Kevin Long said last week, “He’s turned it around. He’s had several good games as of late, and he seems like the Brett Gardner we saw last year. Getting on base, causing havoc, playing great defense.” More specifically, Long noted that Gardner had shifted in the batter’s box: “Basically he moved up closer to the plate. In a nutshell they were pitching him away, and he was coming out of his swing and not able to stay tight and compact on the outside pitch. So he’s moved up on the plate, and that’s helped him a great deal.”

Tellingly, Gardner’s strikeout-to-walk ratio in those two small samples has improved, from 14/4 in the first to 10/10 in the second, and so has his rate of pitches per plate appearance, from 4.13 during his cold spell to 4.46 in his hot one. Overall, he ranks eighth in the league in P/PA at 4.30, down from last year’s league-leading 4.61, though that figure had more than a little something to do with his midseason wrist injury. Interestingly enough, the remade Curtis Granderson currently ranks a surprising second in the AL at 4.48 P/PA.

[Picture by Joseph Holmes]

For all the hand-wringing regarding Derek “4-3ter” Jeter, the Yanks are getting even less out of their DH, mainly in the form of Jorge Posada.

Posada’s current .152/.257/.354 line in 113 plate appearances is ugly enough.  Of the 173 players who have amassed at least that many plate appearances this season, Posada ranks dead last in batting average (Kelly Johnson is next in line, at a comparatively gaudy .175), tenth-lowest in OBP (though still higher than the $142 million man Carl Crawford’s .250), and 118th-best in slugging (between Michael Cuddyer and the recently-exiled Milton Bradley).

If we consider only DHs, Posada fares no better. Of the DHs with 75 or more plate appearances, Posada is last (out of 13) in BA, next-to-last in OBP (ahead of only Magglio Ordonez) and fifth-worst in slugging.  And its not like its all about age, as 4 other DHs are 37 years old.

We all know that offense is down again in 2011, and DHs are not immune to this, as they’ve hit a composite .257/.339/.394 so far.  But the question remains, could someone (anyone) provide more offense for a role that is ONLY about offense?

We know the Jeter slippery slope towards (and below) mediocrity still has a while to play out.   The Yanks have no better internal option in the near-term.  But what about Posada?  The Yanks owe him nothing after this season, and swallowing the remainder of his 2011 salary (roughly another $11 million) would certainly sting a bit, even for the Steinbrenners.  But the Yanks do have a viable DH option down in Triple A, and we all know Jesus Montero’s value is heavily tilted towards his bat.

Looking forward towards the July 31 trade deadline, promoting Montero to full-time DH now would allow for roughly 70 games/280 at-bats to showcase what he can do at the major league level.  Assuming the Yanks will throw enough money at Russell Martin to bring him back for 2012 (when he’ll still be only 29), Montero can be safely dealt for whatever needs the Yanks may have at that time (starting pitching most likely, and middle infield help better than Pena and Nunez).

Or . . . the Yanks could hold onto Montero through the end of the year (presuming he’s putting up a 800+ OPS), and then value the free agent market before involving him in a deal.

Rob Neyer wonders the same wonder as I do, and comes down on the status quo side:

. . . nearly all of Montero’s value as a hitter this season is due to his batting average … and batting average is highly subject to luck. Which isn’t to say Montero’s not a high-average hitter; he’s got a .315 career batting average in the minors. But he might not really be a .337 hitter in Class AAA, and he might not be a .300 hitter in the American League. And given the paucity of walks and power, if he’s not hitting .300 he’s not creating many runs. Not yet, anyway.

That said, I do not think the timing is a real issue. Since when do the Yankees care about someone’s “Super 2” status? Plus, the rules regarding such things might well be different after this season, since they’re a part of the Collective Bargaining Agreement that expires soon. What the Yankees probably do care about is Montero’s development. Do they want a 21-year-old catcher serving as their primary DH? Alternatively, do they want their primary catcher learning on the job, while Russell Martin or someone else is DHing?

No, probably not.

Opinions?

Robert Lipsyte thinks that Roger Maris should be in the Hall of Fame. Allen Barra does not agree.

I just don’t see a strong case for Maris, do you?