"A New York Treasure" --Village Voice

Methinks The Season Doth Commence (A Nuanced Perforomance)

Yanks Recap Game 1 2016The season has begun, and many of us have returned to bond over a new season of baseball (welcome back, everyone!) So, what do we have here? After an early rainout, our heroes finally took the field to host the “all that losing is finally paying off” Houston Astros, following a similar trajectory to the now-champion Royals and looking to usurp their mid-west rivals for the throne this year.  But first off, they have to take a detour through the Deegan, which may or may not be an easy task, depending on your proclivities. If anyone has something to say about what the Yanks will do this year, Masahiro Tanaka would be the first one to the podium.

Or so you’d think.

To be honest, there had to be a lot of tightness going into this game, wondering whether the Astros’ Dallas Keukel; reigning AL Cy Young award winner, would continue his dominance from last season or show some indications of a fluke.  Actually, he was mostly as good as he was last year, but he didn’t have his usual control and he didn’t face Starlin Castro last year, who starts his Renaissance Campaign with a two-run double in the second inning, thus ending a 29-inning scoreless streak against our heroes.  Tanaka, for his part, turned it up a notch from an uneven Spring with a moving two-seamer that held the Astros to one run through four innings on a Aaron Hicks misplay on a Jose Altuve hit that turned into a double and later a run on Carlos Correa’s fielder’s choice. However, that very same Carlos Correa would reach out and slap a misplaced slider in the fifth over the the right field wall for a solo homer that tied the game and suddenly made it tense. Not so much because you weren’t sure the Yanks could score any more off Keuchel (though they didn’t), but you had to wonder if Tanaka could hold it together after that with his bomb-under-the-shoulder, so to speak. He did pitch 5-2/3 innings without giving up more than that, and he did pitch well, which is what we expect of The Ace.

But later the roof collapsed, and not in a spectacular fire-fashion, but more of a threw-a-lit-gas-can-on-the-roof fashion.  The Official Eigth-Inning Man™ Dellin Betances walked Jose Altuve to start off the inning, which seemed innocent enough to some, he managed to induce Carlos Correa into hitting a slow roller up the first base line. Correa, running on the inside grass, passed in front of Betances who picked up the ball… and shot-putted it over Mark Teixeria’s head, allowing Altuve to run around the bases and score. Boy, was Joe Girardi mad… he came out and jawed with home plate umpire Dana DeMuth in what was likely an effort to get himself kicked out of the game, and when that didn’t happen he  decided to play under protest. Naturally at this point, Betances was probably pretty spooked and gave up a two-run single before exiting the game. It was pretty much over, even though Sir Didi smacked a 96-mile hour fastball from a pretty damn good reliever in Ken Giles for the Yanks’ first homer of the season. It just wasn’t enough, Didi, not nearly enough.  Yanks drop the opening game 5-3 and gave their followers a headache in the process.

After the game, Girardi discussed his issue with the call/non-call on Correa’s running out of the base path which led to the go-ahead run. The rules were explained by DeMuth and it had to be accepted; had Betances simply nailed Correa in the back, in essence, he would have been out by runner interference.  But Betances, probably being  the young nice guy that he is, didn’t think to do that and tried to loop it over Correa’s head and misjudged his Olympian strength (how likely that throw would have gotten him in time if he did make it right is also up for speculation) and created a fine news story for the local and national beat. I wouldn’t get on Betances too much (like some of the broadcasters did); if Girardi was outraged at the prospect of nailing someone with a fastball to get the out at first, then it was probably never mentioned to Betances that he had that option.  Other players who were asked about the play were not too sanguine about Joe’s opinion, but did not argue against him in that regard either, instead taking the high road along with Betances in agreeing that the play just had to be made.

See, stand-up guy, now you know so you can blow a hole through his midsection if you have to make the out and likely Girardi doth not protest to much, methinks..

 

 

Opening Day Redux

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Okay, let’s try this again. No rain today but it is damn cold out there. Good luck to the brave souls who will be at the Stadium. Or the guys trying to hit.

Ah, but never mind the elements:

Let’s Go Yank-ees!

Picture by Bags

No Goldbricking Today

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The home opener in the Bronx has been pushed back a day due to the lousy spring weather here in New York.

Welp, at least there are other games to satisfy our Jones.

Picture by Bags

Why Time Begins on Opening Day

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Four games today. Curious. But hell, this is a good problem.

Play ball, already.

Up in the Air

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Lousy news for Andrew Miller and the Yanks.

[Photo Credit: Claire Droppert via This Isn’t Happiness]

The Big Ouch

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Well, you didn’t think it was going to be all smooth sailing, did you?

Picture by Bags

Almost Here

pretty girl

This baseball thing starts for true next week (ok, Sunday night). Even my distracted ass is eager to see what’s what with his altogether m’eh Yankee squad.

Picture by Bags

A Way Out West


Portraits By Jean-Christian Bourcart

Man, another major death. Jim Harrison, a true classic.

If you’ve never read him, consider these two fine novellas—“Legends of the Fall” and “Revenge”—which you can read free for a limited time.

Dig in.

[Photo Credit: Getty Images]

Happiness Is…

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Happy Easter you guys.

Happy spring, happy baseball, happy March Madness.

Hope everyone has a sweet day.

(Photo by Carsten Koall/Getty Images)

No Flipping

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Oh, man.

Read this. I’m starting a Larry Sanders marathon…now.

[Photo Via: Esquire]

Dear Phife

820The Hip Hop universe has awoken to some more tragic news this morning; Malik Taylor, aka Phife Dawg “The Five-Foot Assassin” and “The Funky Diabetic” , a founding member and literal cornerstone of the world renowned Golden Age of Hip Hop era group A Tribe Called Quest, apparently succumbed to the very disease he had made a favored appellation of and in recent years had struggled with. As of this writing, no official announcement has been made yet, but news sources had independently confirmed his passing, first noted on Twitter by legendary DJ Chuck Chillout.

I cannot for the life of me run down the details of his life at this point; having been a huge fan from the beginning and A Tribe Called Quest being on the itinerary of my musical young adulthood, it’s just mind-numbing to have lost someone critical too soon by anyone’s measure. Not to mention, we are losing so many dearly-held artists from so many areas in music these days that I can honestly say that I was shocked to hear about this, but that shock was quickly replaced by that very numbness that such an event would often inspire days later when you’ve had time to process the entirety of a person’s life, impact and death while you compare feelings and moments with friends and fellow fans.  If there is PTSD for music, I must be in the throes of it, and it’s not something I would wish on anyone.

Nevertheless, instead of a eulogy culled from multiple news items, I present a link to an article from Vulture.com that was published last November in which Phife runs down his five favorite songs of A Tribe Called Quest; one from each album they made together.  Perhaps at a later date I will revisit the idea of discussing the band’s impact on Hip Hop and music as well, as they are certainly worthy.  Meanhwile, Rise In Power, Malik Taylor.

More Interviews with Phife Dawg:

NPR

Noisy (Vice.com)

Rolling Stone

Interview Magazine

Q102.1 (Andrew Liu) – YouTube

Lastly, the title is borrowed from this track I came across while thinking of what to write.  Listening to it again, I finally broke away from the numbness I implied earlier and had a moment with my inner self.  We all can relate to that moment because we all have someone or something that touches that button one last time before they go on their journey, leaving something for us to think about; what was, what could have been.  I just don’t know.

 

Warmer

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I’ve had tennis on the brain over at Esky Classic this week—here, here and here—but baseball is a-near, ain’t she? Some kind of day in Cuba, right?

Hey, how is Nathan Eovaldi looking this spring?

Picture by Bo Bartlett via This Isn’t Happiness.

Come Fly With Me

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Rest in Peace to Frank Sinatra Jr. A few years ago, we reprinted Tom Junod’s fantastic profile of Frankie Jr. You should check it out.

Meanwhile, over at Esquire Classic, I interviewed novelist Colum McCann this week and collected a group of stories about the “Greed is Good” 1980s.

Baseball. Right. Baseball, I remember, I remember. Man, I’ve got no idea what’s going on. I glance at the headlines and I’ve seen a few moments of exhibition games on TV; otherwise, nada. And I don’t mind it, actually. I like the idea of going into the season not knowing anything about the Yanks.

But, since you guys are more aware of what’s what, do tell: what’s got you excited—or not excited—about this season?

Picture by Bags.

New York Minute

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Couple few things you maybe didn’t know about the Upper West Side.

[Photo Credit: Scott Heins]

Beat of the Day

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Oh, Mercy.

[Photo Credit: Cig Harvey]

Afternoon Art

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Interior by Fairfield Porter (1951)

Happy Saturday

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Yo Yo Yo. Hope all be swell, you all.

This week over at Esquire Classic, I interviewed a couple of fascinating women: Roxane Orgill, who just wrote a book based on the most famous photograph in Jazz history, and Elizabeth Kaye, who wrote beautiful, in-depth profiles for Esky in the late ’80s through the mid-’90s. Check ’em out.

It’s bee-yoo-tee-ful out there so The Wife is taking me for a walk. Gonna try to catch a little baseball. Heard Goose say some typical Goose shit this week—ah, spring training, where no guh-news is good guh-news.

 

Picture by Bags

Old Man Yells At Baseball

Peanuts What Me Worry

Wow, Goose Gossage got old in a hurry, didn’t he?  Or has he always been this way? Furthermore, does he have a point or is he fantasizing about glory days?

For what it’s worth, he provides a lot of context towards what he told Andrew Marchand.

The Man, Amen

Photo of George MARTIN

R.I.P George Martin.

[Photo by Rob Verhorst/Redferns/Getty Images]

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"This ain't football. We do this every day."
--Earl Weaver