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.

Good times over at Pitchers and Poets where they are hosting a 1990s First Basemen Week:

I wrote a brief memory of Kevin Maas.

Here’s more…

Mo Vaughn by Kris Liakos.

Carlos Quintana by Josh Wilker.

Tony Clark by Drew Fairservice.

Jeff Bagwell by Ted Walker.

Straight Shooters by Glenn Stout.

Jeff King by Joe Pos.

John Jaha by R.J. Anderson.

Rafael Palmeiro by Rob Iracane.

The Big Cat by Tom Ley.

Mark Grace by Jesse Thorn.

Perfect Rangers by Larry Herold.

Wally Joyner by Reeves Wideman.

Searching for the Typical ’90s First Baseman Season by Kenneth Morgan.

Pedro Guerrero by Will Leitch.

J.T. Snow by Eric Freeman.

Bags and the Big Hurt by Jonah Keri.

Missed it by that much…

Speaking of the Seventies…how about the Cobra?

Here’s Roy Blount, writing in Sports Illustrated about Parker back in the spring of 1979:

“He’s like the 10th man in Softball out there,” says First Baseman Stargell. “On a ground ball he’s backing up first before I’m there to take the throw. We were both after a foul ball one time with our arms outstretched, and we came together face to face like two big pairs of scissors. It was the only time I ever kissed him. We hit and flew apart by yards and yards.” Parker covers second on infield pop-ups, he gets involved in rundowns between second and third, he is everywhere. Pete Rose may be Charlie Hustle, but Parker hustles just as hard and considerably faster.

On the bases, too, he takes all he can get. Says Parker, “The highlight of the game to me is scoring from first on a double in such a way that people look at me in amazement, as if they’re saying, ‘My, how fast that big man can move.’ ”

Big he is—6’5″, 230 pounds. His legs terminate, after a lengthy run, in an upper body that looks like two Doberman pinschers bound tightly together. In addition to his speed afoot, he has general quickness—hence his nickname, Cobra—and a rifle arm. “He’s one of those rare individuals who come along every 15 or 20 years,” says Stargell. “Rare, and unique, and strong.”

Will the Heat finish off the Celtics tonight? I’d like to see it but I think the Celtics will win.

Can the Thunder beat the Grizzles tonight in Oklahoma City to go up, 3-2. Sure, they can, but I’m picking the Grizzles. Hope I’m wrong but I’ll believe the Grizzles (and Celtics) are done when I see it.

[Picture by Patrick Joust]

Sweet SI cover this week…

We love sports because there is no telling what will happen. Yes, we are cynical and jaded but the element of surprise is what keeps us riveted.

Last night I went to bed with the Oklahoma City Thunder trailing by 15 points early in the first half of Game 4 against the Memphis Grizzles. The young Thunder team blew Game 3 on Saturday night and I didn’t know if they’d be able to regroup. Russell Westbrook, their wonderful point guard, seems to have trouble recognizing that he’s the second-best player on the team, next to Kevin Durant. Now losing by double digits against a tough Memphis team, well, it was time to go to bed.

I was delighted when I woke up this morning and learned that the Thunder won the game in triple overtime. Triple OT?!

Here’s John Hollinger at ESPN:

You know it’s a classic when fans of the losing team give a standing ovation at the end of it.

Few people who were in FedEx Forum on Monday will forget it anytime soon. One can safely say Game 4 of the Grizzlies-Thunder series will become a staple of future NBA TV daytime programming, after the two sides slogged through three overtimes, two miraculous game-tying 3-pointers, and three missed buzzer-beaters for the win before Oklahoma City finally won the war of attrition 133-123.

We can also safely call this series “evenly matched.” Through four games and four overtimes, we’re tied at two games apiece with a composite score of 440-438. Each side has stolen a win on the other’s home court, and each has stormed back from a huge deficit to win — with Oklahoma City’s rally from 18 down Monday offsetting Memphis’ comeback from a 16-point deficit two days earlier.

The sun is out this morning, the leaves of the trees now pea green, cool in the morning, and a gentle breeze in the evening. It’s a precious time of year. And the day started with a smile. Triple OT win, and the series is even at two.

[Photo Credit: Melisaki]

Justin Verlander lost a bid for a perfect game when he walked a batter–in a 12-pitch battle–in the eighth. But a double play got him out of the inning and then he retired the side in order in the 9th, good for the second no-hitter of his career.

Mazel Props.

Big sports Saturday. The Kentucky Derby is in a few hours. If you’ve never read Hunter Thompson’s “The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved,” here’s your chance.

Later tonight, Manny Pacquiao fights “Sugar” Shane Mosley, though Gary Andrew Poole wonders when Pacman will fight the Right American (aka Floyd Mayweather, Jr.).

For you hoop heads, the Celtics look to avoid going down 3-0 like the Lakers. Good news for them is that they are at home. I figure they’ll win tonight but don’t think they can stop the Heat in the series.

On the baseball diamond, Andre Ethier looks to tie a Dodger team record by extending his hitting streak to 31 out at Citifield. And down in Texas the Yanks would love to see Bartolo Colon to keep things rolling. Bunch o runs wouldn’t hoit, now would it boys?

Get the clicker ready, good people, grab some eats, and settle in for a night of high fat bastardness.

[Photo Credit: Christian Science Monitor]

Here’s Jerry Crasnick on the hot-hitting former Yank, Lance Berkman:

Teammates, opponents, managers, fans, media members and scouts regard Berkman as an uncommonly nice person and the classic case of an athlete who has his act together. He’s quotable, approachable and brimming with perspective, and he’s that rare star player who’s able to dissect his game through a self-deprecating lens. But the game isn’t always fun when the bat and ball can feel like a ball and chain.

“Most of my career, I’ve almost had to let that cloud hang over me, because it’s part of what keeps you sharp mentally,” Berkman said by phone earlier this week. “I know the fickle nature of hitting. You can be as hot as a pistol one day, and the next thing you know you can’t figure out where to put your feet. It’s such a difficult thing to do, you’re always just trying to survive.

“I have a tendency to take things to extremes and take a doomsday approach when things aren’t going well. I’ll think, ‘This is not good,’ or, ‘The next slump is just around the corner.’ I’m always leery of hot streaks, because I know the game can turn on you in a heartbeat.”

Good dude, that Lance (even if his name is Lance). I’m glad he’s doing well.

So just how long should the Yankees wait before making some kind of move with Derek Jeter and/or Jorge Posada? While it’s become fashionable to proclaim both players as fully cooked and ready to begin their five-year waits for Hall of Fame consideration, those calls convey ignorance and a lack of knowledge about the Yankee organization. First off, it’s foolish to make full judgments based on the first month of the season. The same people that always cry out “sample size” conveniently forget about the principle when it involves players they don’t like. Jeter has been so reviled by some in the Sabermetric community that they’re ready to drop the guillotine at a moment’s notice.

His critics will quickly add that Jeter’s poor performance is a continuation of his 2010 finish, but his overall 2010 numbers were hardly as bad as what he’s done early in 2011. On the whole, Jeter was a passable player in 2010. So let’s give it more than a month before we proclaim a death knell. I would suggest the Yankees give Jeter at least until the end of May, if not until the middle of June, before they drop him to a lower spot in the batting order. And if his lack of hitting continues beyond that, let’s say into July, then it would certainly be fair for the Yankees to consider removing him entirely from the starting lineup.

There is another reason to have patience. Who exactly is ready to step in to become the starting shortstop? Bucky Dent and Tony Kubek are not available. Eduardo Nunez’ throwing problems make it clear that he’s not ready NOW; he might be later this season, he might be in 2012, but he’s clearly not ready at the present time. Ramiro Pena, starting at Triple-A Scranton/Wilkes Barre, is an excellent defensive shortstop but isn’t likely to represent any improvement over Jeter’s current hitting. Are Yankee fans really ready to wade through a bottom-third of the lineup that has both Pena and Brett Gardner? I know I’m not.

Then there’s the case of Posada, who’s coming off a respectable season in 2010. Would it be smart to give up on Posada so quickly, especially when he’s at least shown significant power over the first 30 games? I don’t think so. I would suggest a similar timetable with Posada. If he’s still struggling badly at the end of May, it would be fair to consider a platoon with another player, perhaps Andruw Jones. And if Posada is still struggling into July, and the Yankees are in danger of falling out of contention, then yes, it might be the right time for a total replacement.

In the case of Posada, the Yankees DO have tangible replacement options. Jones is one; the other is super prospect Jesus Montero, who is close to being ready to hit in the major leagues, if not handle regular catching duties. (Montero is finally drawing a few walks and has his batting average up to .372.) Montero could be just what an aging offense needs, particularly if Jeter’s punchless hitting continues. The problem with demoting Posada is what to do with him? Teams do not need backup DH’s who cannot play the field and cannot run the bases. Unless the Yankees change their mind about using Posada as a backup catcher, he could become a roster albatross by the middle of the summer.

It’s certainly possible that Posada and Jeter, who’s been nicknamed “Captain Groundout” by Rob Neyer, might be done as useful players. It’s just too early in a long season to draw that conclusion once and for all. So let’s give it a little more time before we make them walk the plank…

(more…)

Jonah Keri headlines Gelf’s Varsity Letters Speaking series tomorrow night. I’m not going to be able to make it due to a conflict in my schedule but Jonah is a rip–as evidenced by this interview with Gelf. If you are downtown, do yourself a favor and pop in.

Check out this great new site, Sportsfeat.com where vintage sports writing is celebrated. Dig this piece from Sport Magazine on Earl Monroe by the Wood Man:

I didn’t follow basketball until 1967. Baseball, boxing, and the theater provided most of my entertainment. The theater has since become boring and there are no plays approaching the pleasure given by a good sporting event. Even a game against a last-place team holds the possibility of thrills, whereas in the theater all seems relatively predictable. Baseball remains a joy for me, but basketball has emerged as the most beautiful of sports. In basketball, more than in virtually any other sport, personal style shines brightest. It allows for eccentric, individual play.

Give the basketball to such diverse talents as Julius Erving, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Walt Frazier, Rick Barry, George McGinnis, Dave Bing, or Bob McAdoo, to name a tiny fraction, and you get dramatically distinctive styles of dribbling, passing, shooting, and defensive play. There is great room in basketball for demonstrable physical artistry that often can be compared to serious dance.

So there I was in 1967 leafing through the sports section of a newspaper one day (I still read that section first) when I came across the name Earl Monroe. I had never heard of Monroe, knew nothing of his daily rookie brilliance nor ever heard of his astounding feats at Winston-Salem. I just liked the name, free-floating, three syllables, and euphonious to me. Earl Monroe. The name worked. (Years later, when I did a film called Sleeper, I named myself Miles Monroe. On me it was kind of a funny name.) I came across Monroe’s name again every few days as I glanced over the basketball box scores in a casual, disinterested way and noticed that he invariably led the scoring column.

I don’t know what surprised me more: that tonight’s Yankees game was barely over two hours long, or that Bartolo Colon pitched eight one-run innings. Actually, I guess Colon pitching eight good innings isn’t really all that surprising anymore… and that is, in itself, kind of surprising. If you think that last sentence was confusing, well, we live in a world where Bartolo Colon has been the Yankees’ second-best pitcher, so yeah. Things are confusing. Yankees 3, White Sox 1.

It does bear repeating that these are the offense-challenged White Sox, and batting Juan Pierre leadoff is tantamount to giving your opponent a handicap, but still – Colon’s shown by now that he’s not just getting lucky here. Another team might have hit him harder, certainly, but he’s got decent enough velocity and very good control (just one walk allowed tonight, with 7 hits scattered around), although he also hit a batter – Carlos Quentin, who is having kind of a rough series. Mariano Rivera closed it out with a reassuring perfect inning.

The Yankee hitters aren’t doing as well as their pitchers this series – once again all their offense came on a Robinson Cano homer, which scored Jeter and A-Rod in the first inning. But there are worse way to win a ballgame, so far as that goes, and I don’t think scoring runs will be what holds the Yankees back this year. Meanwhile, Mark Teixeira was removed for Eric Chavez in the 8th inning, for what’s being called a “sore shoulder”; here’s hoping it’s minor.

More troubling shoulder news: apparently it’s possible that Phil Hughes has something called Thoracic Outlet Syndrome, which sounds like it should involve dinosaurs and power plugs, but is actually way less cool. If it requires surgery it could cost him the season, but recovery time varies and nothing is known for sure yet. So stay tuned, as the Yankees go for a series split tomorrow…

Not "Thoracic Outlet Syndrome" apparently

Remember…

Tomorrow night at 10:00 p.m. on the National Geographic Channel:

Break it Down: Yankee Stadium

Well. At least the starting pitching’s been good?

Ivan Nova was nearly as good as AJ Burnett was the night before — granted, this is the White Sox, who have not been tearing things up at the plate lately — and he ended up with no more to show for it.  Yep, tonight’s game has to be the leader for Most Frustrating Loss of the early season.

Given that Brian Cashman was (perhaps unwisely) honest about not wanting to sign Rafael Soriano at all, his leash with his new team is even shorter than the one most middle relievers get. And after his disappearing act on Monday night’s pop-up, a strong performance tonight would have been… nice. Instead, he gave up a two-run homer to Paul Konerko, and the lead along with it. A homer to Paul Konerko isn’t anything to be ashamed of in and of itself; the guy had 369 of them already. But it was preceded by a hit batter and followed by a walk, and while I don’t believe it’s wise to read too much into a player’s “body language” while sitting on my futon, Soriano’s general demeanor did not inspire confidence. There was much angry stomping around.

Meanwhile, the Yankees’ only offense came via a Robinson Cano homer in the 2nd, and a Brett Gardner (!) solo shot in the 5th. This against Gavin Floyd, who went eight innings and struck out 10. At least that’s less embarrassing than the previous evening’s stifling at the hands of Philip Humber.

There are plenty of questions to ask about Joe Girardi’s management last night (starting with: has anyone seen Joba Chamberlain anywhere? Someone want to check under the clubhouse sofa cushions?), including his choice to go to Soriano at the most crucial point of a one-run game (current ERA: 7.84), and, although it didn’t matter in the end, following him with Boone Logan and Buddy “Who?” Carlyle. Never trust anyone named Buddy, my mother didn’t used to tell me but probably should have.

Adding injury to injury, if you will: after Soriano plunked Carlos Quentin, just before the Konerko home run, he was taken out of the game and replaced with Brent Lillibridge… who went on to make not one but two game-saving catches in the bottom of the ninth inning. Derek Jeter led off the inning with a dribbler of a single, Granderson bunted (which I didn’t like, but can see the argument for in the ninth inning of a one-run game). The Sox pitcher was Matt Thornton, who leads the AL in blown saves with 4, and Ozzie Guillen wasn’t messing around this time – once Thornton walked Mark Teixeira he was out of there. Two on, one out, Alex Rodriguez and Robinson Cano coming up… enter Lillibridge, with an excellent catch against the right-field wall and another on a flat-out dive.

Via LoHud, here’s Ozzie Guillen after the game:

“When Alex hit the first one I said, here we go again. The last guy that I wanted to see in that situation was Cano. When you look at the lineup that’s going to be due up in the last inning, you know you have to bring your best bullets. The ball bounced our way tonight. That’s just the way the way the baseball is. Baseball is so crazy.”

This is definitely the kind of loss one might stew over if one were so inclined. Perhaps some sort of sacrifice to the Baseball Gods is in order, to make things right.

—

Fun fact: I was at Monday night’s game, which it turns out is tied for the lowest-scoring game ever at the New Yankee Stadium with one other… a 2009 15-inning Red Sox match which, as it happens, I also attended. Flee before me, runs!

Yesterday we got our first looks at Ian O’Connor’s new Derek Jeter book, “The Captain,” with promises of dirt and controversy. And, in turn, we got our first backlash and criticism of the book from fans who dislike this kind of rumor-mongering coverage of Jeter – who may be playing like an Eduardo Nunez with less range but is still, dammit, Derek Jeter.

The Post (of course) trumpets the book as “a soap-opera saga filled with power and betrayal.” Dun dun DUN! But when you look at what the book actually contains, that seems to be overstating things a bit. Here’s what the Post followed that up with:

Jeter’s unyielding insistence on loyalty and his dislike for A-Rod during the third baseman’s early years in pinstripes was so legendary that one Yankees official admitted he was too scared to talk to Jeter about making amends with his teammate.

“It would’ve been the last conversation I ever had with Derek,” the official said. “I would’ve been dead to him. It would’ve been like approaching Joe DiMaggio to talk to him about Marilyn Monroe.”

Don Mattingly, then the hitting coach and former captain, tried to intervene, citing his own unfriendly history with teammate Wade Boggs.

“I faked it with Boggs,” he told Jeter. “And you have to fake it with Alex.”

So…Alex Rodriguez really annoyed Derek Jeter? No kidding. (I am way more interested in this Mattingly-Boggs feud. Tell us more, Donnie!) I admit to finding the above quote somewhat interesting just because I’m always curious to know how players talk to each other when there aren’t ESPN cameras and reporters nearby. But I also recognize that all of this is massively silly. These are grown professionals, not middle schoolers in the cafeteria. Who really cares whether Jeter and A-Rod like each other? Does anyone think that was a bigger issue for the Yankees than, say, pitching? There’s more:

“If you do something to hurt [Jeter], that’s it, you’re done,” Mike Borzello, a bullpen catcher close with Jeter, told the author. “You had your chance.”

Jeter got a measure of revenge at the 2001 All-Star Game, when a smitten Rodriguez introduced him to Latin songstress Joy Enriquez. Jeter wasted no time — the singer and the shortstop began dating.

In the 2008 off-season, Cashman set his sights on signing prized free agent CC Sabathia, the Milwaukee Brewers’ Cy Young Award winner.

“CC’s main concern was our clubhouse, and how people got along,” Cashman told the author. “I told him the truth. ‘Yeah, we are broken. One reason we’re committing [$161 million] to you is you’re a team builder. We need somebody to bring us together.’ ”

The Yankees ponied up extra cash — the most expensive contract for a pitcher to date — to bring the clubhouse Band-Aid to the roster.

Meanwhile, time — and most importantly wins — softened the rift between the two players.

“Derek understands Alex’s positives and negatives,” said Buck Showalter, who managed both Jeter and Rodriguez early in their careers. “He’s come to understand the way Alex is.”

Oh sure, credit time and wins if you want to… Is there nothing C.C. Sabathia can’t do? Can we send him to the middle east?

Anyway, it seems like this book will be a font of fresh details, but it doesn’t appear to describe any big events or ideas that we didn’t already know about. There’s also apparently a significant amount in here about Jeter’s most recent contract negotiations – ESPN NY has some of those details –  but, again, while it sounds like a detailed account it’s also mostly what we’d already inferred from the winter coverage. I don’t think I’ve ever met O’Connor; he’s been around for a long time and has very good sources, as well as a talent for stirring things up. I remember a few years ago (I can’t seem to find the article – anyone remember when it was?) he drew some criticism for tracking down and interviewing Steinbrenner at his house, at a time when the Yankees owner was maybe no longer sharp mentally and not talking to the press. I think that was defensible, in that Steinbrenner was still the team’s owner, officially, and as such a public figure; at the same time, I can’t say it wasn’t uncomfortable to read. That’s hardly an issue here, though – Derek Jeter can take care of himself and is a perfectly valid target for a juicy book.

In fact, for all the people who are already criticizing the book – while Jeter wants to make sure people know that he’s not officially affiliated with it, he did talk to O’Connor for it, and allowed many of his friends and coworkers to do the same. Guys like Mike Borzello, quoted above, aren’t about to agree to an interview with O’Connor without checking with Jeter first. Technically it’s “unauthorized,” but Jeter clearly cooperated to a certain extent, so presumably he at least got the chance to explain his side of things.

Without having read it I can’t say anything for certain, but from the information at hand, I don’t think it’s the sordid mud-flinging that people seem to be expecting. Maybe a little embarrassing, sure. But fans’ views of Derek Jeter this year will be influenced by how, or if, he hits, much more than by any tidbits in “The Captain.”

There is a long piece on Manny Ramirez’s high school years at GW today in the Times.

Bronx Banter Book Excerpt

Memory Lane: A Truly Blown Save

By Charley Rosen

Here’s the testimony of a onetime Yankee starting pitcher who wishes to remain anonymous:

“I’d pitched on Friday night and I’d partied with all my heart after my complete-game win. I was still hungover and feeling pretty blotto by the time I reported to the Stadium for Saturday’s afternoon game. So I hid from the skipper in the trainer’s room as long as I could, gulping down as many cups of black coffee as my already queasy stomach could take. Still, my eyes were bloodshot, my skin had a yellowish tinge, I felt like someone had driven a spike into my forehead, and it seemed that I was perpetually in danger of tossing my cookies. If the skipper saw me in this condition, his hard stare would be enough for me to vomit on his shoes. So, after cringing in the trainer’s room for about five innings, and squatting on the porcelain throne for two more, I decided to hide out in the bullpen.

“Now one of the team’s veteran relievers had a hard-on for the skipper, but only because he thought the skipper had a hard-on for him. It seems that the pitcher, let’s call him Joe, had one or two top-notch years coming out of the Yankees bullpen and racking up a modest but impressive amount of saves. But as Joe’s slider began to lose its bite, he was only being used in mop-up situations.

“Joe would sit in the bullpen and bitch about how he was being denied the chance to make the money he deserved. ‘Wins and saves,’ he’d say. ‘That’s what pays the big bucks. And here I am wasting the best years of my career only working in blowouts.’

“Anyway, on this particular afternoon, our best reliever had a sore arm, and two other guys had pitched long innings on Thursday night. The only other available relievers were Joe and some raw rookie who couldn’t be trusted to wipe his ass after he took a crap. Meanwhile, our starter was in trouble every inning. Walking guys, hitting two or three, giving up line-drive hits, but barely managing to survive because the other guys made some stupid baserunning mistakes. Plus he was the beneficiary of two outstanding fielding plays that resulted in bang-bang double plays. And our lineup was smashing the shit out of the ball, so we were up by a score of ten to five. It should also be noted that if a reliever pitched three innings to close out a winning game, he’d get a save no matter what the final score was.

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I went to Citifield yesterday. Dig these two on line at Shake Shack…

I was there with my two cousins and the wife. We had a great time (Shake Shack, Mets Win, Shake Shack)…

That’s us singing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”