There is a heavily graffitied wall just north of Isham St, where Isham Park spills out onto Broadway. It’s sanctioned graffiti, done with care and in broad daylight. Some of the murals have been excellent, others have been less so, but they always brighten the corner.
Yesterday, I saw the artist at work for the first time.
I would have stuck around to see him finish, but I had two important meetings up on the hill.
That’s a tightly packed sixty seconds; thanks New York.
Lost amidst the concerns over the shoulder inflammation experienced by Michael Pineda, one of the most interesting stories of Yankee camp has involved the status of two outfielders who are at a crossroads in their careers. Justin Maxwell and Chris Dickerson are both capable of serving as fifth outfielders on a major league roster, but they are finding no room in a crowded and well-established outfield. The Yankees are set to open the new season with five outfielders, with three of the slots taken by starters Brett Gardner, Curtis Granderson, and Nick Swisher, and the other two going to DH platoon partners Andruw Jones and Raul Ibanez.
Unfortunately, the Yankees cannot send either Dickerson or Maxwell to Triple-A, at least not without passing through waivers. Both players are out of options, and both are likely to be claimed by another team if the Yankees try to sneak them through the waiver wire. So the Yankees may be forced to trade one or both of them, or risk losing them for nothing more than the waiver price.
Maxwell, in particular, has opened the eyes of the Yankee brass with his speed, range, and live bat. Like Dickerson, he can play all three outfield positions, which is important given the defensive limitations of Ibanez and the age of Jones. Mad Max might also be the fastest runner in the organization, making him a potential weapon as a pinch-runner. But he’s also 28 years of age, hardly the age of a true prospect, and coming off of major surgery to his throwing shoulder.
So what should the Yankees do? Perhaps the most sensible thing would be to chuck the obsession with a 12-man pitching staff and carry Maxwell as the sixth outfielder. But I just don’t think the Yankees are daring enough to try something different. If that’s indeed the case, then a trade would make the most sense. There are teams, such as the Mets, who are desperately in need of outfield help. With Andres Torres sidelined by leg problems and most of their alternatives better suited to backup or minor league duty, Maxwell could probably start in center field for the Mets right now. The Mets and Yankees hardly ever make trades, but the circumstances might be right for a current exchange, provided the Mets are willing to fork over a C-level prospect from the lower reaches of their minor league system…
***
The injury to Pineda will not only change the configuration of the starting rotation, but it will alter the dynamic of the bullpen. With a healthy Pineda, Freddy Garcia appeared to be the odd man out of the rotation and likely would have been ticketed for long man duty in the pen. Now that Garcia will be starting, the Yankees will have an opening for a long reliever. It figures to be one of three Triple-A prospects: D.J. Mitchell, David Phelps, and Adam Warren. Of the three, Warren throws the hardest, but Mitchell may be best suited to relief work because of his hard sinker.
Earl Weaver would certainly approve of the Yankees’ plan to use a pitching prospect in long relief. The former Orioles skipper was a big believer in breaking in his young pitchers in the relatively pressure-free role of long relief. If they succeeded out of the bullpen, Weaver would then challenge them further by pushing them into the rotation. Weaver certainly had a long record of success with young pitchers in Baltimore, from Jim Palmer and Dave McNally to Doyle Alexander and Ross Grimsley to Mike Flanagan and Scott McGregor.
The Yankees can only hope for similar success from either Mitchell, Phelps, or Warren.
***
After a poor start to the spring training season, Raul Ibanez has shown some life in a body that is closing in on 40. He has hit three home runs over the last week, while showing power to both left and right field. Even if Ibanez had continued to struggle in Grapefruit League play, he was never going to lose his job on the Opening Day roster. Still, the Yankees remain on red alert with regard to the DH position. If Ibanez struggles over the first couple of months of the season, do not be at all surprised if the Yankees cut bait with him and look very seriously at the possibility of signing Johnny Damon. Ibanez is coming off a subpar season in Philadelphia, and given his age, it shouldn’t be any shock if he turns out to be cooked as a major league hitter.
Of all the remaining unsigned free agents, Damon is the best available player. He still has sufficient power and speed to make him dangerous, even if he can’t play the outfield anymore. His OPS of .743 was significantly better than Ibanez’ mark of .707. And he did so without the benefit of having Citizens Bank Park as his home field.
So why hasn’t Damon found a job yet, with the regular season just days away? Damon has been hurt by two factors this off-season: he’s insistent on wanting an everyday DH role because of his pursuit of 3,000 hits, and he’s a Scott Boras client, which can be a discouraging factor to some potential suitors. If Damon were smart, he’d willingly sign as a platoon DH with the Yankees, if only because some playing time is better than no playing time. If Damon were to hit well enough, there’s always a possibility that the Yankees would expand his role and make him the regular DH, though he’d have to concede some DH time to Alex Rodriguez, Derek Jeter, and Nick Swisher. But by continuing to sit on the sidelines, Damon won’t be able to impress anybody.
Yankees aside, I hope that Damon signs with some major league club between now and May. Not only can the man still hit, but he brings an energy to the ballpark and to the clubhouse. He’s a fun player to watch. Without a doubt, Johnny Damon should play somewhere in 2012.
Bruce Markusen writes “Cooperstown Confidential” for The Hardball Times.
The Yankees approach the new season with questions surrounding the starting rotation. That’s no surprise, we’ve been talking about those shortcomings ever since Javier Vazquez became the least welcome sequel after Staying Alive (tough choice, lots of terrible sequels).
The surprise is that the Yankees have too many starters now. But once again, they’re having a very hard time finding five of them that are ready to be effective come opening day. Here’s a take on the problem from John Harper in Daily News.
The stats in spring training may be meaningless, but as Phil Hughes demonstrated last year, if you are not ready to answer the bell once the games count, you will get obliterated. So I hope Joe Girardi learned that lesson and will leave behind anyone that can’t cut it.
What if that means leaving Michael Pineda behind? If he’s going to get lit up like Hughes last year, then it’s for the best. But I will have a much happier time this spring if Michael Pineda is pitching well for the Yankees. Revisiting the Montero deal ad nauseum is inevitible, but it won’t be upsetting if Pineda delivers something positive right away.
What’s your rotation now? What’s your rotation once Pettitte is back?
Now: CC, Kuroda, Pineda, Hughes, Nova
Then: Pettitte replaces Nova
If Nova is pitching better than Hughes, that can be amended.
After three or four years of avoiding the arduous climb whenever possible, I now usually take the stairs at 215th St and Broadway when I have a choice. There are 110 of ’em so it’s a challenge, but a welcome one after desk-jockeying all day.
2010.
1915.
This picture from 1916, taken from the East side of Broadway gives you a better idea of the climb.
What challenges do look forward to on your walks about town? Which ones do you avoid? I know I try to avoid the subway on treks of less than twenty blocks, though I’ll train it for less than ten in the rain.
Photos via myinwood.net & placematters.net
A subway train retirement village at 215th St.
My neighbor and I boarded the downtown A Train at rush hour one morning last week where I noticed a man drawing a portrait in a seat close to us. He was using bold strokes and working quickly.
The artist was a Black man, around forty years old by my guess, and he wore close-cropped facial hair and an army-green cap. His two front teeth appeared to be wrestling and the right tooth was winning.
My neighbor and I chatted for several stops and I didn’t give the artist another thought until I turned my head and saw that five or six people in our vicinity were holding portraits of themselves. The artist was reaching across the aisle to hand a fresh drawing to a stout, middle-aged Korean man who had his eyes closed.
The Korean man rejected the drawing without looking at it. Generally, this isn’t an insulting move. If you took every piece of paper that was handed to you in this city, you’d drown in the stuff. The artist explained, albeit with an edge, that he was handing him a drawing. The Korean man relented, though I still don’t think he understood what was going on.
And the Korean man’s instincts were at least partially on target. The artist was seeking tips. It was a clever, much more palatable (to me anyway) method of asking for cash on the subway, but it still put the recipient of the portrait on the spot. Some people gave the artist money for the drawing, some didn’t.
I leaned over to see the picture of the Korean man. It was a very good-not-great likeness, but when I considered that it was probably the seventh drawing the artist had done in less than thirty minutes, I bumped up the grade. He saw me looking and asked if I wanted a picture too.
I wanted to say yes, but we were slowing down to arrive at my stop, so I told him that there wasn’t time. He went to work on someone else. Then the train stopped and we waited for ten minutes poised right outside the 59th st stop. He finished three more drawings in the ten-minute delay.
He didn’t come back to me, but he did catch my neighbor. Check it out.
I found the artist on the internet. His name is Roderick Perry Anthony and he signs “Orin” on his artwork. This is a profile of him from 2006. He’s still (or back) on the subway in 2012, and whatever that means for his career at large, I admire his dedication to his art.
Drawing by Orin
Once Hideki Okajima failed his physical, most Yankee observers assumed that Joe Girardi would carry only one left-hander–the erratic Boone Logan–in the Opening Day bullpen. That situation may have changed now, thanks to the remarkable spring performances of two obscure pitchers, veteran Clay Rapada and minor leaguer Cesar Cabral. The two southpaws have pitched so well in Grapefruit League play that Girardi and Brian Cashman are now considering the possibility of carrying a second left-hander.
On the surface, Rapada is not that impressive. He’s a 31-year-old journeyman who’s pitched for four teams in five years, doesn’t throw hard, and carries a lifetime ERA of 5.13. But thanks to one of the funkiest lefty deliveries I’ve ever seen, he is virtual Kryptonite to left-handed hitters, holding them to a batting average of .153 and an on-base percentage of .252 in his career. Combining funk and finesse, Rapada has clearly demonstrated the ability of overmatching lefty swingers. This spring, he has struck out nine batters in seven innings while not giving up a single run.
Cabral is a lesser known quantity than Rapada, but has the higher ceiling. Very quietly, he was selected by the Yankees out of the Red Sox’ system in December’s Rule 5 draft. He was above average at Double-A Salem last year, pitching to the tune of a 3.52 ERA and striking out 46 batters in 38 innings. With a smooth and fluid delivery, Cabral throws a fastball in the low nineties, topping out at the 95 mile-an-hour mark. He also has an excellent swing-and-miss changeup which can make him effective against right-handed batters. That ability would make him more than a lefty-on-lefty matchup reliever.
Like Rapada, Cabral has been brilliant this spring. The 23-year old has struck out 11 batters and walked only one in eight-plus innings. The Yankees have been duly impressed.
Here’s the trick with Cabral. As a Rule 5 draftee, he has to stay on the Yankee roster all season or be offered back to the Red Sox. If the Yankees try to slip him through waivers, he has almost no chance of clearing; someone will take a chance on a young left-hander with his ability.
If I were a betting man–and I’m not, unless it’s someone else’s money–I’d bet on the Yankees carrying two left-handers on Opening Day. After all, Girardi does love his late-inning matchups. And if I were to wager on either Cabral or Rapada, I’ll predict the Yankees take Cabral. With youth and stuff on his side–not to mention the chance to stick it to Bobby Valentine and the Red Sox–Cabral will be the choice.
By the way, if Cabral makes the Opening Day roster, he’ll become the first Yankee with the name of “Cesar” since Cesar Tovar played for Billy Martin in 1976.
***
In case you’re wondering why you haven’t seen Russell Branyan in any of these Grapefruit League exhibition games, it’s because he remains sidelined with a bad back. The injury has prevented “Russell The Muscle” from playing any games in Florida; somehow the Yankees have been listing him as day-to-day on their pregame notes, dating all the way back to the beginning of spring training.
Branyan’s inability to hit or play the field will likely cost him any chance of making the Opening Day roster. His chances were slim to begin with, but if he could have proven his ability to play a little third base and still hit with some power, he might have been a valuable backup. Now, his best chance of staying with the Yankees could depend on his willingness to go to Triple-A Scranton/Wilkes Barre, where he could be an infield insurance policy. It might be Branyan’s best bet. Given his age and health, I find it hard to believe that any of the other 29 teams would give a guaranteed major league contract to Branyan.
With Branyan pretty much out of the picture, Eric Chavez becomes a lock to make the team as a backup third baseman/first baseman and occasional DH. The question now becomes: who will be the main utility infielder, Eduardo Nunez or veteran Bill Hall?
Clearly the favorite, Nunez is younger, faster, and more athletic. Many observers have already penciled him in as the primary utility infielder, but until the Yankees release Hall, there is a sliver of doubt. While Nunez has more natural talent and youth on his side, Hall has more power and has more experience filling the difficult role of being a part-time player. He also does not have chronic trouble throwing the ball, a habit that plagued Nunez throughout last season. Based on spring training performance, Nunez currently has the advantage. He’s hitting over .300 while Hall is batting in the low .200s.
Perhaps the wise thing to do would be to start the season with Hall, see if he has anything left at the age of 31, and let Nunez compile some regular at-bats in Triple-A. If Hall proves he cannot play, the Yankees can always make the switch to Nunez in mid-season…
***
Very few trades are made during spring training, but the Yankees’ depth in pitching and in the middle infield could result in a deal or two. According to one report, the Yankees have offered Freddy Garcia to the Marlins, but Miami, which has already added free agent Mark Buehrle, wasn’t interested. Still, there are always teams looking for pitching in the spring; the list of Garcia suitors could include the Cardinals and the Tigers. Another rumor has the Yankees talking about a swap of Garcia for Bobby Abreu, but the Angels would have to throw in some money to offset Abreu’s $8 million salary. Garcia is making only $4 million.
On a completely different front, the Phillies, who are currently working without Chase Utley and his ailing knees, have talked to the Yankees about middle infield help. The Phillies are legitimately concerned that Utley will miss the entire season, if not have his career come to an abrupt end. Backup infielder Michael Martinez is also injured, so the Phillies have approached the Yankees about Ramiro Pena, who has no chance of making the Yankees’ Opening Day roster and is destined to start the season for the Scranton/Wilkes Barre traveling baseball show. Pena would likely serve as a defensive caddy behind Placido Polanco, who may be moved back to second base if Utley’s knees are as bad as the Phillies fear.
[Picture by Bags]
Bruce Markusen writes “Cooperstown Confidential” for The Hardball Times.
I used to commute from New Jersey into the city for my first job. Last Thursday night I stayed out at my family’s house in the suburbs to borrow a car.
On Friday morning, I drove across the George Washington Bridge just as the sun was rising over Washington Heights.
I don’t miss the traffic, but this was a great way to start a day.
Chipper Jones said that this year will be his last. Over at SI.com, our man Cliff Corcoran appreciates the future Hall of Famer.
[Photo Credit: Pouya Dianat / AP]
If you’re looking for connections between the current Yankee organization and the 1972 season, there are not many. Other than some minority shareholders and some old-time spring training instructors, there really is no one left from the 1972 days. Except for Gene Michael, that is. These days, he serves as one of Brian Cashman’s senior advisors, giving him advice on such newsworthy matters as the re-signing of the formerly retired Andy Pettitte. Back then, some 40 summers ago, Michael did his best to give the shortstop position the kind of defensive dignity it had lacked since the days of Tony Kubek.
Gene Michael looks a little bit surprised on his 1972 card, as if he isn’t quite ready for the snapshot taken by the Topps photographer. But it is most fitting that he is posed with a glove, for that was by far his best tool as a player. Michael really couldn’t run very fast, and he couldn’t hit a lick, though he did have enough patience to coax a walk here and there. He certainly had no power, with a total of 15 home runs in ten seasons. But he could handle the glove. And notice how small that glove was. We’ve always heard that middle infielders prefer small gloves so that they can take the ball out of the glove quickly and make a fast throw to one of the bases, but that glove is really stretching the limits of that theory.
It‘s rather amazing that Michael established himself as the master of the bidden ball trick using that small of a glove. Where exactly did he hide the ball? In his shirt? Yet, Michael could pull that play better than anyone in history. Here’s what he would do. With the runner at second base assuming that the pitcher was holding the ball, Michael would casually sidle over toward the second base bag with his ball nestled in his glove. He would then place a decisive tag on the unsuspecting victim before making the ball readily apparent to the umpire.
It’s a play that major leaguers rarely use in today’s game–I can’t remember the last time I saw a second baseman or shortstop pull it off–but Michael did it with a stunning degree of frequency. According to the official records, he executed the hidden ball trick at least five times. Considering that the hidden ball play relies on surprise and deception, it’s remarkable that Michael was able to execute it more than once or twice.
By the time that Michael had refined the hidden ball trick, he was well established as a Yankee. But he did not start out in the organization, instead coming up through the Pirates’ system. Signed by the Pirates in 1959 after a standout career as a basketball player at Kent State, the six-foot, two-inch Michael might have wondered at times if he should have signed with one of the NBA teams that wanted him. “Stick” rode the minor league buses for seven seasons before finally making it to the major leagues in 1966, when he was already 28.
Though he was unusually tall and lanky for a shortstop of that era, he impressed the Pirates with his fielding and his range. His hitting was another story. A .152 batting average in 33 plate appearances will discourage a coaching staff. After the season, the Pirates had a chance to upgrade the position by acquiring Maury Wills, so they did just that. They packaged Michael with power hitting third baseman Bob “Beetle” Bailey, and sent them to the Dodgers for the mercurial Wills.
Michael didn’t hit much better for the Dodgers, who evaluated him for one season before deciding that he couldn’t play every day and selling him to the Yankees in a minor transaction. He entered the 1969 season with a chance to become New York’s No. 1 shortstop, but his bat remained quiet, limiting him to 61 games. Then came the best offensive outburst of his career. He lifted his average from .198 to .272 and cemented himself as the first-string shortstop.
He never came close to hitting that well again, but the Yankees didn’t seem to mind, as long as he gobbled up groundballs like a Hoover, showed a knack for heady plays, and turned his share of double plays with second base partner Horace Clarke. Steady and smooth, he remained the Yankees’ regular shortstop through the 1973 season. In 1974, he lost the job to Jim Mason. That winter, the Yankees, believing they had a capable replacement in Mason (boy, they were wrong on that one), released Michael. He later latched on with the Tigers, where he filled a role as a utility infielder for one season before being released.
It’s not particularly well remembered, but the Red Sox gave Michael a spring training invite in February of 1976. Michael stayed with the Red Sox through late May, but never actually appeared in a game for Boston before drawing his release. That’s why you won’t find Michael listed as a Red Sock in his entry at Baseball-Reference. The release not only ended his Red Sox tenure before it began, but it ended his well-traveled career.
While Michael’s playing career was unremarkable, it was after his playing days that he established his genius in the game. Michael’s intelligence had always impressed George Steinbrenner, who hired him as a coach and then as a manager, before making him a part of the front office. He then spent some time as manager with the Cubs, where he was criticized by Dallas Green for not being tough enough, before coming back to New York. In the early 1990s, the downtrodden Yankees, having hit one of the worst stretches in their history, turned the task of rebuilding the franchise over to Michael.
As a general manager, Michael didn’t bring much flash or showmanship. With his extremely deep voice and chopped manner of speaking, he wasn’t particularly engaging in interview settings; in some ways, he was the antithesis of Billy Beane (or Brad Pitt). While Michael didn’t know much about glitz or self-promoting, he knew what he was doing in putting a team together, while still emphasizing the Sabermetric principles of on-base percentage and defensive range. He placed an emphasis on player development, which included the drafting or signing of such cornerstone players as Pettitte, Mariano Rivera, Jorge Posada and Derek Jeter. He patiently waited for the right trade to come his way. On Election Day 1992, he made his signature move by trading Roberto Kelly to the Reds for Paul O’Neill. The trade changed the look of the lineup, while bringing an intensity, a property that had been sorely missing, to the Yankee clubhouse.
It’s unfortunate that Michael was fired as GM before he could see the benefits of his labors. The 1994 strike didn’t help matters either. It’s possible the Yankees would have advanced to the Series that ill-fated year, in what turned out to be Stick’s second-to-last season at the helm.
And those who know the game realize the importance that Michael had in laying the foundation for the success of the late 1990s and early 2000s. He deserves credit, just like Cashman and Bob Watson. Not bad for a guy who didn’t see the major leagues until he was 28.
Thankfully, Michael remains part of the Yankee organization today. I feel a lot better about things knowing that Gene “Stick” Michael is still around.
Bruce Markusen writes “Cooperstown Confidential” for The Hardball Times.
[Featured Image Via Linnett Portraits]
Yankee game is on TV this afternoon.
Chad Jennings does a nice job of recapping the Andy Pettitte story over at Lo-Hud. And here is more from Ken Rosenthal.
Play Ball.
[Picture by Bags]
The Cinderella Story is bullshit. It’s just an excuse to laugh and point at the misery of teams and fans with deservedly high expectations. We’re Yankee fans, we should get that.
“Who do you want to win the Series, man on the street?”
“Anyone but the Yankees.”
“Thanks, man on the street. You’re an asshat.”
Whatever. The Yanks are the bullies and the badasses and the rich kids and the guys who get the girls. If anyone deserves that treatment, it’s the Yankees. But the celebration of generic upsets that is March Madness is just cynicism thinly veiled with smile and fist pump.
“Yes, I am really happy really just happy that Bumblefuck U and their 15 fans have won a game and not at all reveling in the tears of that number one or two seed that is obviously a way better team.”
“Man, are you the same asshat that we met on the street earlier?”
The NCAA tournament is one of the great sinkholes. Fall in on a Thursday, emerge on Sunday night. Three days to recharge and reenter on the second Thursday. By the time you climb back out on that second Sunday night, will your job and family still be waiting? Saints, all of them, if they are.
But if your team gets upset on opening night, you’re ripped from the cocoon. Even worse, you’re out, everyone else is in, and you can’t escape the proceedings. You just have to hang at the back of the dance hall, moping, and wait for someone else to join you.
My team has been ousted on opening weekend by lower seeds in its last three appearances and I’m pretty sick of it. One of the matchups featured a good old fashioned soul fucking by the referees and a future NBA star auditioning his supernova in the second half (Davidson and Steph Curry). The other two losses were to teams sprinkled with magical pixie dust – one fast acting (Ohio), the other long lasting (VCU).
Just get to that second weekend. Extend our stay down in the hole. Please. We’ve only got so many more of these tournaments before the NCAA’s blatant corruption and exploitation collapse the enitre eco-system.
This year, the most popular upset pick is Belmont. They didn’t even have to win a game to become this tournament’s darlings. In the past, at least the media would save its slobber for an actual winner. Great for Belmont and all the bullshit offensive fouls they will draw on Friday.
Perhaps it will be mentioned that Ken Pomeroy ranks them as the 23rd best team in the country, and thus likely the best 14th seed in the history of the tournament? Suddenly an upset would not seem so staggering nor suggestive of all that’s right with America. Simply calling it “a fairly likely outcome” wouldn’t even put in dent in Jim Nantz’s hair. But I hope someone at least tells the refs they can call it straight.
I wonder what it does for a big team to be counted out before they even take the floor? What happens when you tell the bad guys the fairy tell ending in advance? I don’t know what follows, but my team copes well with paranoia. So go ahead Belmont. Chuck your threes and and let’s see what happens.
Our man Bags with some flix from Tampa.
I usually write exclusively about the Yankees, either past or present, in this space. That’s because many of the readers have told me they prefer to read about the Yankees in “Observations From Cooperstown” and “Card Corner.” But there are times when I find it necessary to deviate from that plan. The loss of former major league slugger Don Mincher is one of those times.
Don died a week ago at the age of 73, just about six months after retiring as president of the Southern League. Though I never met him face to face and only remember his playing career from a few highlights, he meant a lot to me personally. Don was the first player I interviewed for the first book I wrote: A Baseball Dynasty: Charlie Finley’s Swingin’ A’s.
I had never done an interview for a book-length project, so I really had no idea what I was doing. If the phone interview had gone poorly, I might have felt discouraged to do any more. But Don Mincher wouldn’t let that happen. He was friendly, accommodating, informative, helpful, and funny. At the end of our extended conversation, he gave me some helpful hints. He told me which A’s to avoid interviewing, and even warned me about one guy who would likely ask me for money in exchange for the interview.
The interview with Mincher went so well that I said to myself, “I can do this.” I interviewed several other players on the way to putting together a book over which I take a certain amount of pride and a great deal of pleasure.
Don provided me with some real insights into the inner workings of the A’s in 1971-72. When Mincher heard that t he fiery Dick Williams would replace the laid-back McNamara, he knew that the culture on the ballclub would change dramatically. “Well, I knew one thing right away; there would be some confrontations. I knew that,” Mincher told me back in 1997. “I knew Dick Williams from playing against him, his reputation and what-have-you. And I knew there would be some confrontations that would take place, and I knew that Dick Williams would win ‘em all.”
Mincher realized that a constant swirl of turmoil would result from the heated interaction between the feisty Williams and some of the egocentric players on the A’s. “You could just feel it coming,” Mincher said, “and sure enough there was.” More importantly, Mincher sensed that with the hiring of Williams, the A’s were about to start winning a lot more games than they done in the late 1960s. “That was really the beginning of a great ballclub,” Mincher said declaratively, “when Dick Williams was signed to that contract.”
In addition to the heavy demands imposed by Williams, the 1972 season also marked the beginning of an era of ill feelings between some of the Oakland players. “I can remember a lot of animosity in that clubhouse between individual guys, and it became a little bit cliquish to some degree at that time,” said Mincher, one of the few A’s who didn’t have conflicts with his teammates. “It was amazing the guys that had trouble with each other just forgot about it when they went out on the field, and then picked it up after the game. It was amazing to do that.”
Mincher would be long retired by the time player and owner controversies fully overtook the team in 1973 and ’74. But the roots of dissent all go back to 1972.“Yeah, I can remember it beginning in ’72. Of course, I wasn’t there when it really got hectic, but I can imagine what happened, and I can imagine who was in the middle of it. It wasn’t any fistfights or brawls or anything like that [in ’72], but I remember the bickering, sure.”
The catalyst to much of the controversy could be found in the form of a future Yankee. “Reggie [Jackson], who is probably the most intelligent individual I ever played with,” Mincher recalled, “was always the center of the media attention, either good or bad. And he seemed to always be there. I can remember some bickering with other players and him. You know, Dave Duncan, who was Reggie’s good friend—they had some problems. But David was a very stern individual himself, just like he is now, really demanding a lot of the pitching staff and himself. When an outfielder caused a pitcher to get in trouble with an overthrow or an error or something like that, there could be some things said and some words exchanged in those situations. And I can remember some of those. Of course, my old roomy, Sal Bando, he wasn’t very shy about stepping up to the plate either as far as telling people exactly what he thought. And there would be some words back and forth.”
At times, the wars of words forced a likable, even-tempered player like Mincher to assume the role of peacemaker. “I did,” said Mincher, who usually preferred to stay in the background. “Of course, when you’re not playing regularly and you’re just doing your thing, you try to get along with the players, and just sit down and be quiet… I tried to do my part and console everybody. But really, with those kinds of mentalities, egos, and talent, they worked themselves out.”
Mincher said that the uncomfortable feelings created by such verbal outbursts never seemed to interfere with the team’s on-field playing ability. “These guys were great, great players, and they learned from most things, and while I was there we never had any fistfights or anything like that. And all of the confrontations [actually] led to good things, and they just played better, it seemed like, as they went along.”
Mincher was traded to the Senators in the middle of the 1971 season, but he returned to Oakland in another deal the following season, primarily as a pinch hitter. He achieved his most indelible highlight as a member of the A’s with his appearance in Game Four of the World Series. Called upon as a pinch hitter in the ninth inning with the A’s down a run, Mincher faced Reds relief ace Clay Carroll. With the count one-and-oh, Carroll threw a fastball over the middle of the plate. “I was lucky enough to be able to get a good pitch I could drive, down in the strike zone,” Mincher said, his memory working in overdrive. “I tried to get a ball that you can drive up the middle or pull in the hole to first base. Those were the things I really thought about, and I thought about on that day. The ball went directly over the second baseman’s head. If it had been on the ground, it’d been a double play.”
But it wasn’t. Mincher’s uppercut swing enabled him to lift the ball over the infield. “I remember it just like it was yesterday,” Mincher told me in 1997. “I got it in the right-center field gap, which probably should have been for a double, but I was cold and couldn’t run.” Mincher’s golf shot into the alley scored pinch-runner Allan Lewis with the tying run and sent Gene Tenace, representing the potential game-winning run, to third base.
“It’s the last hit I ever got,” Mincher said in recalling the key RBI single that tied the game and set the table for Angel Mangual’s game-winning single, “and certainly it’s the most vivid in my memory.” Mincher’s pinch-hit RBI helped the A’s win Game Five of the Reds, on their way to a stunning upset in the 1972 World Series. It was also marked the final at-bat of Mincher’s career; he retired after the season, rejecting an overture from Finley to become the team’s first DH in 1973.
Mincher’s career ended with Oakland, but there was much that transpired in his other major league stops. Drafted and signed by the original Washington Senators, he then moved with the franchise when it became the Minnesota Twins. As the starting first baseman, he played an important on the 1965 American League pennant winners, hitting a home run against Don Drysdale in a seven-game World Series loss to the Dodgers.
From there he went to the California Angels, where he put up a productive season before ending up on the receiving end of a Sam McDowell fastball early in 1968. The ball struck him squarely in the face; Mincher slumped to the ground, his face bleeding. Limited to 120 games and plagued by dizzy spells throughout the summer, Mincher muddled through one of his worst seasons. Concerned that Mincher might never be able to return to form, the Angels left him unprotected in the expansion draft. That’s how he ended up with the Seattle Pilots in 1969. He had a good year for a bad team, while becoming the only All-Star representative in the franchise’s one-year existence.
The Pilots moved to Milwaukee, but Mincher never made the trip. He was traded to Oakland for a package of catcher Phil Roof, outfielder Mike Hershberger and pitchers Lew Krausse and Ken Sanders. He then moved on as part of a trade package to Washington for Mike Epstein and Darold Knowles, moved with the Senators franchise to Texas, and then made his last pitstop in Oakland. By the time he called it a career, he had hit exactly 200 home runs, put up an OPS of better than .800 seven times, and accumulated nearly as many walks as strikeouts. He was a hitter with power and smarts, and there is always value in that kind of player.
Yet, Mincher’s story did not end there. Remaining in baseball, he made a smooth transition to the front office, eventually becoming the GM and then the owner of the Double-A Huntsville Stars. (It was while he was owner that I interviewed him for the book on the A’s, and began to understand why he was beloved in the Huntsville community.) From there, he was promoted to president of the Southern League. Along the way, he became a revered figure in Huntsville, the unofficial “Mr. Baseball” of the community. They loved him for his work ethic, his easy going personality, his willingness to talk to just about anybody.
I interviewed Don only once, but I miss him. I can only imagine how much the people of Huntsville, who knew Don Mincher very well, are missing him today.
Bruce Markusen writes “Cooperstown Confidential” for The Hardball Times.
The nature of sports coverage continues to change and this year more than ever we get almost instant updates from spring training. ESPN New York has a Yankee blog in the tradition of the Lo-Hud blog and of course there is MLB.TV and twitter and a host of fine Yankee sites. It is impressive all this information but I often feel turned in the other direction, wanting to know less and not more. I crave a sense of mystery and discovery, an illusion that I find spoiled by too much analysis.
I don’t have much interest in worrying about Ivan Nova after two spring training starts. On the other hand, I appreciate that this news is out there, just like I find comfort in the 24-hour pharmacy around the way. I may not visit but I’m glad to know it exists.
The MLB Network has exhibition games on all afternoon. Enjoy.
[Picture by Bags]
Our old pal Diane Firstman weighs in on Robin Ventura over at ESPN’s Sweet Spot blog. Don’t miss it.
The late Gary Carter never played a game for the Yankees, a fact that should be regretful for any Yankee fan who remembers the 1980s. If Carter had played even one season in the Bronx, the Yankees might just have won a World Series title that proved so elusive during that decade of frustration.
The winter of 1984-85 brought me some of the most difficult times of my life. My mother was dying from abdominal cancer, a horrible experience under any circumstances but particularly difficult for me as I was trying to muddle through a challenging sophomore year at Hamilton College. One of the few diversions that helped me forget about my mother’s terminally ill condition involved the winter meetings that December. Both New York teams made blockbuster trades at those meetings, the Mets acquiring Carter for a package of Hubie Brooks-plus, while the Yankees nabbed Rickey Henderson for a group of young players headlined by Jose Rijo. The news of those two trades, which happened within five days of one another, made that December and that January, when my mother finally passed, a little bit more bearable.
The Yankees ended up with a good team in 1985, a 97-win club that finished only two lengths behind an exceptional group of Blue Jays. Led by Billy Martin, who replaced Yogi Berra after a handful of games, the Yankees came within whiskers of matching the Blue Jays for the AL East title, even with little contribution from their starting catcher, Butch Wynegar. A two-time All-Star, Wynegar was well past his prime at the age of 29, and would later undergo treatment for debilitating depression. What would have happened if the Yankees had added Carter for the 1985 season? Carter, buttressed by a strong left-handed hitting backup in Ron Hassey, would have given the Yankees one of the missing links to an otherwise sterling lineup.
Sure, it would have been a lot to ask Yankee GM Clyde King to swing blockbuster deals for both Carter and Henderson in the same winter, but the Yankees had both the minor league resources and the major league talent to make it happen. They could have centered a package for Carter around Dan Pasqua, who at the time was a top-tier hitting prospect coveted by numerous teams. They could have included a young Doug Drabek (whom they would eventually trade in a regrettable deal for Rick Rhoden) and tossed in a young infielder from among a group of Rex Hudler, Bobby Meacham, and Andre Robertson.
Not only would have Carter solidified the chronically weak catching corps that plagued the franchise in the mid-1980s, but he also would have given the Yankees exactly the kind of rah-rah leader that would have perfectly complemented guide-by-example types in Don Mattingly and Dave Winfield. With Carter behind the plate, improving both a potent offense and perhaps coaxing more from a thin pitching staff, the 1985 Yankees could well have leapfrogged over the Blue Jays into the postseason. And then who knows what might have happened?
Of course, all of this is wishful thinking, and more than 25 years after the fact. Perhaps the Expos would have preferred an established infielder like Brooks, who had the ability to play both shortstop and third base while hitting with game-changing power. Maybe the Expos foresaw that Pasqua would fall well short of the stardom forecast for him. But the idea of Carter-as-a-Yankee was just one of the thoughts that has gone through my mind in the aftermath of his premature death at the age of 57.
I had the privilege of meeting Carter several times; he never failed to deliver the goods with his friendly nature, boyish enthusiasm, and sincere regard for the concerns of others.
Back in 2003, I interviewed Carter at the Waldorf Astoria, exactly one day after he had been elected to the Hall of Fame. Bruce Brodersen, a friend of mine who heads up the Hall of Fame’s multimedia department, arranged and oversaw the interview. Bruce, a diehard Mets fan like few others, immediately took notice of Carter’s 1986 World Series ring. Noticing the interest, Carter told Bruce that he could wear the ring during the duration of our 20-minute interview. I cannot imagine many players, Hall of Fame or otherwise, offering to let a perfect stranger wear a cherished world championship ring. But that was Carter.
Gary Carter as a Yankee? It’s nothing more than a dream. But imagine if it had happened. Any Yankee fan who cares about integrity, character, and winning would have been proud to watch the man known as “Kid” wear the pinstripes.
***
In contrast to yours truly, Yankee hitting coach Kevin Long is legitimately excited about the addition of free agent Raul Ibanez, whom he calls an “RBI machine.” For the Yankees’ sake, I hope Long is right; batting in the lower third of the Yankee order, Ibanez figures to have plenty of RBI opportunities batting behind the likes of Alex Rodriguez, Mark Teixeira, and Nick Swisher.
Of course, while Long drools over the RBI possibilities, he doesn’t mention Ibanez’ relative lack of power in 2011 (as evidenced by a slugging percentage below .450) and an inability to draw walks or to reach base in any kind of consistent manner. These could be concerns for the Yankees, whose collective offense will be one year older and will have to hope for bounce back seasons from A-Rod and Tex. At the very least, the Yankees will have a capable offense in 2012, but will they have a dominant one? If they don’t, Ibanez will be exposed as a less-than-effective DH.
Having said all of that, I’ll be rooting for Ibanez. He visited Cooperstown last summer, accompanying his son during his week-long participation in the Cooperstown Dreams Park. According to my sources, Ibanez made a good impression with his friendly and receptive manner. That jives with what baseball people have said all along, that Ibanez is one of the game’s good guys, a man of character and a powerful presence in any clubhouse.
So this is no Elijah Dukes here. It will be easy, if somewhat frustrating, to root for Raul Ibanez. I just hope that Joe Girardi uses Ibanez with caution. He cannot hit left-handers anymore, so his at-bats against southpaws should be restricted as much as possible. Furthermore, Ibanez needs to be kept out of the outfield. A brutal defender with little arm, Ibanez should only the play the outfield if the game is a blowout–or if the Yankees simply run out of outfielders. If Girardi follows this plan, he can minimize the damage that Ibanez can do, and allow his other role players to pick up the slack.
[Picture Credit: Aya Francisco]
Bruce Markusen writes “Cooperstown Confidential” for The Hardball Times.
If the piss ain’t shipped, you must acquit.
If you can’t see the pee, he must walk free.
If FedEx is closed, your case is hosed.
If the pee is refrigerated, he must be exonerated.
What you got…?
