Yanks in Toronto for a long weekend.  Cliff has the preview.

The Bombers have reportedly signed J.C. Romero to a minor league deal. Greg Golson was called up from Triple A.

Derek Jeter SS
Curtis Granderson CF
Mark Teixeira 1B
Robinson Cano 2B
Nick Swisher RF
Russell Martin C
Andruw Jones DH
Eduardo Nunez 3B
Brett Gardner LF

Never mind the spiel:

Let’s Go Yank-ees.

[Picture by Bags]

The first half of the Yankee season has been overshadowed by Derek Jeter and his boatload of hits. Rightly so. As much fun as it is to watch the Yanks play well and win 60% of their games, that happens almost every year. Celebrating 3000 is not only appropriate, it’s necessary. For me, anyway. It helps realign my fandom to the primal things that sustain the relationship.

However, apart from Jeter’s heroic game on Saturday, he’s had little to do with the wins and losses thus far. For that, we have to thank a host of usual contributors including CC Sabathia, Mariano Rivera, Alex Rodriguez, Robinson Cano, Curtis Granderson and Mark Teixeira. But their production was banked on from the day Texas ended their 2010 season. The door to such lofty success hinged on Freddy Garcia, Bartolo Colon and Ivan Nova.

And therefore, the first half hinged on Brian Cashman. The moment the Cliff Lee trade  fell through last July, I openly fretted about the 2011 starting rotation. But the rotation did not implode; it thrived. I don’t think Cashman expected anywhere near this level of performance, but he was smart enough to know that there was little difference between what these guys could do and what was available for big money after Cliff Lee chose Philadelphia. I’d still love to have Dan Haren in the rotation, but he now represents a pleasant upgrade rather than a savior.

And though he gets little attention in the press and is often the first to go when things turn sour, I think the pitching coach must have something to do with a success on this scale. Whether it’s creating a comfortable environment where pitchers can harness confidence and learn from mistakes or isolating successful pitches and honing them into weapons, I bet Larry Rothschild has been an asset.

But since their work is mostly behind the scenes, let’s focus on the guys holding the the ball.

Colon’s restructured arm and waves of flesh propel a lively fastball with impeccable accuracy. He’s got the best strikeout-to-walk ratio on the team outside of Mariano Rivera. And when he’s on, he can churn through innings like platters of ribs. Just give him a bib and don’t put your hands near his mouth.

It defies all expectations considering where he was before this season. And looking at him just makes it harder to believe. But watching him throw, all doubt is squashed by the harsh reality of the four-seamer and the horizontal shenanigans of the two-seamer.

Freddy Garcia has a different story. Cashman also found him on the scrap heap, but he doesn’t have the new arm, the big belly, nor the gaudy stats. He’s just kept the ball in the park and the runs off the board. His fastball might make him a number two starter on a high-school team with aspirations, but his change-up and breaking stuff float in at those tricky hitting speeds. Like Mike Mussina in his final year.

While Colon throws his heaters over 80% of the time, Garcia only shows his every fourth pitch or so. The other three are dipping, darting and diving as they inch towards the plate. Perhaps Rothschild deserves credit for refining their pitch selection, but these guys are veterans and I’m sure they can feel what’s working for them.

There are serious doubts about both of these guys as we look ahead. Colon has already had a trip to the DL and doesn’t look like he’s skipping any second breakfasts. Despite Garcia’s trickery, he’s not striking out enough guys to keep that ERA looking so spiffy. But they’ve earned a very long leash in the second half. And should either of them falter badly, well there’s a good young arm in AAA named Ivan Nova.

Ivan Nova looked excellent almost every time he pitched in 2010. But he also looked awful almost every time he pitched in 2010. The second time through the order, he could no longer get anybody out. The first few games of 2011 held the same pattern. But Cashman, Girardi and Rothschild were very patient. Where a pessimist would see disaster waiting to happen, they believed in his stuff and start by start, the results improved.

He resembles Chien-Ming Wang to me, and they have their sinkers and their ERAs in common. There are differences between the two, but like Van Gogh and Gauguin, their work shares the same foundation. They paint with hard sinkers, sometimes touching the mid-90s, grazing bat-barrel-bottoms and inducing grounders. Nova throws a curve often enough to be the stand out difference between the two. He strikes out and walks one more hitter per nine than Wang did, and considering the amount of balls in play, that extra base-runner is probably not a tradeoff that benefits Nova.

Chien-Ming Wang was the Yankee ace for two playoff years. I’m comparing him to the sixth starter on the current squad.

The Yankees are 27-16 in the 43 games started by these three pitchers. That edge has them neck and neck with an excellent Boston squad and securely ahead of the game Rays. And if you tried to tell me this might happen in the winter on an adjacent barstool, I would have laughed in your face or cried in my beer.

Pitch FX data from FanGraphs

Living at the end of the line alters your relationship with the subway. You rely on it’s presence and emptiness in ways that would not be appropriate in the middle of the city. There is also a level of accumulated filth at the end of the line that probably does not apply there either.

On weekday mornings, after the train empties out, somebody takes to the train with a mop and bucket and slathers chlorine on the floors. The odor is stiff and intense and often, but not always, worse than the filth. At rush hour, the trains are moving in and out too quickly for all of the cars to receive this treatment. So you can weave through the waiting train searching for a car that doesn’t overwhelm you one way or the other.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Photo Credit: Michael Heiman/Getty Images]

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

This has not been a good year for baseball, at least from an historical standpoint. Hall of Famers Harmon Killebrew and Duke Snider have died. Notable players like Jim Northrup and Paul Splittorff have also left us. Gary Carter is battling an aggressive form of brain cancer. And now we have lost one of the most brilliant managerial minds of the expansion era, the great Dick Williams, who died on Thursday at the age of 82.

Dick Williams led three different franchises to the World Series. He might have led a fourth, the New York Yankees, if only Charlie Finley had been a more reasonable man.

Fed up with Finley’s endless meddling and his detestable “firing” of Mike Andrews during the 1973 World Series, Williams announced that he was stepping down as Oakland’s managers only moments after the A’s beat the Mets in the World Series. A few days later, Williams said he would consider any offers from other major league teams, but he clearly had one club in mind. “Sure I’d love to be with the Yankees,” Williams told famed sportswriter Red Foley. “Anyone who says he wouldn’t is crazy.”

As Williams discussed his resignation during the A’s’ victory celebration, Charlie Finley told his manager that he wished he would return. Speaking on national television, Finley added that he would not stand in Williams’ way should he not change his mind about returning to Oakland.

Two days later, Finley decided to change his mind regarding Williams’ future. Oakland farm director John Claiborne had suggested to Finley that he exact some form of compensation in exchange for Williams’ services, since Williams was still officially under contract to the A‘s. Any major league team wishing to hire Williams as manager would have to compensate the A’s—with players and/or cash, but preferably players. When George Steinbrenner asked Finley for permission to contact Williams, he received a blunt response. “Absolutely not,” Finley told the Associated Press. “They [the Yankees] seemed stunned and wanted to know why.” Finley explained that he had recently given Williams a two-year contract extension. If the Yankees did not properly compensate the A’s, “there will be court action,” Finley vowed.

Though Finley was technically correct, Williams felt that Finley’s failure to live up to his initial vow was the larger issue. Williams expressed surprise at Finley’s turnabout in an interview with The Sporting News. “It’s not like Mr. Finley to go back on his word,” said Williams, his words dripping with sarcasm. “But this is an about-face.” In subsequent interviews, Williams went further, stopping just short of directly calling his former boss a liar. “Charlie says one thing and does another.”

Finley responded to Williams’ claims by trying to clarify his initial remarks during the A’s’ post-game celebration. When he said he would not “stand in the way,” he was referring to Williams’ options in the business world, not in the baseball community. Finley said he never intended to allow Williams to walk off to another managerial job, without some sort of compensation coming his way. This was Finley at his best–or his worst, depending on your perspective–playing semantic gymnastics in an effort to stick it to Williams and the Yankees.

Although Finley also claimed that he preferred Williams return as his manager in Oakland, he really did not. In fact, he had already sent out feelers to the Orioles about the availability of their manager, Earl Weaver, during the World Series. Weaver working for Finley, now that would have been interesting. Not surprisingly, Orioles general manager Frank Cashen refused to give Finley permission to talk to Weaver.

Contract legalities prevented the Yankees, or any other team, from negotiating with Williams. Yet, the Yankees made it clear they wanted Williams. Prior to the winter meetings in Houston, the Yankees finally agreed to compensate Finley, offering veteran second baseman Horace Clarke. Finley said no to Clarke, a fair hitter, speedy runner, and a mediocre fielder, but counter-offered by asking for one of three other players: Thurman Munson, Bobby Murcer, or Mel Stottlemyre. In other words, Finley wanted one of the three best players on the New York roster, while the Yankees were offering about their 15th best player.

In stage two of negotiations, Finley met with Yankee general manager Gabe Paul at the winter meetings. Finley backed off on his request for established stars like Munson, Murcer, or Stottlemyre. Instead, he asked for two of the Yankees’ best minor league prospects: first baseman-outfielder Otto Velez and left-handed pitcher Scott McGregor. “Both?” an incredulous Gabe Paul exclaimed to Finley, according to a story by Dick Young of the New York Daily News. “You can’t have either.”

Finley talked further with Paul, asking for either one of the two, Velez or McGregor, plus a sum of cash. Finley then offered to eliminate the cash part of his request, but wanted the Yankees to include one of the following lower-level prospects—outfielders Kerry Dineen and Terry Whitfield, first baseman John Shupe, or third baseman Steve Coulson—along with either McGregor or Velez. Paul’s response was the same as before—no deal. The two sides had reached a stalemate, ending their meeting in Houston.

Finley’s stubborn posture on ample compensation left Williams furious and frustrated. The former A’s’ manager told reporters that he was considering filing a lawsuit against Finley on the grounds that his former employer was running interference on his legitimate efforts to find new work. Williams also mentioned his disappointment with the American League’s failure to intervene in the matter. Why didn’t league president Joe Cronin step in and determine which players the Yankees should surrender to the A’s in a trade for Williams?

“The problem is between New York and Oakland,” claimed a neutral Cronin in an interview with The Sporting News. Perhaps Cronin wanted to steer away from any involvement in the case as he prepared for his own retirement from the American League office.

Williams wanted the Yankees, the Yankees wanted him, Cronin wanted no part of the dispute, and Finley insisted that he wanted Williams to continue managing the A’s. Since Williams still had a signed contract with the A’s for the 1974 season, Finley reasoned, he still considered Williams his manager. In fact, he continued mailing Williams paychecks on the first and 15th day of each month through the end of the calendar year. Williams later revealed that he had received the checks on a timely basis from Finley, but had neglected to cash any of them after his resignation. Williams did not want to feel beholden to Finley, at least not in any financial way.

On December 13, the Yankees, exasperated in their negotiations with Finley and with Cronin’s refusal to intercede, decided to force the issue by making a bold move that was typical Steinbrenner. The Boss announced that he had reached a contractual agreement with Williams to manage in the Bronx. General manager Gabe Paul introduced Williams to the media at a Yankee Stadium press conference. Williams donned a Yankee cap and uniform jersey and smiled widely for reporters. Photographs of Williams wearing Yankee paraphernalia would eventually become collector’s items.

The Yankees’ press conference unveiling Williams infuriated Finley. He placed an immediate protest with Cronin, who was now forced to make a decision. Finley wasted little time in expressing his contempt for the Yankees, who had essentially tried to steal one of his contracted employees. “What if I tried to sign Bobby Murcer?” Finley told a reporter. “Wouldn’t the Yankees be furious with me for trying to sign one of their best players, one who was already under contract to New York?”

On December 20, just one week after the Yankees had signed Williams, Cronin ruled that Finley still held rights to the veteran manager. Without Finley’s approval, the Yankees would not be allowed to employ Williams as their manager in 1974. Given the letter of the law, Finley was clearly in the right–and the Yankees had no argument.

“Dick Williams was my manager yesterday, he’s my manager today, and he’ll be my manager tomorrow,” Finley emphatically told the New York Daily News. He now refused to even negotiate the compensation issue with the hated Yankees. After several last-ditch legal efforts to secure Williams, the Yankees finally surrendered in their pursuit of the World Championship manager. On January 3, 1974, the Yankees introduced former Pittsburgh Pirates skipper Bill Virdon as their new manager. He would remain on the job until midway through the 1975 season, when Billy Martin came on to the scene.

If Williams had been allowed to manage the Yankees, it would have been interesting to observe the managerial machinations. A far more accomplished skipper than Virdon, Williams might have lasted until the 1976 season, when the Yankees won the American League pennant. Though known as a disciplinarian and general hardass, Williams had a better grasp on his personal life than Martin, and might have avoided the kind of behavior that would have given The Boss a reason to fire him. Who knows, Dick Williams might have been the man to lead the Yankees to their two world championships of the late 1970s.

As it turned out, Williams would eventually join the Yankees as a front office advisor, a position that kept him safe from Steinbrenner’s second guesses. He also wouldn’t need those extra championships to make the Hall of Fame. The Hall’s Veterans’ Committee elected Williams to the Cooperstown shrine in 2008, giving him nearly three years to bask in the glory of the game’s highest achievement.

Williams deserves his spot in the Hall of Fame. On a personal note, I had the privilege to meet him and interview him several times, and always came away impressed with his amiable nature, his sense of humor, and his love of the Yankee organization. But part of me still wishes that Dick Williams would have had one shot working the Yankee dugout, right under the thumb of The Boss.

Here are two excellent reasons not to arrive late to the ballpark when a beloved player is chasing a milestone. First, you may miss his only hit of the game. Second, you may miss the announcement of the defensive alignments and spend the entire game yelling at the opposing thirdbaseman by the wrong name.

But my companion to last night’s game got snarled on the 6:15 NJ Transit train and delayed our departure from Penn Station by 45 minutes. We arrived as Derek Jeter advanced to third on Curtis Granderson’s ground out. The buzz over hit 2998, a deep liner to left-center which Jeter hustled into a double, was still ringing as we watched the Yankees squander a run-scoring, game-tying opportunity .

We were bummed, but saw the replay a dozen times. So we were more grateful that the remainder of the game would be drenched in possibility than bummed we missed the hit. The Yankees threatened to tie the game again in the second with one-out hits by Posada and Martin, but whereas Alex struck out in the first, Gardner fouled out in the second to miss the chance.

Jeter got his second at bat in the second and topped it weakly to the thridbaseman. This is the defining contact of Jeter’s last season and a half. The barely grazed topper to third. And then I am always surprised how not-close the play is at firstbase. Still two at bats in two innings was exactly what the doctor ordered. I said, “As long as the Yankees don’t collapse offensively, Jeter is going to get six at bats and they’re score enough to win.”

Then they collapsed offensively. Jeff Niemann was masterful. The only Yankee looking comfortable at the plate was Robinson Cano. He looked like a varsity player suiting up with the freshman. His swing was sweet and pure last night, lacing the ball four times and accounting for the Yankees only run with a long homer to right.

The Rays were all over Bartolo Colon from the start. In the games I’ve seen Colon pitch, he had very good control. Tonight, his strike to ball ratio was terrible, only 59 of 92 pitches were strikes, and he struggled through almost every inning. Ben Zobrist would have gone 20-20 if they just kept sending him up there – he was locked in on Colon like Luke locked on the exhaust port. His quest for the cycle was disturbed only by two walks. It made for a nice duel of rival secondbasemen.

By the time Jeter batted for the third time in the fifth, the Yankees were down 5-0 and the road back seemed difficult to fathom. But the crowd was clearly more concerned with Jeter than with the game itself, and though their recent skid has cost them first place to the Red Sox again, maybe that’s appropriate. It was the only game I’ve ever attended where there was something else besides the outcome on everybody’s agenda. I’ve been to plenty of games where nobody cares about anything including the outcome, but this something else was an interesting vibe.

Jeter rolled one down the line and right off the bat, it looked like a hit just past the thirdbase bag. But the thridbaseman was well positioned and made a nifty stop and a strong throw and it wasn’t close. It was nice hitting by Jeter, who made something useful out of a jam-shot, pulling his hands in quickly. But when a righty gets jammed, it costs him a step or two coming out of the box and hence Jeter was nowhere near the bag when throw nailed him.

I was impressed by the play and began from that point on, extolling the defensive prowess of Evan Longoria for pretty much the rest of the game. The thirdbaseman made eight plays in total, so I had plenty of chances to talk about him, to debate the selection of the all-star thirdbaseman this season, and to predict the course of his career. Unfortunately, Sean Rodriguez was playing thirdbase last night and the upper deck in Yankee Stadium is far enough away, and my glasses could stand an updated prescription. It could have been Ken Keltner out there for all I know.

I was very embarrassed.

Nobody in the stands corrected me, though surely they heard my mistake as I made it repeatedly. I think I would have preferred to be corrected rather than to discover it on my own. So if you’re in the stands and you here some blathering idiot saying something like that and you’re wondering whether or not to correct them, here is my suggestion. Look at his hands and feet. If you do not see beer in hand, and you do not see empty beer cups at feet, go ahead and point him in the right direction. I still would have blushed, but not as deeply.

Jeter came to bat twice more and tried his best. But he grounded out routinely to shortstop in the seventh and the crowd let out a huge sigh of disappointment. Barring something crazy, there would be no 3000 this night. Kyle Farnsworth pitched the ninth, and the Yankees brought Derek Jeter to the on-deck circle. Farnsworth looked very hard to hit, and he struck out Gardner to seemingly end the game, but the slider got loose and Jeter got to bat.

The remaining fans came to attention. If Jeter got 2999, it would bring Granderson to the plate as the tying run. And for some reason, a game-tying homerun just seemed like a sure thing. And then extra innings! And just like that, 3000 was alive again. Jeter battled Farnsworth and fouled off several tough pitches. He expanded the strike zone as well, for which I guess I can’t blame him. Jeter lost and hit one of those weak-ass toppers to third. At this point thirdbasemen from Rodriguez to Longoria to Keltner have to be salivating over this play.

The crowd jumped up, imagining younger legs on a younger player. In 1999, this was a hit. In 2006, this was a hit. In 2011, it wasn’t that close.

The Rays won 5-1. The Yanks are looking up at the Red Sox and the winning streak which they blew versus the Mets seems like a distant memory.

Mr. Jeter approaches a milestone as thunderstorms loom over the Bronx.

The Rays are in town for a four-game series that will end the first half of the season.

Cliff has the preview.

1. Jeter SS
2. Granderson CF
3. Teixeira 1B
4. Rodriguez 3B
5. Cano 2B
6. Swisher RF
7. Posada DH
8. Martin C
9. Gardner LF

Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Photo Credit: Liviu Burlea]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am a New Yorker and as such I prefer to walk wherever I’m going. You know, if it’s possible. I had a dinner last night on 48th St and 2nd Ave. I had to run an errand at Columbus Circle first. I hoofed it. No other method of transportation occurred to me, though I’m sure there were smart ways to use crosstown buses to make it a little easier and a little cooler. I enjoy walking.

I understand that Los Angeles and the surrounding beaches and sprawl is not built for walking. Still, when I went to the Dodger game on June 26th, my older brother Chris and I figured we’d put that notion to the test. We drove to the game very early, parked the car and walked out of the stadium towards Phillippe the Original.

It seemed very straightforward, the only tricky part was crossing the 110. The walking map / GPS on my phone had it pegged as a 25 minute walk. The phone is lucky it was not smashed on the sidewalk.

Maybe if you were one of the Elves from Lord of The Rings, it would have been a 25 minute walk. But my family moves at Dwarf or Hobbit-speed, especially in the heat.

Did I forget to mention my wife was pushing a double stroller? Disaster. You can imagine that an area not expecting pedestrians would skimp on sidewalks. There’s maybe 50 feet of sidewalk around Dodger Stadium that can accomodate the girth of the doublewide stroller. The road ahead was so treacherous that we had to send a scout 100 yards in advance in order to map where we could walk.

The sandwich at Phillippes is good, and probably deserves a Tasters Cherce, but the lines go on and on and noboby eles has planned to walk back – ever. So as we ate, the spectre of the return journey hung  above us.

But as with any disaster, it’s all about the people you’re with and how they react. We couldn’t stop laughing at ourselves, for thinking like New Yorkers and getting ourselves in this mess. My wife put a gob of their mustard on her sandwich before realizing how hot it was. We cracked up again. We missed the first pitch, and the first inning, but we caught the other eight and didn’t leave early.

Good thing, because the Dodgers won in a walkoff. We even hung around so the kids could run the bases. As we were leaving, my older son said, “When I grow up, I’m going to play baseball like those guys.” I think we were the last non-employees to leave Dodger Stadium. Great day and a walk I’ll probably never forget.

Map Courtesy of Bob Timmermann @ The Baseball Toaster

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let’s Go Yankees! Let’s Go Jeter!

[Photo Credit: Tony Dejak/AP]

Four more for DJ, oh, and the return of Phil Hughes.

Derek Jeter SS
Curtis Granderson CF
Mark Teixeira 1B
Alex Rodriguez 3B
Robinson Cano 2B
Nick Swisher RF
Jorge Posada DH
Russell Martin C
Brett Gardner LF

Never mind getting sentimental:

Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Picture by Bags]

There are several obstacles cluttering unfettered enjoyment of Derek Jeter’s quest for his 3000th hit. The only legitimate one is Derek’s poor statistical season thus far. But that’s easily cancelled out by the Yankees’ overall excellence. The rest are manufactured by either a burgeoning wave of critics feeling the need to diminish the player, question his contract and place in the batting order, or by a thundering chorus of fanboys and girls drooling over every dribbler. Count me with the latter I suppose, if I have to choose sides.

But screw all of that. Just because there is a lot of noise and nonsense surrounding the hit doesn’t mean we can’t find a way to relish the moment on our own terms. For me that means several hours on baseball-reference.com sifting through the leader boards. One of the things you hear about Jeter’s milestone is that it’s surprising that no other Yankee has ever accomplished the feat. And the first few times I heard that, I mindlessly agreed, “Yeah, where’s the Yanks’ 3000 hit guy?”

But upon further review, it’s not that common, or easy, for a franchise to be able to “claim” a 3000th hit. There are 27 players with 3000 hits. Only 14 of them have acquired hits one through 3000 for their original team. And if you want to ease the requirements on the claim to getting your 3000th hit on the same team for which you accumulated the most hits, we can add another five. In all, only 15 franchises can claim a 300oth hit for their ledgers in this way. And that includes franchises like the Giants and the Braves that moved around during their players’ quests (Mays and Aaron).

Four franchises are lucky enough to have two. The Cards (Musial and Brock), the Tigers (Kaline and Cobb), the Pirates (Wagner and Clemente) and Cleveland (Speaker and Lajoie). Only Detroit has two pure claims as both Cobb and Kaline went wire to wire in the Motor City. The Yankees of course did have three players eventually get 3000 hits, but none of Winfield, Henderson nor Boggs achieved the milestone while Yankees. At least Winfield got more hits in a New York uniform than in any others, but that’s not enough to stake any kind of claim.

And obviously, it’s not just that Yankee fans are whining about not getting a fair distribution of the 3000 club. We’re surprised they’ve had such great players, among the best ever, and even still don’t have a clear 3000th hit. But among those titans of the game, they’ve never had the right mixture of health, peace, and free-swinging needed to amass such a huge total.

When Jeter gets number 3000, he’ll be only the 15th player to get his first 3000 hits with the same club. The Yankees are used to draping themselves in banners and tripping over trophies, and yes this has eluded their clutches thus far, but it’s not as surprising as it might seem. It’s really special, and I didn’t appreciate it fully until now.

We can’t ignore the fact Jeter is in the middle of a down year, but does anybody else remember so much scrutiny over other recent fading stars and their victory laps? Craig Biggio hung around until he was 40 and had the worst year of his career. But he came up short, so he returned at 41, had an even more dreadful year before ringing the bell. Winfield was crumbling in the worst season of his career (up to that point) at 41 when he got the big hit. Cal Ripken enjoyed an outlier renaissance the year before his 3000th, but he was crap during and all around the milestone.

All I remember from any of these marches towards history was celebration and adulation. Jeter deserves the same – especially playing for a first place team.

So in that spirit, I tried to come up with a memory of one specific hit. With the help of baseball-reference, this could have been a week-long tumble into the inter-hole. But he’s at 2996 now, so time’s a-wasting.

I was away at college when Jeter became a Yankee. I had come back to the team in earnest in 1993 when they retired Reggie’s number. But I had left New York the following year, so when the Yankees approached the 1996 division crown, I was watching from afar. I knew Derek Jeter was a promising rookie and had hopes, like everybody else, that he’d stick around for a long time and prove to be a good player. But I had no sense of him yet.

College was down in Baltimore’s television market, and I tuned in when the Yanks squared off against the second-place Orioles on September 18th. The Orioles were three games back and this was the last chance they had to catch the Yankees for the division crown. The Orioles led 2-1 in the late innings. Derek Jeter led off the bottom of the eighth and I thought, I really want him to get a hit here, and he lined one to right. The Yanks did not score though.

Bernie tied it in the ninth. Mariano held the O’s scoreless and Derek Jeter led off again in the tenth. I thought, I really want him to get a hit here, but that’s not fair to this rookie. He already came through in the eighth and this is a lot of pressure and all. But Jeter got the hit and scored the run. The Yanks won the game, the division and the series. As the ball squirted between short and third and into left field, I remember it occurring to me, “Maybe the Yanks have found something special here. Maybe this is a guy who is going to come up big when they need it most.”

He didn’t always come through, of course, but he did often enough to make it feel safe to hope for it. Derek Jeter has never been my favorite player. But between Jeter and Mariano, they make the Yankees seem like one epic roster that has stretched from 1995 to today. They are the Yankees of my young adulthood. They bridged the end of my schoolboy playing career to start of my family.

Three thousand is a lot of hits. I am glad I saw so many of them.

[Photo Credit: USA Today]

I was in Los Angeles last week. Stayed in Hermosa Beach near the PCH. Driving everywhere was hard to get used to, but satisfying in a way. On one of those drives past a strip of indistinguishable donut and taco jernts, I spied CC Donuts. The kids were asleep in the back and otherwise unable to operate cameras, the wife was busy with something or another and I had a choice: whip out the phone and snap a pic while doing 45 in slightly dense traffic or let it go and deprive the Banter readers of the perfect picture for a CC shutdown start. I got that phone in my hands and started to look down away from the road, but then I thought better of it. I put the phone back down and watched the sign trickle past my peripheral vision. Meant to go back but never did.

So of course CC would be balls-out awesome in Cleveland tonight as he blitzed the Indians for seven shutout innings. His fastball was hard and always found uncomfortable locations. And his breaking stuff was filthy. David Cone mentioned in the booth that his sliders that were strikes started out looking like balls and the balls started out looking like strikes. It was a great observation, and it was all set up by the fear of the fastball. It made the hitters twitch early to protect against the heat and left them vulnerable for the slop. How vulnerable? Eleven whiffs, ten swinging. The Indians managed to get two runners on base three times, so CC responded by striking out the side in all three of those innings. That’s not shutting the door; that’s slamming it and breaking all their fingers.

The lineup went nuts tonight, making up for a two-game brown-out. Derek Jeter got two hits in his first two times at bat – a dribbler and a booming double. I became very excited because I am going to the game on Thursday and a big night tonight would make that game very interesting. Jeter got four more shots at making Thursday THE day, but came up empty. I figure he needs at least two more hits tomorrow to give me a chance in Hell.

Curtis Granderson continues his assault on my senses as he lined one homer and launched another and was pretty much running around the bases every time I looked up. He scored three times, the other Yankees scored six other times and strolled into the bottom of the ninth up 9-0. The Indians got a pair of garbage-time goals to make the final score 9-2.

CC Sabathia isn’t on the All Star team, and I guess I don’t really care and I know he wouldn’t pitch anyway. But if he’s not an All Star, what’s the point of the thing? Sure, maybe six other pitchers might have had slightly better starts to 2011, but ask the NL hitters if they’re happy or sad they don’t have to face him. I’d take Verlander, Beckett, Weaver, and CC and be pretty sure I got the best pitchers in the league. Oh well, maybe the Yankees can use his absence from the 2011 All Star team in their negotiations with him when he opts out of his contract. Maybe they can knock five bucks off the billions they’re going to pay him.

The countdown to 3,000 hits resumed Monday night in Cleveland, and Derek Jeter went 0-for-4. What’s being branded as “DJ3K” is occurring now in greater earnest than it did before Jeter pulled up lame with a strained calf and landed on the disabled list on June 13. He’ll be the first Yankee to reach the milestone, and of all the great moments in his career, this may be the singular event that speaks to his consistency and longevity. He certainly didn’t “hang on” in an attempt to achieve this personal benchmark.

And he has handled the march to inevitability in a way that has stayed true to his professional mantra: as vanilla as possible.

The interesting thing about Jeter’s career is that as integral as he has been to the team’s success, in games when he’s reached personal milestones, the team lost. And in games where “Jeter was being Jeter,” giving maximum effort and playing his customary brand of instinctive baseball, and getting hurt in the process, they won.

I covered the game on May 26, 2006, against the Kansas City Royals at Yankee Stadium when he got his 2,000th hit. He reached first base on an infield nubber that was misplayed. According to multiple newspaper reports, even Jeter’s mother thought it was an error. The decision can’t be called into question now. The Yankees lost the game. Afterward, he gave his typical “It’s a nice accomplishment, we lost, I don’t care about stats” speech. Ho-hum.

The Yankees also lost the game against the Baltimore Orioles when he broke Lou Gehrig’s team record for hits. At least No. 2,722 was a no-doubter. Same speech. Yawn.

The two moments I immediately think of when I’m asked about Derek Jeter occurred in games the Yankees won.

1) Opening Day 2003, in Toronto. The Ken Huckaby collision. It wasn’t a dirty play, it was incidental contact. With one out and the Blue Jays employing an extreme shift with Jason Giambi at the plate, Jeter, always a great base runner, tried to catch the Jays napping. The description of the play, from eNotes:

Giambi hit a soft grounder to the pitcher, Roy Halladay, who threw to first baseman Carlos Delgado for an out. Jeter, seeing Toronto out of position, rounded second and ran to third. Huckaby ran up the line to cover third and fielded Delgado’s throw. Jeter dived headfirst into the bag, while Huckaby attempted to catch the baseball and block Jeter from reaching third. In do so, Huckaby fell onto Jeter; his shin guard driving into his shoulder.

The Yankees won the game and proceeded to start 20-5. In all, they went 26-11 without him, and went 3-11 in their first 14 games upon his return.

2) July 1, 2004, at Yankee Stadium, against the Red Sox. Depending on your perspective, it’s the “game where Jeter broke his face” after going head over heels into the stands to catch a Trot Nixon pop-up in the top of the 12th inning. The Yankees won that game also. The image of Jeter walking off the field, clutching his lip and his face swollen, is one that endures. I covered that game, too. It’s the greatest regular season game I’ve ever seen. We’re not allowed to root in the press box, and in particular, the YES booth, where I was situated. Those of us in the booth may not have been rooting, but we did not suppress our emotions and baseball fandom in that moment.

So where does that leave us now? The Yankees went 14-4 without him and won seven of eight prior to Jeter’s return. They’ve built a lead over the Red Sox and are in the hunt for the best record in baseball with the Phillies. They’ve adjusted to life without Jeter and the distraction of the four-digit elephant in the dugout. Is the current leg of the pursuit and his place in the lineup more of a distraction than an asset? If so, it’ll be consistent with the way these moments have gone throughout Derek Jeter’s career.

[Photo Credit: N.Y. Daily News]

Baseball all day. Hope everyone has some good eats, stays cool (ah, dreams of a pool or a lake), and most importantly, stays safe.

The Captain is back. Cliff’s got the preview.

Here’s the line-up:

Derek Jeter SS
Curtis Granderson CF
Mark Teixeira 1B
Alex Rodriguez 3B
Robinson Cano 2B
Nick Swisher RF
Jorge Posada DH
Russell Martin C
Brett Gardner LF

Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Picture via the cool ass site, Swampy]

The Subway Serious starts again tonight with a little more juice than usual because both teams are playing well. The Yanks want to avoid getting swept and winning two-of-three would be great, of course.

The boys at SNY break it down:

And Cliff has the preview over at PB:

Since starting the season 5-13, the Mets have gone 36-27 (.571), a winning percentage that, over the full season, would put them in first place in the Central and Western divisions of either league and in second-place in either Wild Card race. Prior to running into Justin Verlander Thursday afternoon, the Mets had won six of their last seven, four of those coming against first-place American League teams, and in the four games prior to facing Verlander they scored 52 runs (an average of 13 per game).

So the Mets, despite recent appearances, are no laughing matter. Jose Reyes is having an MVP-quality season. Carlos Beltran has come all the way back, at least at the plate. Angel Pagan has hit .325/.398/.444 since coming off the disabled list in late May. Ronny Paulino has put up similar numbers in wrestling the catching job away from sophomore Josh Thole. Jason Bay has hit .327/.389/.490 over the last two weeks and has become a Russell Martin-like stealth threat on the bases having stolen eight bases in nine attempts this season, including four in as many tries in those last two weeks. As you’ll see below, the three starting pitchers the Yankees will face in this series, Jonathan Niese, Dillon Gee, and R.A. Dickey, have all been pitching well of late.

Never mind the hub-bub:

Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Photo Credit: Joseph O. Holmes]

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

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

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

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

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

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

When I was a boy the Milwaukee Brewers were Gorman Thomas and Ben Oglivie, Robin Yount and Jim Ganter, Sixto Lezcano and Paul Molitor. It still seems odd to me that they’re a National League team, but I suppose there are fans a generation older than I am for whom it seems odd that Milwaukee ever had an American League franchise.

On Tuesday night they looked like a minor league franchise. Zack Greinke was on the mound for the Brewers, and I was looking forward to watching him pitch. I know what you know about Mr. Greinke — he’s apparently one of the best pitchers in the game — but all day I kept wondering how it was that I had never really seen him pitch. Apparently the schedule usually worked out for the Yankees when Greinke was in Kansas City, and they missed him more often than not. Right about now, I’m guessing Greinke wishes they had missed him again.

The first sign that the night might not go Greinke’s way came with the first batter he faced, as his normally pinpoint control deserted him and he hit leadoff man Brett Gardner. (Greinke would walk a season-high three batters on the night; he had only walked nine batters in his previous 60.1 innings.) Curtis Granderson then hit a sky-high fly ball to straightaway center field. It should’ve been the first out of the game, but instead center fielder Nyjer Morgan inexplicably fell over while attempting to field the ball, which skipped away untouched and allowed Gardner to scamper home on Granderson’s standup triple. (Later in the game Rickie Weeks would inexplicably fall over in the middle of what should’ve been an inning-ending double play.) Mark Teixeira then grounded out to second, scoring Granderson and opening a 2-0 Yankee lead.

Two more Yankees reached base that inning, forcing Greinke to expend 27 pitches to get three outs, and after Yankee starter Freddy García needed just nine pitches to retire the Brewers in the top of the second, Greinke was back on the mound again after only a few minutes rest. The Yankees took advantage. After Eduardo Nuñez and Gardner opened the inning with a single and a walk, then eventually advanced to second and third on a double steal, Teixeira picked up another ground out RBI for the Yankees’ third run. There were two outs, and it looked like Greinke might be able to get out of the inning with minimal damage, but he walked Alex Rodríguez, allowed a run-scoring single to Robinson Canó, and then served up fairly large (left-handed) home run to Nick Swisher. Suddenly it was 7-0. Greinke would finish the inning, but the Yanks had finished him. The second inning was his last.

From there, García put it on cruise control as he pitched to the scoreboard. He allowed base runners in each inning and two runs in the fourth, but he never let the Brewers get a look at the game. After his six effective innings, the Yankees piled on a few more runs to make things more comfortable for the bullpen. Teixeira hit his major-league-leading 24th home run in the bottom of the sixth, scoring two; Jorge Posada singled in a run; and Russell Martin plated another with a ground out, and the score was 11-2 when Hector Noesi took over in the seventh.

Noesi made it through the seventh and eighth, and Cory Wade handled the ninth, and the game was over. Yankees 12, Brewers 2.

If I had told you back in March that Rafael Soriano and Joba Chamberlain would be lost for the season, Phil Hughes would miss almost the entire first half, Bartolo Colón would emerge as the #2 starter before following Hughes onto the DL, they would insert a former minor league outfielder into the starting rotation, Jorge Posada’s batting average wouldn’t climb above the Mendoza line until June 9, Derek Jeter would spend almost three weeks on the disabled list, and the team would go 1-8 against the Red Sox, you surely wouldn’t have believed me. And if you did believe me, you’d expect that the team would be teetering on the brink of implosion.

Nothing could be farther from the truth. These Yankees sit a game and a half in front of those pesky BoSox, they’ve scored more runs than any team in baseball, they have the largest run differential by a wide margin, and they’re sporting the best record in the American League. What might this team do when all the missing pieces return in the second half?

[Photo Credit: Nick Laham/Getty Images]

Brett Gardner LF
Curtis Granderson CF
Mark Teixeira 1B
Alex Rodriguez 3B
Robinson Cano 2B
Nick Swisher RF
Jorge Posada DH
Russell Martin C
Eduardo Nunez SS

Bombers vs. Brewers. Cliff has the Preview. Bottom’s Up.

Let’s Go Yank-ees!