Javy and the Yanks look to catch the Rays.

Sic ’em champ.

[Picture by Bags]

Over at Baseball Prospectus, “Friend of Banter” Jay Jaffe looks at the “Disaster Starts” of A.J. Burnett:

Burnett is in a six-way tie for the major league lead in disaster starts, with eight. As originally defined by former Baseball Prospectus columnist Jim Baker, a disaster start is one in which a starter allows as many or more runs as innings pitched. It’s the ugly flip side of a quality start, one in which a pitcher goes at least six innings while allowing three or fewer runs—a disaster because teams rarely win such games, and because they often burn through their bullpens just trying to find enough mops and buckets to get through nine innings.

Occasionally, the disaster start definition is limited to allowing more runs as innings pitched, and because the Baseball-Reference.com Play Index makes querying the latter definition much easier than the former one, we’ll stick with that for the purposes of this dumpster dive. Here’s the 2010 leaderboard, the Masters of Disaster:

Rk	Player	Team	DS	Team W-L	IP/GS	RA
1	Paul Maholm	PIT	8	0-8	3.3	19.91
	A.J. Burnett	NYA	8	0-8	3.4	18.67
	Scott Kazmir	LAA	8	0-8	4.5	13.38
	Jonathon Niese	NYN	8	2-6	4.4	12.99
	Kyle Kendrick	PHI	8	3-5	4.0	12.79
	Justin Masterson	CLE	8	0-8	4.8	12.08
7	Charlie Morton	PIT	7	0-7	2.9	20.80
	Joe Saunders	2TM	7	1-6	3.7	17.18
	Kyle Lohse	SLN	7	0-7	3.8	16.41
	Brian Matusz	BAL	7	2-5	3.3	15.26
	Brad Bergesen	BAL	7	1-6	3.8	15.19
	Nick Blackburn	MIN	7	1-6	3.8	14.70
	Matt Garza	TBA	7	1-6	4.2	13.04
	Javier Vazquez	NYA	7	3-4	4.2	11.83

. . . While it’s cold comfort to Yankees fans at the moment—perhaps less so now that they’ve clinched a playoff spot—the recently hapless Burnett rates as a pretty good pitcher in the grand scheme of things. Coming into this year, he’d put up a 3.83 ERA and 8.8 K/9 since 2004. He still misses bats at an above-average clip, his SIERA (4.42) is around league-average, but his BABIP (.323) is inflated; basically, he’s in a rut compounded by some bad luck. Thanks to the spaced-out schedule, he’s unlikely to get a first-round playoff start. He may just have painted his last disasterpiece of the season.

When it comes to late-September series in Toronto that carry postseason implications, the Yankees have a mixed history. In 1985, the Yankees entered the season’s final weekend needing a three-game sweep of Bobby Cox’s Blue Jays to force a one-game AL East playoff. They won the first game but lost the second game and watched the Jays celebrate their first-ever playoff appearance. The next day, the season’s final day, Phil Niekro won his 300th game.

Ten years later, the Yankees were the ones celebrating. They swept the Blue Jays to complete a 22-6 September and clinch their first playoff berth since 1981. The image of Don Mattingly pounding his fist on the top step of the Rogers Centre dugout, knowing he was finally getting his chance to play in a postseason series, is ingrained in the memories of Yankees fans.

Tuesday night, Toronto was the site of yet another Yankees playoff clincher. Following Monday’s two-and-a-third degree burn from the Purple Pie Man, there was a sense of confidence and calm with CC Sabathia on the mound. CC was back to his ace-level self, powering through the first eight innings, allowing one run on two hits in that span.

Sabathia was pulled in the ninth inning after putting the first two runners on base and retiring Jose Bautista. With a 6-1 lead, manager Joe Girardi could have summoned anyone to get the final two outs — I’ll be honest, I was ready for any combination of Javy Vazquez, the inimitable Chad Gaudin, even the Meat Tray — but he put one over on those of us who thought he was mailing it in since last Wednesday by calling on Mariano Rivera to close it out. Six pitches later, it was done. If corks didn’t pop, sighs of relief were definitely released.

Two thousand miles to the south, the Rays’ ace, David Price, shut out the Orioles to secure Tampa’s spot in the playoffs and keep them a half-game ahead of the Yankees.

Now the Yankees have a decision to make: Be content with just reaching the playoffs and rest the aging veterans prior to the start of the Division Series, or go for the Division crown and home field? Two games separate the Rays, Yankees and Twins. Only two of those teams will open their first-round series at home.

Girardi has said he wants to win the division. He has four games to prove it. At the very least, though, it’s nice to see that “x” next to the Yankees’ place in the standings.

QUICK GOOFY GAME NOTE
The Yankees did a great job of plating runners with less than two outs. And none of those runners scored as a result of a hit. While the Yankees did muster two hits with runners in scoring position, five productive outs — three sacrifice flies and two groundouts — and a bases-loaded walk provided the six Yankee runs.

Here’s another one from Pete Hamill via the New York Magazine Archives. Let’s go back to 1987:

Once there was another city here, and now it is gone. There are almost no traces of it anymore, but millions of us know it existed, because we lived in it: the Lost City of New York.

It was a city, as John Cheever once wrote, that “was still filled with a river light, when you heard the Benny Goodman quartets from a radio in the corner stationery store, and when almost everybody wore a hat.” In that city, the taxicabs were all Checkers, with ample room for your legs, and the drivers knew where Grand Central was and always helped with the luggage. In that city, there were apartments with three bedrooms and views of the river. You hurried across the street and your girl was waiting for you under the Biltmore clock, with snow melting in her hair. Cars never double-parked. Shop doors weren’t locked in the daytime. Bus drivers still made change. All over town, cops walked the beat and everyone knew their names. In that city, you did not smoke on the subway. You wore galoshes in the rain. Waitresses called you honey. You slept with windows open to the summer night.

That New York is gone now, hammered into dust by time, progress, accident, and greed. Yes, most of us distrust the memory of how we lived here, not so very long ago. Nostalgia is a treacherous emotion, at once a curse against the present and an admission of permanent resentment, never to be wholly trusted. For many of us, looking back is simply too painful; we must confront the unanswerable question of how we let it all happen, how the Lost City was lost. And so most of us have trained ourselves to forget.

[Picture by Bags]

If you hung on to the bitter end on Sunday night, then you can imagine what a pain in the ass this game is to try to write about.  For the first six innings the story line was about the continuing ineptitude of the Yankee bats, as Boston starter Daisuke Matsuzaka was dominant throughout.  The recap for that game was called “The Darkness on the Edge of Town,” and the story pretty much wrote itself: the Yankee swoon continues, the Twins and Rays are now the top two teams in the league, and the Red Sox and ’64 Phillies are looming.

But then the seventh inning happened and I ripped that first story up.  With one out and Mark Teixeira on first base, Alex Rodríguez came up to face Dice-K, a pitcher against whom he’s always struggled.  A-Rod quickly dug himself into a two-strike hole, then lashed at an inside fastball with a swing very much like a Rafael Nadal two-handed backhand.  At contact my first hope was that the ball would dunk in in front of an outfielder, but then as the camera panned upwards both outfielders were racing towards to the gap in right center and suddenly I was hoping it would be over their heads.  A split second later it was scraping over the wall and the Yankees had a 2-1 lead.  A-Rod was the hero, and what’s better than a hero story?  Again, the story would write itself, and it would carry the title “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.”

And then we got to the ninth inning.  Mariano Rivera had come in to get the final out in the eighth, and now he needed only three more outs to send everyone home happy.  Jed Lowrie almost ended the suspense early, but his rocket to right was cut down by a vicious wind and settled harmlessly into Nick Swisher’s glove.  Ryan Kalish followed with a single, and that’s when all hell broke loose.  Kalish quickly stole second, then a few pitches later stole third without a throw, and suddenly we were ninety feet away from a tie game.  Bill Hall then hit an absolute missile towards third, but the drawn-in A-Rod really had no shot, and the game was tied.  Proving that he had been paying attention earlier, Hall stole second and then third.  (You don’t have to be a SABR member to know that Mo has never allowed four stolen bases in the same inning.)  Now the winning run was on third, still with only one out, and the only thing keeping me off the ledge was everything I knew about Mariano Rivera.  But this wasn’t the Rivera we’re used to seeing.  He struggled with his control throughout, and eventually yielded a sac fly to Mike Lowell, giving the Sox a 3-2 lead.  This time, the story was titled “Cuts Like a Knife.”

But the ninth inning wasn’t over.  Even after Derek Jeter flied out to start the bottom half, I still had hope.  Nothing Jonathan Papelbon has done recently makes me fear him, so I wasn’t surprised when Nick Swisher started a Yankee rally with a sharp single to right.  When Teixeira kept the line moving with a single of his own, I just knew A-Rod would end it all with another dramatic home run.  Didn’t you?  Alas, he took a well-earned walk, loading the bases for Robinson Canó.  With MVP chants raining down (the first time I’ve noticed those for Canó), Robbie showed how far he’s come over the past two years.  He took two tough pitches to get into a hitter’s count at 2-0, then laced the expected fastball into right field to tie the game at three.  With the bases loaded, one out, and Jorge Posada and Lance Berkman, I was sure the game was in hand.  My only question was whose face would be covered in pie at the end.  But Posada struck out and Berkman flied out and we moved to the tenth.

The Boston tenth was uneventful, unless you count the fact that Joba Chamberlain looked good, and the stage was set for a walk-off in the bottom half.  With Hideki Okajima on the mound, things got interesting almost immediately.  Curtis Granderson roped a line drive for a single to right, then Brett Gardner reached when he was able to beat out an intended sacrifice bunt as Victor Martínez’s throw hit him in the back, allowing Granderson to race all the way to third.  As Jeter stepped towards the plate, I just knew Captain Clutch would wrap things up, and I started typing a story called “You Never Forget Your First Pie.”  Terry Francona made me rip that one up, too, when he walked Jeter intentionally to load the bases with nobody out.  Greg Golson was due up next (long story), but Joe Girardi sent Marcus Thames up in his place.  Thames did what he does — he hit a bullet — but it was snared by Adrian Beltré, who threw home for the first out.  Due next was Juan Miranda (long story) who worked an anticlimactic bases-loaded walk to end the game.  I don’t even know if he got any pie.  For a quick moment my story was called “Walk This Way,” but then I quickly realized that that was kind of lame.  The Yankees started bouncing around a bit, but then they quickly realized the same thing.  A walk-off walk isn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but a win is still a win.

Yankees 4, Red Sox 3.

[Photo Credit: Kathy Willens, AP]

Find two movie titles that share a common word – preferably the first word of one title and the last word of the other. Then create a new plot that combines both movies. Like: “Members of the Rebel Alliance escape an ice-covered planet in a time-traveling Delorian.” Have your friends guess the mashed up title.

Since you are beginners, that was an easy one (“Empire Strikes Back to Future,” with “Back” being the shared word). How about: Two hopeless alcoholics visit their boss for a four-day bender with his corpse? Or: A cocky, unhappy weatherman is forced to participate in the same NASCAR race day after day? Or: A secretary poses as a Wall Street executive and winds up being unfairly placed in an insane asylum? Or: Pouting teenage vampires take a road trip and get in touch with their feminine sides?

It’s a horrible, horrible game that I can’t stop playing. I hope it infects your mind in a similar fashion – I don’t want to be the only one. And I hope it distracts you from the way the Yankees are playing right now. They have lost 12 of 18 games and their grip on the best record in baseball and the home field advantage in any round of the postseason. They are hot, stale garbage. Since this game was such a mess, I want to take a quick peek back at what got them to this point.

The first cries that the Yankees stopped trying came too early for me. During that string of close losses at Texas and Tampa, I thought the bullpen was legitimately spent. Few of Girardi’s moves worked out in those games, but I thought he was taking a lot of heat for a dearth of sac flies and hits with runners in scoring position. But then came the “rain delay.”

On Wednesday, with a chance to take the most recent Tampa series, lock in at least a 2.5 game lead, and bring a four-game sweep into the equation, a wicked rain halted play with the Yankees trailing by a measly run after three innings. But the wind blew so hard that night that all of Girardi’s Major League pitchers were swept away. When the rain cleared, he gave Royce Ring his season debut, for some reason. He backed him up with Dustin Moseley, or as he’s known in my apartment, Bantha fodder. Moseley let up a run for Ring, and then one of his own. But the Yankees scored two themselves and were still squarely in the game.

Given the gift of a close contest after using the roster dregs, Girardi still refused to engage the game. Because the nasty weather cancelled Kyle Farnsworth’s flight to LaGuardia, Girardi had to turn to Chad Gaudin to put the game away. For Tampa. He let up two homers, but Girardi was scared to death it might get closer, so he left him in to let up another run. When Albaladejo let up the seventh run, Girardi finally breathed easily – there was no chance of extra innings. There was no chance someone might slip on the wet grass and get hurt. And there was no reason to use a good relief pitcher. He succeeded in putting all the eggs in CC’s basket. Then CC ate the friggin’ eggs.

(more…)

Like pitch counts and innings limits, rest has become the new obsession in baseball. Or at least it has with the Yankees. “The Yankees need to rest up for the playoffs. The Yankees, an older team, need their rest. It’s more important for the Yankees to rest than go all-out for the division.” I hear these comments again and again, from the fans to the media to some members of the Yankees themselves.

Enough already. Rest? If this team has any more rest, I will be ready for a rest home come wintertime.

Frankly, I never heard so much about the notion of resting for the postseason prior to the advent of the wildcard in 1995. Prior to that, teams had to go all-out just to win the division and qualify for the postseason. They could rest come November. But for the past 15 seasons, teams like the Yankees have often had the wild card as a fallback option. And historically speaking, wild card teams fare just as well in terms of reaching the World Series as division winners, so there is some justification for the philosophy of rest. Just as it is important to set up your postseason rotation so that your two best starters are pitching the first two games of the ALDS.

Yet, like pitch counts and innings limits, the idea of resting players can go too far. Way too far. Joe Girardi has been extraordinarily guilty of this. On two occasions this year, he has given Alex Rodriguez days off on Sundays, despite the fact that the Yankees just had an off day the preceding Thursday. What, is A-Rod no longer capable of playing three consecutive games? Girardi is trying too hard to be the anti-Leo Durocher.

Then there is Jorge Posada, who has caught a grand total of 76 games this season. I understand that Posada is a 40-year-old catcher, but he does not have the body of Bengi Molina or, for us older folks, Smoky Burgess. Posada is well conditioned and strong enough to go behind the plate at least 90 to 95 times a season. Instead, we have had to endure all too often the non-hitting spectacle of Francisco Cervelli, who has made Jake Gibbs look like Yogi Berra by comparison.

Another example of “overresting” (there actually is no such word, though Girardi is trying hard to change that) can be found in the bullpen. Over the last two weeks, Girardi has repeatedly bypassed Joba Chamberlain, David Robertson, and Kerry Wood for the dubious likes of Chad Gaudin, Sergio Mitre, and Dustin Moseley–this despite the fact that none of the “big three” has pitched in as many as 70 games this season.

Of all the Yankee players, only two can possibly be considered fatigued at this juncture of the season. They are Robinson Cano and Derek Jeter, who have missed a combined six games this summer. No one else should have any reason to be tired. All of the other position players have missed a sufficient number of games, whether because of nagging injuries, a stint on the disabled list, or just plain rest. Not even CC Sabathia has been overworked; he is on pace to finish with only the fourth highest innings total of his career.

Simply put, the Yankees have no reason to rely on the crutch of being tired this October. If they fall short against the Twins, the Rangers, or the Rays, I don’t want to hear anyone say that it happened because they were “tired.” I just don’t want to hear it…

***

“The Grandy Man can! The Grandy Man can!” Believe it or not, I heard John Sterling’s vaudeville home run call for Curtis Granderson for the first time this week. Where have I been all season long? Well, I usually follow the Yankees on YES, and not over the radio waves. And often, when I’m trying to tune in to the Yankees in the car, the AM radio signal doesn’t make it to these parts in central New York.

How is any of this relevant? Well, it really isn’t, but ever since Granderson retooled his stance and swing with the help of Kevin Long, while learning to keep both hands on the bat during his follow-through, he has become an offensive force. Don’t look now, but Granderson has a better OPS (.780 to .763) than Austin “Action” Jackson, the man for whom he was traded. Granderson has drawn unfavorable comparisons to Jackson all summer long, but those comparisons don’t add up. Given his power, his ability to draw walks, and the very fine defense that he has played in center field, the Yankees are actually better off with Grandy in 2010 than they would have been with Jackson.

An excellent defender himself, Jackson may end up winning the American League Rookie of the Year, but that’s in large part because of the weak competition in the league’s freshman class. Jackson has hit with little power, strikes out way too much for a singles hitter, and lacks the patience of an ideal leadoff man. If he were still playing for the Yankees, we would hear no end to these faults.

Let’s face it, The Grandy Man has been the better player.

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

The last time Sabathia and Price faced each other, I compared it to Dinocroc vs. Supergator. This time around I’m afraid it was more like Sharktopus vs. a blonde in a bikini; the Rays creamed the Yankees 10-1 in a game that saw Sabathia uncharacteristically implode, and Javy Vazquez not entirely uncharacteristically implode.

Neither starter was as sharp tonight as they were in their last matchup, but Price and Sabathia hung in there well enough to keep things close for the first five innings. The Yanks took an early lead when Marcus Thames (“Glenallen Hill Historical Re-Enactment Society Chairman Marcus Thames,” as Jay Jaffe dubbed him) hit a big ol’ homer to left, scoring Robinson Cano. The Rays came right back in the third, as a series of singles allowed Ben Zobrist to score Jason Bartlett; but in the bottom of the fifth, Greg Golson reached home on a gentle Nick Swisher single, and with Sabathia on the mound guarding a 3-1 lead it looked like the Yankees might get the best of this series.

It was at this point that the game got out its MetroCard and hopped on the 9:15 crosstown handbasket to Hell.

Carl Crawford singled, Evan Longoria doubled. Fine – these things happen. Rocco Baldelli singled, which is a bit more surprising but, given all he’s been through, hey – good for him, you know? 3-2 Yankees. Willy Aybar singled; Kelly Shoppach walked. It was at this point, with the game tied, that I began to suspect an evil alien force had possessed Sabathia, and when he then walked Sean Rodriguez, it was all the confirmation I needed. C.C. Sabathia just doesn’t do that sort of thing, and I only hope Gene Monahan and the Yankee trainers have some good exorcism strategies to get this demon out of the Yankee ace before the playoffs start.

Joe Girardi came to this realization around the same time I did, and yanked Sabathia in favor of Joba Chamberlain, who turned 25 today, and also gave up a ground-rule double to B.J. Upton and a single to Carl Crawford. This was probably Sabathia’s worst start of the year – it was the most runs he’s ever given up as a Yankee – and certainly his worst since May, when he scuffled for a few weeks. It was 8-3 Rays, but at this point it looked like a run-of-the-mill bad game, just one of those nights. It took Javier Vazquez to elevate things into Grand Guignol.

I don’t generally buy into the whole “he just can’t handle playing in New York” idea, but if anyone ever changes my mind on that point, it will be Javy Vazquez. I don’t know if he was merely having a very, very bad night or if we just witnessed a Steve Blass-style mental and physical breakdown live on television; Vazquez came into the game and walked Ben Zobrist, then hit the next three batters in a row. This tied the American League record, and was only the eighth time in all of Major League history that a pitcher has hit three in a row. Whether to conserve his pen or to allow Vazquez to reclaim a shred of dignity by letting him clean up his own mess, Girardi left him in the game. The worst was over, but it was one hell of a discouraging moment for a pitcher who’s had a number of them in the Bronx.

The inning finally bled out; it was 10-1 by then and not even the most die-hard fans could envision a comeback. By the end of “God Bless America”, most of the crowd had evaporated and Girardi had replaced his regulars with most of the Scranton/Wilkes-Barre roster. Inspired by that choice, I’ve decided to do the same thing and remove myself from this recap.

Now typing for Emma Span: her dog Pearl.

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On my way home from work, I flipped on ESPN Radio as Michael Kay was interviewing Andy Pettitte. Midway through the conversation, Kay asked Pettitte which was the bigger priority: simply making the playoffs, or winning the division.

Pettitte’s answer was telling.

“Obviously, you just want to get to the dance,” he said. “But as for me, I want to win the (American League) East. I think we’re the best team in the East, so why not go out and win it?”

Pettitte has been a part of 11 playoff teams, including 8 Division winners, in his Yankee career. Certain Yankee players, and definitely manager Joe Girardi, would not be as candid as Pettitte in their replies to a similar question. So to hear that level of honesty was refreshing.

And for the first part of this four-game grudge match against the Tampa Bay Rays, Pettitte’s teammates have answered the call to push for a division title. Tuesday’s 8-3 win increased the Yankees’ AL East cushion to 2.5 games, thereby guaranteeing that they’ll be in first place when the Red Sox enter town this weekend to close out the home schedule. The Orioles’ 9-1 romp at Fenway put the Red Sox a little further in the rearview mirror.

Speaking of the Red Sox, these Yankees-Rays series are bearing a strong resemblance to the classic Yankees-Red Sox battles in the late 1990s through the middle part of this past decade, aren’t they? The games are long, action-packed, loaded with playoff-level intensity. You could sense that even games like this one, where the Yankees sprinted to a 5-0 lead after one inning, would have its share of nerve-wracking moments. The Rays have made a habit of coming back from big deficits, home-run prone Phil Hughes was on the mound, and Mariano Rivera was likely unavailable after throwing 25 pitches Monday.

I’ll admit it: I’m still not sure what Hughes will provide on a per-start basis other than throwing a lot of pitches, give up a home run or three, and maybe last five or six innings. Based on his last few outings, what I wanted to watch closely on Tuesday was his handling of batters once he got ahead in the count, specifically 0-and-2. He had six 0-2 counts, and allowed two walks, a loud flyout to right, and had three strikeouts. Hughes struck out six overall.

Hughes demonstrated a level of guts that proved why he will likely be in the starting rotation come October. There were three specific occasions where Hughes went into “grind” mode:

1) Top 3, Yankees up 5-1, two out. After Hughes issued a wild pitch on ball four to Carl Crawford that allowed the lead runner to advance to third, Evan Longoria delivered an RBI single to cut the lead to three. That brought the tying run to the plate in the form of Dan Johnson, who hit two prodigious home runs off Hughes last Thursday in St. Petersburg. Hughes won this battle, getting Johnson to ground out to Mark Teixeira to end the threat.

2) Top 4, Yankees still up 5-2, one out. BJ Upton bounced back to Hughes for what should have been an inning-ending 1-6-3 double play, but they only got the force at second, thanks to a gross miscommunication at second base between Robinson Canó and Derek Jeter. Knowing his trusted middle infield tandem gave the Rays an extra out, Hughes had the demeanor of Dante from “Clerks” for the next two batters (“I’m not even supposed to BE here today.”), loading the bases on a single to Jason Bartlett and a walk to John Jaso. Two pitches later, Hughes got out of the jam by inducing a soft grounder to first from Ben Zobrist.

3) Top 6, Yankees still up 5-2, two out. Hughes reared back and fired a 92-mph, Eff-You fastball right down the pipe that Upton swung through.

That pitch had the look of being Hughes’s last one of the night … until Girardi sent him out there for the seventh. My first thought: “Bad Idea Jeans.” Sure enough, Bartlett led off with a single and advanced to second on Jaso’s groundout. Girardi then removed Hughes for Javier Vazquez. My first thought: “Bad Idea Jeans.” And sure enough, Carl Crawford floated a single to left to drive in Bartlett and bring up Longoria with Vazquez and his intimidating array of whiffleball pitches keeping the lead intact. It should be noted that at this point, I was mentally prepared to scrap my original angle and rewrite the recap featuring an all-out assault on Girardi’s bullpen management, but Vazquez got Longoria to hit the ball on the ground. Inning over. Quality start preserved, lead preserved.

The offense responded with two more runs, only to have Vazquez and Joba Chamberlain do their best impressions of John Wettleand circa 1996 on the Rays’ next turn at bat. Chamberlain, with the bases loaded and one out, Houdinied his way out of it by striking out pinch-hitter Brad Hawpe and getting Jaso to fly out to center.

An extra insurance run in the eighth courtesy of back-to-back two-out doubles by Brett Gardner and Jeter provided the final margin, as Chamberlain pitched a stress-free ninth. Not until that last out was recorded, though, was there any relief.

Pettitte believes the Yankees have the best team in the division. They may be, provided they maintain the level of production in clutch situations they showed Tuesday — 5-for-10 with runners in scoring position, seven runs scored with two outs — continue to receive quality starts through the rest of the rotation and get capable relief pitching.

A sweep, which is still in the offing, would almost solidify Pettitte’s theory.

Big Game James. I’m not buyin’ it, man. There’s only one Big Game James to my way of thinking and he didn’t play baseball.

Hughesie needs a good outing and a win.

Let’s Go Yan-Kees!

[Picture by Bags]

The top two teams in baseball faced off in the opener of the heaviest series of the year. The Yankees own the slimmest margin conceivable in the standings, but Rays fans would probably argue that their head-to-head record and tougher schedule thus far makes them more deserving of the title “the best team in baseball.” If one of these teams can win this four game series, that might settle the regular season argument right there. To recap this game, Alex chose me, because he either really wants to play the Twins or nobody else was available.

And if the drama surrounding the game wasn’t enough for you, the Yankees unveiled George’s monument tonight. Some might object to the fact that it’s roughly the size of Texas. Others might not, because, hey, it could have been the size of Alaska.

Through five innings, the Yankees cruised along like a team possessing focus and purpose – a first place team with every intention of staying there. After jumping out to a four-run lead Curtis-y of a two-run bomb and an old fashioned rally with hits, walks and a sac fly, the Yankees seemed poised to blow it open. In the bottom of the fifth, with two outs, bases loaded and Matt Garza’s pupils dilated, Lance Berkman waited in the batter’s box for the 3-1 meat ball that might put the game out of reach.

Hitting with a 3-1 count is a hitter’s dream. The hitter imagines both the type and location of the pitch and if he gets what he’s looking for, takes an aggressive cut looking to do serious damage. And if he doesn’t get what he’s looking for, he spits on it. Lance, pressing to get an important hit for the Yankees after his catastrophic gag job on Sunday in the eleventh versus Baltimore, couldn’t execute this simple strategy. Garza unleashed ball four up and in on Berkman’s hands.

With two strikes, it was a tremendous pitch. A ball, but maybe it was too close to take. And it was in a location that is only hittable by the fastest hands. But there weren’t two strikes, and thus Berkman should have doused it in saliva and trotted down to first base, extending the inning for Gardner and the Yankee lead to 5-0. Instead, Lance swung blindly, and the ball dug into the handle of his bat like an earwig. The bat exploded while the ball floated harmlessly to Ben Zobrist at second. Circle that pitch, I thought. These days, the path to defeat, no matter how obscure, could start anywhere.

(more…)

Andy Pettitte is a big man with a huge ass and strong legs, but watching him pitch, the word that comes to mind is: touch. Petttitte was everything the Yankees could have expected today, allowing one run over six innings on 79 pitches and he was a pleasure to watch, adding, subtracting–pitching.

It was a sleepy afternoon at Camden Yards with the Yanks leading most of the way. But the O’s rallied late, scoring once in the eighth and again in the ninth to force extra innings–Mariano Rivera allowed just his second home run of the year, this one to Luke Scott. It was on the second pitch of the at-bat, a cutter that was low but right over the plate, and Scott popped it over the tall right field wall. And like that, a seemingly casual win turned into a ballgame.

In the 11th, Alex Rodriguez led off with a pinch-hit walk against the lefty Mike Gonzalez. Eduardo Nunez replaced Rodriguez as a pinch runner, Ramiro Pena squared to bunt and took a strike. Then Gonzalez threw the ball away trying to keep Nunez close at first,  a one-hoper into the stands. Joe Girardi replaced Pena with Marcus Thames who worked the count full and then waved over a slider for the first out.

Mark Teixeira pinch hit for Brett Gardner and was intentionally walked. Derek Jeter was next and he too was given a free pass, bringing up Fat Elvis, who has struggled as right-handed hitter. Berkman hit a high chopper to third base and as the Orioles started the 5-4-3 double play, it looked like even Fat Elvis would be able to leg it out. But he didn’t make it, out by a step. The play took forever to unfold and once Berkman was called out it was clear to this viewer that the Yanks were not going to win. Twelve runners left on base is too much.

At least it was swift. Scott led off with a bloop double then Ty Wigginton hit a rocket in the gap to end it. Final Score: O’s 4, Yanks 3.

Regrettable loss for the Yanks–aren’t they all regrettable, though?–as they blow a chance to gain another game on Tampa, who lost to the Angels.

Yanks, Rays, four games back home in the Bronx starting tomorrow. Then the Red Sox over the weekend.

Should be lively.

[Pictures by Bags]

We like round numbers.  Did CC Sabathia’s season get any better on Saturday night in Baltimore?  Certainly not.  All he did was what he always does.  He took the mound, took control, and after a relatively quick three hours, he got the win.  Same old CC.  But even so, Saturday night was special.  On Saturday night Sabathia earned his twentieth win and became the first pitcher in baseball to reach that milestone.

It was also the first time in Sabathia’s career that he had won twenty, and afterwards he admitted to being proud of the accomplishment, but he also correctly reminded reporters that the win was bigger for the team than it was for him.  With the Rays continuing to win and the Twins staying close in the hunt for the best overall record, every game counts.  (And by the way, I can’t tell you how irritated I am that I’m checking Minnesota Twins scores in the middle of September.)

While CC was doing his thing on the mound, the hitters were killing the Orioles softly all night long.  It was never anything terribly spectacular, just a train that kept rolling from one inning to the next.  In the beginning it was about doing the little things: a two-out base hit by Posada plating two in the first, a sacrifice fly by Jeter scoring one in the second, a ground out by Jeter scoring another in the fourth.

But the lumber got louder in the fifth, as Robinson Canó homered deep to right, a shot that was rocketish enough that he was able to pose a bit at the plate before trotting around the bases and collecting his 100th and 101st RBIs.  (With Robbie joining A-Rod and Mark Teixeira in the Century Club, this year marks the first time in Yankee history that three infielders have driven in a hundred runs in the same season.)  The offense nicked the O’s a few more times before Curtis Granderson closed out the scoring in the ninth with a three-run home run to dead center field.

Lots of good things happened for the Yankee hitters in and around those highlights.  Jeter collected two hits to extend his hitting streak to seven, Nick Swisher hobbled off the bench rap a single and a double (and later ham it up during an extended on-field interview with Kim Jones), A-Rod continued to hit the ball hard, and Brett Gardner finished with a tri-cycle.  (A tri-cycle is when you get everything but the home run.  I just made that up.)

But the big story was the Big Man.  Mr. Sure Thing wasn’t nearly as good as he was the last time out in Tampa, but he was still able to do what he had to do to get the win.  Yankees 11, Orioles 3.

Happy Daze…

[Picture by Bags]

Over the summer, I had a chance to chat with former Yankee Ron Blomberg, who spent Hall of Fame Weekend here in Cooperstown. Talking to Ron is always a good experience. One of the most affable players I’ve ever met, he is full of positive vibes and ceaseless energy. He seems to have the same level of vigor as he did in his twenties, when he was trying to establish himself as the next great left-handed hitter in Yankee history.

At the time, Blomberg’s smooth right-field swing seemed perfectly tailored for the old Yankee Stadium. In particular, “Boomer” tormented right-handed pitchers, especially those who dared to throw him fastballs. During the 1973 season, he flirted with a .400 batting average in early summer before eventually tailing off. If only Blomberg had been able to avoid the knee problems that eventually shortened his career, he might have become the Jewish superstar that Yankee management had been anticipating since drafting him with the first overall pick in 1967.

While injuries and defensive foibles at first base prevented him from achieving such fame, he did gain special notoriety on Opening Day in 1973. That’s when he came to bat as the first designated hitter in major league history. Facing Luis Tiant of the Red Sox, Blomberg walked in his first plate appearance–and walked right into a permanent place in baseball reference books.

While his status as the game’s first DH has become common knowledge to most fans, it was Blomberg’s off-the-field ability that became well known to baseball insiders and members of the media. Boomer could eat enormously large quantities of food, above and beyond any other major league player of his era. Here’s one example. After one road game, Blomberg sat down and consumed ten steak sandwiches, assisted by a quart of lemonade. By the time that Blomberg made his first road trip into Boston, a local Beantown newspaper featured the delightful headline, “Close Up The Delicatessens, Blomberg’s In Town.”

Especially devoted to fast food, Blomberg regularly consumed four to five large hamburgers during visits to Burger King and did similar damage on sojourns to Kentucky Fried Chicken outlets. “We would go out and eat an entire bucket of KFC,” Blomberg once said proudly. A 3000-calorie meal was an ordinary accomplishment for the insatiable Blomberg. As part of one particularly memorable meal, Blomberg downed 28 (yes, 28!) hamburgers, establishing some sort of unofficial record.

With Blomberg’s reputation as a voracious eater established early in his career, Yankee left-hander Fritz Peterson (another summer visitor to Cooperstown) issued his teammate a challenge. He dared Blomberg to eat five exceedingly spicy jalapeno peppers at one time. Peterson himself feared eating even one of the zesty peppers; he considered the prospects of anyone eating five a downright impossibility. Confident that no one could pull off such a feat, Peterson offered Blomberg a small sum of money if he could successfully handle the fire-breathing snack. Peterson then watched in amazement as Blomberg consumed all five peppers within a matter of seconds. For his efforts, Blomberg won $10 from a disbelieving Peterson.

In spite of his eating habits, Blomberg maintained a trim physique throughout his major league career, with his weight rarely exceeding 185 pounds on a lean but powerful six-foot, one-inch frame. So how did Boomer do it? “We didn’t have personal trainers standing over us,” Blomberg said. “We had no rowing machines. We did construction in the off season. Put in sod. I ran the stairs at Columbia and Fordham University, since I was living in Riverdale at that time. I would run around the block with those ankle bracelets on.”

Blomberg liked to run by himself, but usually found company at the lunch and dinner tables. His list of fellow diners included voluminous eaters like Yankee teammate Walt “No Neck” Williams. Williams and two other Yankees regularly accompanied Blomberg on trips to well-known hamburger chains, where they gladly consumed hamburgers at the bargain basement prices of the early 1970s. “We had Burger King, when the burgers were 39 cents,” Blomberg explained. “We would have four of ‘em for under two bucks. Gene Michael, Jerry Kenney, No-Neck Williams—we would go out and eat together.”

While Blomberg, Kenney, and Michael were all relatively tall and lean—Michael was appropriately nicknamed “Stick”—Williams provided a contrasting view. At five feet, six inches and 190 pounds, Williams featured the physique of a fireplug. Known as a hustling pepper-pot player on the field, Williams treated the art of eating with as much gusto off the field. But he could not match Blomberg in terms of the sheer amount of food consumption.

Later in his Yankee career, Blomberg came into contact with another legendary eater, a man better known for his larger-than-life Afro. Oscar Gamble, who joined the Yankees in 1976, routinely downed eggs, pancakes, and sausage for breakfast. Gamble also developed a special appreciation for the clubhouse spreads offered at various American League ballparks. His stadium lunches included ham sandwiches, hamburgers, ribs, soups, and a variety of cheeses.

After games, Gamble liked to sample local restaurants around the American League for their various dinner fares. He particularly enjoyed trips to Milwaukee, which featured soul food. Gamble loved collard greens, candied yams, and peach cobblers.

With men like Gamble and Williams providing an appropriate level of companionship and encouragement on the food line, Blomberg cemented his standing as a champion eater. That ability, along with a growing reputation, carried over after his retirement from the game. Not so surprisingly, Blomberg became the first major league player to have a sandwich named after him at the famed Stage Delicatessen in New York City. Known simply as the “Ron Blomberg,” the large triple-decker sandwich consists of a combination of corned beef, pastrami, and chopped liver with a Bermuda onion thrown in for good measure.

I could do without the chopped liver, but the rest of the sandwich sounds pretty good to me. Perhaps one day the “Ron Blomberg” will qualify for an episode of “Taster’s Cherce.”

Bruce Markusen likes to dine at Cooperstown area restaurants like Nicoletta’s and the Hawkeye Grill.

Flix by Bags

Bags Groove: The night is on my mind.

Some flix from around town…

from our man in the street…

I want to be a part of it…

Over on Baseball Prospectus.com, Kevin Goldstein runs down the seasons of top Yankee pitching prospects.  Some excerpted highlights:

Andrew Brackman: . . . key to his breakout was more consistent mechanics . . the 92-96 mph heat suddenly showed up every time out . . . breaking ball now a big power breaker that gives him a second plus pitch.

Dellin Bentances: 6-foot-8 and 250 pounds . . . stuff is even better (than 6′ 10″ Brackman), with 1-2 mph more on his fastball, an equally solid curveball and even better command.

Manny Banuelos: 19 . . .  at Double-A this year, had a 2.51 ERA, struck out 85 in 64 2/3 innings . . . his velocity went from the low 90s to consistently sitting at 92-95 mph, while his curveball became a more consistent offering with sharp break and his changeup remained the plus pitch it always has been.

So much happened in the 25-minute span from 10:30 p.m. ET to 10:55 p.m. ET, in Tuesday night’s Yankees-Rays game. Five plays, specifically, spread over seven outs. All with the specter of a fifth straight Yankees loss and 1 1/2-game deficit in the American League East. Thanks to Curtis Granderson, Jorge Posada, Carl Crawford and Greg Golson, the Yankees earned a split in the first two games of this three-game set in St. Petersburg and vaulted back into first place.

First, Granderson’s incredible diving catch robbed Ben Zobrist of an extra-base hit — possibly a three-bagger or even an inside-the-park homer — to end the ninth inning, bail out David Robertson and send the game into extras. Three pitches later, Jorge Posada repositioned a Dan Wheeler fastball into the restaurant above center field to give the Yankees the 8-7 lead. Posada’s bomb sent the Yankees’ Twitter universe into upheaval as beat writers, columnists and bloggers — myself included — attempted to describe the sudden turn of events in 146 characters.

Mark Feinsand of the Daily News called the shot “ridiculous.” Our friends at RiverAveBlues guessed that Posada’s blast “probably would have hit the restaurant glass in the Bronx.” I wonder if it would have been out at Yankee Stadium I?

Bottom 10, enter Mo to close it against Carl Crawford, Evan Longoria and Matt Joyce. Crawford reaches on a single. Longoria also unloads to center. “Holy cow, that looked gone. Instead, Granderson catches Longoria’s drive at the track in dead center,” read the tweet from the Ledger’s Marc Carig. Crawford, however, made the first of his two base running gaffes here. Instead of tagging and ending up on second base, Crawford went too far, and was forced to retreat to first. He proceeded to steal second. This set up the second Crawford gaffe: Joyce hit a high fly ball to shallow right field, and if you watched closely, you could see the play developing as Golson sped to circle the ball in order to catch it in optimal position for the throw to third base. Crawford sped toward third and Golson fired what Michael Kay called a “laser” to third. Alex Rodriguez picked the throw on a short hop and tagged Crawford on the shin.

Game over. Arms raised. Fist pumps abound.

Carig later reported via Twitter that Golson didn’t think Crawford was going. Granderson was yelling from center field to alert him. Watching the whole series of events, I can only think of my father’s assessment of Rickey Henderson, and how he used to scoff at broadcasters who lauded his base running skills. Dad was, and is, of the opinion that Rickey was a great hitter, great athlete, great base stealer, but a terrible base runner. He didn’t tag when he was supposed to, he didn’t run hard out of the batter’s box, etc. Crawford’s hiccups are more of the lack of instinct. The Yankees made Crawford pay for his hubris.

It was one of the wildest finishes to what may have been the best regular season game the Yankees played since A-Rod’s walk-off home run beat the Red Sox in 15 innings last year.

* * *

Lost amid the hubbub of the last two innings was how events progressed to that point. Storylines heading into the game were as follows: 1) Four straight losses, two of them coming in disappointing extra-inning fashion, to relinquish control of first place for the first time since August 3. 2) Bullpen question marks. The Meat Tray and Chad Gaudin prominently involved. (To this end, Michael Kay recited a quote during the My9 telecast from pitching coach Dave Eiland: “Sometimes you have to lose a battle to win the war,” a not-so-subtle metaphor for the Yankees’ long-term thinking and plans to get the main horses for the bullpen healthy in time for the playoffs. Those horses will likely not include the Meat Tray or Gaudin. Back to the recap.) 3) Swisher and Gardner out of the lineup. 4) Tex with a broken pinky toe on his right foot. 5) Perhaps most flagrant, manager Joe Girardi says he’s gunning for the division but acting like he’s gunning to open the playoffs in Minnesota to face Carl Pavano’s mustache.

To add even more reasons to drive fans into a questioning frenzy, Girardi trotted out a lineup that was essentially 5 1/2 deep to support Ivan Nova, who was opposing Matt Garza, ye of the no-hitter.

The way both offenses started the game, though, combining to strand seven runners in the first two innings (four in scoring position), it was only a matter of time before the dam broke and the numbers got crooked in a hurry.

For the Yankees, that time was the third inning, when they exploded for four runs, the rally capped by a frozen rope of a home run by Robinson Canóo. In the fifth, an A-Rod home run and another tack-on run had many Yankee fans feeling comfortable with a 6-0 lead.

That was, until Nova lost the strike zone and coughed up the lead in the fifth. Willy Aybar’s pinch-hit home run — off a good 1-2 pitch by Boone Logan that was just golfed into the seats — cemented the 7-run comeback. The Yankees got the tying run right away, and then both bullpens took over. Before the Posada home run, three Rays relievers combined to retire 11 consecutive Yankees.

The Yankees’ relief arms were equally good. Logan, to his credit, retired four in a row after the Aybar home run and Joba Chamberlain, Kerry Wood and Robertson combined to allow just one base runner. Until he arrived for the ninth, Robertson had warmed up on three separate occasions.

The Yankees needed this win badly. Any shot of confidence will help, the way they’ve literally limped through the last week and a half. And if these two teams meet in the ALCS, we can only hope, as Ian O’Connor tweeted, that it goes seven games and each one resembles the first two games of this series.

Did last night happen? It sure am did. It was damp and chilly in the Bronx this morning but the sun was out and today is a new day. The city is sparklin’, and a win tonight puts the Yanks back in first place.

Hope is the thing called Nova. Today will be a better day, ya hear?

[Picture by Iyasu Nagata]