"It's great to be young and a Yankee."

The subway embodies the fast-paced lifestyle and convenient access that saturates New York City. It also highlights the unadulterated evil in people. (I'm playing it pretty fast and loose with the word "evil," as it can include anything from barrelling onto the train before everyone has finished getting off...to being too fat and taking up too much space...to trying out all your ringtones.)

Similarly, the All Star Game embodies the burgeoning talent and ambition that saturates our pasttime. It also highights the evils of the game. And the fans.

To be clear, I can't stand the All Star Game and the Home Run Derby. And how often do I ever find fault with anything Great American Pasttime-related? Almost never. Outside of my family/friends/God, baseball is the best thing in the entire world.

(Breakfast is up there, too.)

As far as I can tell, the only benefit is that it gives the Yankees that nice little "just wait til after the break" checkpoint, when they're not doing so hot and the fans are ready to impale themselves on sharpened bats.

I swear I'm not just saying all this because the American League is currently two grand slams worth of runs behind the National League. You know you're young when you still use half intervals to communicate your age, and you know you're in trouble when you're using grand slam units to conceive a comeback.

No, that's not why I'm saying it. I'm pretty sure I've always maintained the not-too-uncommon mentality that if the ASG is going to determine something as significant as home field advantage, then it needs to be decided by a more regimented voting system than fan popularity.

The amount of Don't Forget to Vote! emails I get from mlb.com and yankees.com is staggering, and they begin circa February or something.

Basically the equivalent of showering your classmates with cupcakes when you're running for class president.

Whatever, the Yankees always have a bajillion players on the ASG roster for the same reason my sister's fantasy team is 99% Yankees: The Yankees are good. Why shouldn't they be on the team?

I also HATE having to watch the Yankees be all chummy with the Red Socks. Although this year I guess it's just Ortiz. I don't care how much is said about what a great guy he is and how he's just a big teddy bear. He's shady, whiny, and passive aggressive.

Last night, there was the home run derby, which kills me because we spend the lion's share of the year either fighting off steroid accusations or narrowing our eyes at any sudden surge in performance, with roids racing to the forefront of our minds almost immediately. But then for 1 day, it's ok to be a ridiculous power hitter. It's the TOPS! It's exciting.

Then the next day, it's back to "SERIOUSLY CAN SOMEONE PLEASE STICK A PEE STICK DRUG TEST IN BAUTISTA'S URINAL FOR THE LOVE OF GOD."

For the record, why I obviously don't condone steroids, I don't really have the same vicious contempt for it as everyone else.

A.) The Sosa-McGwire season was fueled by the juice, and it also saved the game in the Great Depression that followed the 1994 strike.
2.) Steroids doesn't make you have a good swing. Drugs only enhance what's already there.
D.) There's always gonna be some mitigating factor in the game. It's unavoidable. Sign of the times, etc. Eh, I've argued this point enough. Back to the real evil.

ASG. Home Run Derby. Kansas City.

Yeah, KC. You. Booing Cano? You have got to be f'n kidding me. What did Cano ever do to you? It's not like he Nancy Kerrigan'd Butler out of the running. You're pissed because there are no Royals playing in an exhibition game? How old are you, 8?

You're like the freaking Mets complaining about Dickey's 1-hitter. You got a no-no. You got the ASG game. Now you want the world.

And instead of Selig taking the toy away because obviously no one knows how to play nice, he decides to just change the rules so that the brattiest kid shuts up. I empathize somewhat. When I was coaching soccer, there was always a kid who just flat out refused to be taken out of the game. And what the hell was I gonna do? Throw him over my shoulder and physically remove him?

So instead I was forced to take out one of the more docile players who may or may not have understood that he'll get to go back in the game eventually, but who did honor some degree of respect for authority.

Next year the ASG is at Citi. Which is hilarious for 1000 reasons because Queens may combust from seeing so much talent in one place at the same time. I don't even know if their field is equipped to handle the kind of professional play that Mets' fans have grown accustomed to not seeing ever.

I suppose the booing thing won't be anything new though. I don't even think Mets fans know what they're booing or cheering half the time. They just know they've have a tough life of fandom and they'll react however they damn well please, whenever they damn well want. Fair enough.

So, Kansas City, be thankful that AJ is not a Yankee anymore, because you know that raving psychopath would have fully abandoned interest in the strike zone, in favor of concussing each and every batter, before moving on to the stadium stands.

I wouldn't put it past Ivan Nova though, actually. Something about that guy makes me think he's capable of being a little nuts with the proper coaxing.

Annnd it's the top of the 9th. And the American League All Stars, in all their superior talent, haven't been able to muster up a run. Verlander gave up about a 100 hits and runs. And Melky Cabrera is probably the game's MVP. Yeah, everything's totally normal here.

And KC...c'mon. You're better than that. But Billy Butler is not better than Cano.

And, hey, the ASG doesn't mean anything. It's all in good fun. Exhibition game. NBD.

Good thing this doesn't count for anything, yeah?

Enough of this communist crap. Let's get back to real baseball.

I think the most important question on everyone's minds after the 7-3 win tonight in Boston that puts the Yankees at a major league best 52-33 before the All-Star break, is:

Why didn't Mark Teixeira come to bat with a pink bat and adorned in ribbons?

Seriously, that was the first thing I thought of when I was watching the game. How can you not?? After what Padilla said this week, if I were Tex, I would have been like, Dear Diary, Jackpot, Love Mark. And then I would have made Padilla rue the day he ever said these galactically hilarious words:

"In this sport, as competitive ball players, we get pretty fired up. So I think, maybe, [Teixeira] picked the wrong profession. I think he'd be better off playing a women's sport. The problem is he talks about all the wrong things that others have done, but the things he's done -- against the Latinos-- he doesn't open his mouth about. He once threatened me and said he was going to hit me with a bat, and that's when we were playing on the same team."

Ok, obviously, this is pure gold. It's stunning, really. And the only thing I can think of that even comes CLOSE to this is when Kanye basically had a stroke on air in some kind of a trying-to-get-money-for-Katrina-victims thing that he was hosting with poor Mike Myers.

Mark Teixeira doesn't care about Latinos. Yeah, that's fair. Whenever I think about that cantankerous asshole Tex, the first image that comes to mind is the litany of wildly racist comments he's always making. Nope. He doesn't make a litany of ANY comments, let alone pointed ones.

I do love LOVE the idea of the alleged "threatening with a bat" contention, though. The idea is so preposterous, that I'm nearly 100% certain that Tex was more likely threatening to hit the BALL with a bat. Which apparently is all but impossible when batting against Vicente Laloosh.

(Actually, as my sister noted, "I'd probably threaten him with a bat too if someone kept throwing fast balls at my head. I think he's probably within his rights, really.")

And finally, the women's sport comment. Wow. Yeah, Tex probably would be better off pursuing different career opportunities. Major League Baseball just doesn't seem to be working out for him. Some people just can't cut it, ya know. Thanks for coming out, Mark. Best of luck to you.

That said, how do you NOT come out loaded for bear, aka wearing women's clothing? How do famous people not constantly capitalize on the fact they can do whatever they want? (I have a really good grasp of normal social conduct.)

Moving on, game notes:

Ivan Nova was just filthy tonight, with 10Ks in 6 innings. Amazing stuff that kid has. (I don't know why I just wrote that like Yoda.) Congrats, Ivan. (I checked his twitter feed to see how excited he was about the game. And he was excited as far as I can tell, based on the exclamation point usage, but I'm better as Latin, not Spanish. Something dying of f'n hunger? Or dying from a swarm of truth today? Semantics. Great game!)

Lester was bad, as Red Socks pitchers tend to be. I used to love the guy until the whole FriedChickenGate came to light. I love KFC. But I don't love players (or anyone for that matter) who acts like irreverant in the face of failure.


Like, "oh you thought we were TRYING to win? Whatever, man, we were drunk and shit the whole time." Hedging your bets. If you win, then you're a badass for winning when you're drunk. If you lose, then whatever, it was only because you were throwing the rule book out the window.

So Lester gives up like 5 runs on 100 hits. And he leaves to go hang out with Lampwick at Pleasure Island. I swear Beckett is like that bad kid who Pinnochio plays pool with right before he turns into a donkey. Lester should've listened to Jiminy Cricket and stuck to being a good boy.


The Yankees scored immediately in the first inning, but after a whole weekend of watching them do this, I don't think anyone thought, YESSS! We struck early, and this is an auspicious start that will undoubtedly end well!

I mean, it did end well, of course. But a 2, 4, or 5 run lead in the first is about as reliable and meaningful as a drunk person who says, "Wait here, I'll be right back."

Then the Red Socks go ahead and try to answer but it doesn't look like it's going to happen...until the unthinkable happens. Derek Jeter dropped a can of corn and, in the words of Suzyn Waldman: "That was the weirdest thing I've ever seen in my life."

Well, I wouldn't go that far, given I have to take the subway to and from work every morning, so there are a few things in that arena that may give a dropped pop-up a run for its money in the all-time weird list. Plus, I'm friends with Ollie.

But yeah, it was pretty shocking. It reminded me of this time in college when my roommates and I were all out day drinking the whole afternoon and we got home and were lazily eating Dominos and trying to rally for the night. And our roommate who probably could outdrink Europe given the chance, said, "I don't think I'm going to go out. I drank too much during the day, and now I think I should stay in." It was so shocking that we immediately took her to the infirmary. Seriously.

And that's how I felt when Jeter dropped that ball.


(Apparently so did Girardi since a few innings later we learn that Jeter has a sore shoulder or something. I'm pretty sure they must have zipped Jeter to an MRI as soon as he left the field. And did blood tests, etc, just to get to the real root of the problem. It must be some kind of neurological anomaly, it's the only logical explanation for why a 38-year-old ball player made an error.)

He bobbled the ball later in the game, and I'm half surprised they didn't bring a priest out to read him his last rites.

The Yanks made up the run that Jeter cost them, with a passed ball by Saltwhatever. Well, he's really having a bang-up series. You think that him and Martin are in some kind of Catchers Pub trading notes? Actually, Martin would probably be like, "Dude, you're on your own here. You struck out more times than your team scored. Don't sit near me, please."

(Speaking of Saltwhatever, at his final K, I swear I thought I saw him briefly thinking about snapping the bat over his leg. But then thought better of it, I guess. Probably realized that the way his weekend was going, he was liable to break his leg instead. It's quite a commitment to decide you're going to go all-in on the bat breaking. You never really see a failed attempt at that, though it would be pretty hilarious. And it also would basically be the "Ok, check please. I'm can't hit the ball. I can't hit my leg. Our pets' heads are falling off!" straw that broke the camels back in terms of dignity-killing.)

Boston answered with another run when Ortiz doubled in Ciraco. The two of them look like Arnold Schwartzenager and Danny DeVito in Twins. (It kills me that Ciraco's number is #77. Why not just wear a sandwich board that says, "I may or may not be here tomorrow"?)


He's also doing pretty well. I mean, he batted .444 in the series, with 2 doubles and 4 ribbies. Not bad. Although the announcers were more taken by his "winning smile." Yeah, that's important too. A winning smile and a subway card will get you uptown.

Then there's Andruw Jones, whose winning smile is more my cup of tea (basically because he's on the Yankees, whereas Ciriaco is on the Red Socks). Andruw Jones hit 4 homeruns in 3 games. He's probably so excited right now. He almost hit his 5th on a blast that looked like it was going to hit Cambridge Street. But it hit the foul pole instead. He should've pulled a Cairo and just ran around the bases anyway.

All in the all, the Yanks had twice as many hits as the Socks (14-7). The Socks had more than twice as many BBs as the Yanks (8-3), and there were 25Ks between the 2 teams. (Math!)

As for pitching, Ivan was brilliant. Lester was Sock-like. D-Rob was uncharacteristically the lone run-giver-upper in the pen. (I swear I'll kill the media if I start reading, "Why David Robertson Is Now Useless" pieces.) Soriano was exceptional, but the lack of save situation prevented us all from seeing his violent shirt untucking, as he finished the game whiffing Saltwhatever. A fitting ending to a superb series.

It's tough for haters to trot out the old "buy your team" nonsense, when the bottom half of the roster is so head-scratching (DeWayne Wise--who I still am not 100% sure isn't a White Sock anymore, McDonald--who I'm not 100% sure is a baseball player period, Chris Stewart, Jason Nix...)

I mean, of course they'll still say they buy their team. Because Yankee haters won't be slowed by logic.

And heading into the All-Star break, the Yankees won't be slowed by anything.

Cheers to a great series.

Nice work, Boston. You didn't even play well!

I'm taking in the game now and the Yanks are up 4-0, and I'm so tempted to start BWHAHAHA-ing, but shouldn't I know better by now? Last night was bananas.

CONE ZONE LETTERS

And before I say anything more about last night, a thank you of galactic proportions to David Cone for referencing my site last night!

Seriously, I am touched and honored, and just like the letter the little boy wrote to the owners of the "Cone Zone" ice cream store after the class trip (no relationship to Cone of the David persuasion, coincidentally)-- "It was so good I almost exploded." That was written about a "bol' [sic] of ice cream with gummie bears. I echo those sentiments in regard to hearing CrazyYankeeChick.com on YES.

So, thank you times infinite, Coney.

I feel like Magwitch in Great Expectations, after Pip brings him the tools and food. The nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Maybe years from now I can be Cone's mysterious benefactor. Though I don't really see how he could "benefact" from me. I'll think of something. I make good spinach and artichoke dip and can play the piano.

And also, thank you to everyone who came to the site! I hope you continue reading it. I will say that I know Coney couched this in the context of Kay's talk about his statisticians, but anyone who's been reading this for a bit can attest to the fact that my coverage of the Yankees isn't very statistically minded. I mean, most recently I think I attributed "approximately 239 runs" to rookie Adam Warren.

Semantics. Anyways, I was an English major, so I have a tough time with numbers. (That was fun growing up, with my math-prodigy Dad impatiently helping me with my long division. "Why do you not understand this??" Well, at least I know where I get my complete inability to teach. Me giving piano lessons: "This is a scale. And you can't do it. How does that make you feel?" Short-lived career.)

Okay, I'm gonna BWHAHAHAHA now. I'm sorry, but Andruw [should be sic] Jones and Jason Nix just hit b2b bombs. And it's 6-0. Why am I doing this? Because I have a feeling that this is the Yankees mixing it up in terms of finding ways to torture the Sox.

Last time at Fenway they let Boston get soooo close to embarrassing us and then made a ridiculous comeback to humiliate Boston so much so that they had to cancel the 3rd day of their centennial celebration (I 100% don't buy that it was due to inclement weather.)

Last night they gave Boston hope that this was THEIR night to be the butchers. But no. No, that didn't happen. The Red Socks lose. And today I think the Yanks are just applying a good ol' fashioned rout method.

Alright back to the game. Boston has been "threatening" a little. They just put a run on the board. And I think they're about as "threatening" as a dark cloud in an otherwise blue sky kind of day. You know, when weathermen are like, "it's threatening to rain." I love when they say that, because I'm thinking of these clouds giving ultimatums, like "Just have the money for me by noon, or the earth gets it!"

As far as last night's highlights go, here we are:

Tex joining the "ok-I'll-bite-you-want-me-to-talk-shit-about-the-Boston-Red-Sox?-fine-I'll-do-it-write-this-down" fray. I LOVE love when players depart from the whole customer-service-manual-esque script of how to answer questions related to the Biggest Rivalry in Sports.

 (Seriously, I write a lot of objection handler type things at my job, for sales reps, and sometimes I think professional athletes have someone writing ones for them, too.) So I love when, instead of saying, "the media blows it out of proportion, we're actually all really good friends, and just want to help the team and thank God," they say something like, "Ok, I would kill so-and-so given the chance. Seriously."

Gary Sheffield was great at that. His post-game interviews were like: "How did you feel after you got hit in the head with a pitch?" "All I'm saying is that if I see him outside of the stadium, shit might happen." "Oh. So let's talk about that 5-inning homerun..?"

Tex's contribution about teeing off on good old Padilla:

"He doesn't have too many friends in the game. Guy throws at people. Fact of the matter, I'm not saying anything that's news.In the NFL, he'd probably be suspended by (commissioner) Roger Goodell eight games or a whole season. There's only one guy in baseball. No one else does this. That's the thing that is unbelievable to me."

Tex got a triple and celebrated at 3rd, which is awesome.

Kuroda wasn't that awesome, but that's ok I think. Beckett was a nightmare, as usual. Where's Bill Simmons' deluge of pieces lionizing the bastard now? Same goes for Papelbum who gave up a walk-off to the METS a night ago. Jesus. This is why the Yankees have an Old Timer's Weekend and the Red Sox don't. Because the Yanks' talent isn't ephemeral or trendy. They're classic and classy.

As opposed to...

Bobby Valentine saying Padilla should probably fire at people's heads MORE.

(Ok, I will say that I actually respect how Bobby immediately rushed to the defense of his pitcher. That's what you're supposed to do. He may be crazy, but at least he's not doing that annoying thing where you're apologizing for your players' behavior. It's like a girlfriend going up to a guy at a bar and apologizing for her boyfriend being a jealous freak. Who cares if he's being jealous? Your loyalties should be to your boyfriend, not the stranger at the bar. So...nice work, Bobby? Kind of.)

Ortiz actually played pretty well last night because he's loaded for bear now, apparently. He's batting an insane .308 after going 3 for 4 last night. What the hell is going on? No one wants to investigate this further?

I guess what difference does it make, really. It's like when I was in high school and for some reason we actually played a school for the deaf in basketball, which just seemed unfair, so the refs didn't really call things like double dribbling and travelling and out of bounds. And I for one was very okay with this. Similarly, maybe if you're in the situation the Socks are in, you're allowed to shadily have a .308 batting average and no one will call you on it.

HOLY CRAP, ANDRUW JONES JUST PULLED AN ENDY CHAVEZ. AMMMMMAZING!!! Good God that was incredible. Wow.

Jeter also had a ridiculously huge play last night at short, which made me happy because I hate when everyone inexplicably says he's the worst short stop in baseball, just because some study came out years ago that allegedly "proved" this.

As someone who actually reads clinical studies all day at work, I question the study design and methods used in this since them seemed to be a little, oh I don't know, subjective? A fuzzy set?  Whatever, Jeter f'n is awesome, his play at short was acrobatically divine, and it ended saving us a run. Cheers!

That was last night in a nutshell. I apologize for the back and forth between tenses that probably made this about as easy to follow as Vanilla Sky. But for the 2nd game in the double header, I'll be live blogging it. Log on to check it out and comment!

Thanks again for checking out the site! And in a final note, I'd like to assert my obsession with the fact that Soriano's "fist-pump" equivalent is violently untucking his shirt after the last out.

Boston is a tough team to like. I mean, yeah for me and most other NYY fans, it's about as feasible as winning a joust with a cardboard wrapping paper tube.

But in general, the Red Sox don't make things easy on themselves. Bobby Valentine doesn't help, but while I don't think it's entirely his fault, I think a part of him is loving how the rest of the team is just inspiring the same kind of ire and incense from their fanbase as he has.

It's like that scene in Stand By Me, when Gordon is telling his friends his story about Lard Ass:

"And Bobby Valentine just sat back and enjoyed what he had created: a complete and total mess-o-rama."

Four years ago today, Yankee fans got treated to this gem at Yankee Stadium--like some of photo negative of class. The noblest guy in the game versus the most irreverant.

And if Highlights for Children taught us anything with Goofus and Gallant, it's that class is better. (Contrary to what Latarian Milton would have us believe.)

This past Wednesday, David Ortiz decided that he's so good at baseball, that he has carte blanche to say whatever the hell he wants. That's fair. I mean, what could possibly go wrong if he just speaks his mind?

Seriously, where are these people's PR reps?? I swear I think they wait until their PR folks are like, "Ok, my sister just had a baby, so I have to go home for the weekend. Are you gonna be ok for a few days? I'll be back as soon as possible. In the meantime, just don't...don't. Just don't anything."

And then they lick their chops and go out and say shit like this (h/t USA Today):

"If you go crazy and give contracts to whoever comes along despite not knowing how they're going to do, then you don't give me my due consideration, even though I do my thing every year, f--- that. I'm going to be open to anything. My mentality is not going to be, 'I like it here.' It's going to be, 'Bring it to the table, and we'll see what happens.'

It was humiliating. There's no reason a guy like me should go through that. All I was looking for was two years, at the same salary ($12.5 million). They ended up giving me $3 million more than that (actually $2.025 million), and look at my numbers this year. Tell me if they wouldn't have been better off. And yet they don't hesitate to sign other guys. It was embarrassing."

Sweet Christ, Papi. You could hit 120312 bombs and still no one is going to sympathize with someone who's publicly whining about his $14 million contract. While you're kicking rocks around and throwing under the bus the city that's been pretty good to you, you got those so-called Fenway Faithfuls shelling out their weekend beer money just to see you bat every few innings.


And not for nothing, but I don't know if you have the luxury of accusing people of "going crazy," given your own apparent rejection of normal social conduct.


And you know makes it reaaaaaalllly believable that you're not on steroids?

Stuff like that.

And stuff like this:

2007:  Regular season, .332; Postseason, .446
2008:  RS, .264; PS, .192
Caught juicing/lying
2009:  RS, .238; PS, .083
Caught sucking wildly at baseball
2010:. 270
2011: .309

So yeah, he's probably just improving so much because of all the extra hard work he's been putting in. You can really tell by his rhetoric that he's the type of player that will put his head down and do the work and just honor his committment to the team.

-CYC, after the Yanks make a bajillion run comeback to beat the Sox during their 100-year Fenway party

The fireworks just started going off. I think Ohyob ruined fireworks for me when he pointed out something that actually had always bothered me about them: they never evolve. I want to see some kind of gyroball-esque firework. You know, like the equivalent of a pitch that's never been seen or done before. I want to see a firework that spells out something. If they can make a smiley face firework, they sure as hell should be able to make a Yankee logo one, yeah? Ohyob hates everything, though.

I prefer lightening, anyway.
Happy July 4th! Happy birthday, America! The Yankees celebrated today by avoiding being swept by the pesky Devil Rays. They are so f'n annoying. I may just be saying this because when they beat the Yankees, the fashion in which they do so just really highlight the holes in the Yanks' game. Or, worse, they just highlight embarrassing things. Like Tex's error at 1st that cost them the game on Monday. Or 3-0 lead they squandered to blow the game in the 9th on Tuesday, which included a monstrosity play from Martin.

(Who reallly beat himself up over it, to the point where I don't even want to harp on it that much: "It's a bad one for me," Martin said. "Offensively I've been pretty bad all year, but defensively, normally, is kind of a salvage, but today was just a bad one overall. I felt like this is pretty much my loss. If I make that play in the third inning, it's a whole different ball game." That's sad. I've felt like that before, like "ok, well the Yanks lost today, but at least work is going well!" And then I'll have a shitty day at the office and it's the worst feeling ever.)

However, today the Yanks won! Which is huge because who wants to go into a Fenway series on the heels of a sweep? I mean, who wants to go to Fenway period, I guess. Not me.

The Yanks had lost the last 9 to the Devil Rays at the tin can stadium. Which is insane, really. But you know when they had that kind of issue last? 2009. They lost the first 8 to the Red Sox. And then they went to Fenway and beat the 2-0 in a 15-inning testament ot lunacy and nerves. I don't the Trop really has the bandwidth to support those kind of dramatics and intensity, but still. I'll take a 4-3 9-inning win on a lazy fourth of July afternoon.

(Speaking of, is anyone else blown away by the fact WE HAVE TO GO TO WORK TOMORROW??! Has the 4th never fallen on a Wednesday before? Why is this so weird? I can't wrap my head around it. I mean, last night I was out like I was entering into a week long vacation. And today I spent on the roof listening to the game on the radio--2 years in this apartment and I finally bit the bullet and bought a kiddie pool to bring up there. And since I had just put in a load of dishes, I was 100% out of clean cups which amounted to drinking straight vodka out of a measuring cup, while submerged in a hot pink inflatable pool. Yeah, I don't know why I'm single either.)

There are few things in this life better than listening to a Yankee day game during the summer, and intermittenly nodding off and waking up to the sounds of the Yankees doing something good. It was only a 4-3 game, but somehow the afternoon was laden with excited burst after excited burst (pause) from Sterling. And the real kind, too, not the high-far-caught kind.

But, just in case there were concerns about the lunatic equilibrium being thrown off, by Sterling's notably lucid game-calling, there was this gem from Maddon in the post-game which ranks up there with the most ridiculous things I've ever heard ever. (As always, nod goes to the ex for the all-time winning one.)

But Maddon gives him a run for his money with this:

"Kyle Farnsworth is a big part of our present and our future. For us to get to the promised land, he's got to perform well, which he shall. I've never seen him do that before, but he just needs a little more work."

Any time you're putting Kyle Farnsworth at the helm of your team's dreams of nirvana, then you're basically lingering in this type of mental arena:

You know?

It's like, Good for you for bucking the criticism and bucking the gimp leg thing and continuing to show you're still a member of the team, dammit, and are gonna do your part.

In terms of the pitching...well, good God. Phelps whiffed 8 in 4 innings. Where the hell did he come from? What a fantastic outing. The Yankee pitchers have a way of doing that, actually. It's so endearing. Not the whiffing part, but the way they pitch the games of their life when they know their days may be numbered. When they know their performance in this game may, at most, just make the decision a little more difficult for the coaches when their regular starter becomes an option again.

Well played, Phelps. Well played.

Additionally, I've been insanely remiss in not calling out the LWM All-Star that is Soriano. Earlier in the season I definitely identified him as the most irrelevant reliever on the team. He had brought nothing to the table, good or bad. (Though I guess no one ever really wants something bad being brought to the table, by design.)

Now? He's been a life-saver. And a game-saver. Only one blown save in 20 chances. Not bad, R-So. D-Rob didn't give up a run because he's D-Rob and he had 2 bad days in the last week, so what. He's gold. Someone who isn't really gold, but I guess may as well be iron sulfite ("Your anagrams are showing, Dr. Lector. Louis Friend? Iron Sulfite. Fool's gold...") is Boone Logan.

I am not comfortable with being comfortable with Boone Logan. That makes sense if you think about it. He's been pretty solid as far as I can tell, but for some reason I have this like perma-uneasiness about him. Maybe since he came from the Braves, who I look at as a bunch of lawless hellions with bats. Boone Logan? C'mon, he's is the wrong industry. You need to be hanging out with tumbleweeds and saving girls from train tracks, with a name like Boone Logan.

But the thing about him is that all anyone can tell is "as far as we can tell." And I base this on the fact the Yankees seem to win when he pitches. He's 3-0 now, with the July 4th victory. That's right, B-Lo doesn't have a loss yet. And he got the W today. He's also the only reliever that came in today and gave up runs. 2 runs in 2 innings, including a bomb to a guy I swear only hits homeruns for one of 2 reasons:

1.) Because he hates the Yankees so much that he takes a break from being the poster child for inconsistent batting, just to take 'em deep."

2.) Because he hates the institution of fantasy baseball so much that he took it upon himself to drive ever person who drafts him.

Carlos Pena. Argh. Close but no cigar.

But still closer to that cigar than, say,Kyle Farnsworth. The promise of utopia that has been inexplicably assigned to Farnsworth, wasn't exactly thriving today, as he let up 3 hits, 3 runs, and 4 BB. All within the 0.01 inning he was on the mound.

Why not just bring Tanyon Sturtze into the mix? (Ok, I like Tanyon. But I question how the Yankees's brass came to the decision to invite Sturtze to Old Timer's Day. (After Tanyon pitched his 2 innings Waldman does a quickly little post-outing interview: "So how did it feel to get the last out out to get you out of the inning?" I think his response was something about how great it was to see so many people etc. Really his response should have been, "Novel. It feels novel, Suzyn.")

Alright, my eyes are failing me now. And I have to go to work tomorrow.Or rather, today. I have to wake up in 5 hours, and/or spend those hours doing work. The first harbinger of a return ot blogging: my complete dismissal of all thigns relating to "a good night's sleep," including its related clinical benefits.

As Mo said,"If I have to go two, I'll go 2." And if I have to sleep 2, I'll sleep 2. Or less. It's baseball time.

Enjoy the off day, and I'll see you when the NYY take on the Mess from the East.

Cheers to closing out a remarkably ambrosial Independence Day!

Fluctuat nec mergitur.

The week before was less so, as I had to miss Strange’s birthday party in Yankee Stadium (which probably wasn’t the worst thing in the world since the Yanks blew it big time to the White Sox.) And then they did it again on Friday. Big time.

Which kind of threw me into a tailspin, given the ugliness of the rest of the week, but all was well that ended well, as I mended ties with a missing piece.

This seemed to right the ship across the board, since the Yanks proceeded to win the next 2 games. And in the middle of all this, I got to hang out with Graeme Lloyd, David Cone, and Pat Kelly.

CYC Player of the Month though has definitely been Ollie, who not only sent me a bizarre yet awesome sympathy card in the wake of Crazy Yankee Hamster’s death, but who is currently living on cloud nine, since Oliver Perez is officially a major league baseball player again, having just been promoted in the Mariner’s system. Will the face of the game ever be the same?

Probably not. Looking forward to the Ollie’s Tamales making an appearance at Yankee Stadium the next time the M’s play in the Bronx. God, I have the weirdest f-ing friends.



The new guy, Warren, on the other hand…awww. What a nightmare of a game last Wednesday. Whiffs the first batter than gives up approximately 239 hits and runs, and I felt too bad for him to even be pissed off about the score. I kept thinking of his whole family watching and his mom feeling so sympathetic. As Fingers then remarked, “The pitchers mound in Yankee Stadium is the loneliest place in the world.” Then he berated me for never seeing Field of Dreams.

Re: Tex…well, he misplayed a ball and let the winning run in, and that was his first error in 671 chances this year. So if I hear word one about it, I’ll probably throw kerosene on someone. Instead, I’d like to focus on the improvement in his batting from the right side of plate. Apparently, the whole shift thing needed to be addressed somehow.

The bottom of the Yanks’ order is best captured in something Waldman said last week on air: “Another game, another player I’ve never heard of before.” Ha. Well played, Suzyn.

(Mere days to go before we sweep..)