Bleacher Report - Articles by Tom Schecter

Yankees Postscript: How to Make a Dynasty

Tom Schecter — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 16:27:23 -0500

With all the cards now on the table, and the trophy safe in Derek Jeter's arms, the overwhelming majority of fans are going to remember 2009 as the year Alex Rodriguez broke out in October, and call that the Reason they won. And in the grand scheme of things, they won't be completely wrong—but they won't be entirely right, either.

Over the fifteen postseason games that the Yankees had to play to win their 27th world championship, they got thirteen starts of six innings or more out of their three starting pitchers. The last two were the shortest starts, surely a sign of impending fatigue at the end of a long road, but there can be no doubt that Andy Pettitte would have gotten Pedro Feliz to end the sixth inning if Joe Girardi had left him in.

The total postseason stats for these three starters break down as follows: 94.1 innings pitched, 36 earned runs (3.43 ERA - first overall), 81 strikeouts (7.72 K/9 - third overall), and a .221 batting average against (first overall).

Joe Girardi's plan to start his best three pitchers on short rest in the World Series looked risky even to me, the unofficial chairman of the BleacherReport Andy Pettitte Fan Club, at the beginning of this series.

And I don't think it's going to work the same way a second time around.

If the Yankees re-sign Pettitte (to not make an attempt would be unthinkable), and the Yankees' Big Three are back atop the rotation next season, there are still a whole lot of questions regarding the last two spots in the starting rotation.

Chien-Ming Wang was horrendous coming off of his injury, then re-injured himself just as he looked like he was ready to return to form.

Phil Hughes was a better fit in the bullpen. So was Alfredo Aceves. So, when he finally returned there, was Joba Chamberlain. And either Chamberlain or Hughes is going to get tabbed as Heir Apparent one of these days, for when the World's Most Interesting Man decides he's ready to retire.

In the lineup, the contracts of Johnny Damon and Hideki Matsui, two of the four bats that stayed hot long enough to win the Yankees the title, are up. Between the two of them, $24 million comes off the Yankees (imaginary) cap number. Both players are over the age of 35.

Matt Holliday will command $15 million or more to play left field. Bobby Abreu will command similar numbers in the free agent market—and he's as old as Damon.

The answer, my friends, is to bring the next generation of bats up from the farm system. Juan Miranda and Austin Jackson should be allowed the chance to win starting roles in spring training. The Yankees will score runs, even with (gasp!) two rookies in the lineup.

And with $24 million available to play with, Brian Cashman can get the final piece to the Yankees' next dynasty:

John Lackey.

It's the best move, and the only one that makes a lick of sense. Signing Lackey for, say, $17-$19 million per for five years gives the Yankees the best four-man rotation seen since the Koufax/Drysdale/Podres/Miller tandem of the 1963 Dodgers.

Lackey's presence gives Hughes and Chamberlain more time to mature, so that when Andy Pettitte and Mariano Rivera retire, there are home-grown big-game pitchers waiting in the wings.

It gives the Yankees some much-needed Wang insurance in case he breaks down again. It gives them insurance for Andy Pettitte, too, in case his age and workload start to dull his effectiveness.

It forces the Red Sox to overpay for Roy Halladay in a trade, or accept their fall into third place in the East behind us and a resurgent Tampa Bay.

It kills the Angels dead. We pick up two wins a season for the next five years, just by not having to face him.

Oh, and we repeat. In fact, our ceiling, if Pettitte is still strong, and Wang returns at close to his old form, is about 142 wins and three series sweeps. We'll score a few less runs, and we'll give up a few less, and everything will look pretty much exactly the same.

Anyone who saw Lackey screaming at Mike Scioscia when he came to get him in Game Five of the ALCS knows he's the kind of guy you want on your team. Another warrior, perhaps an even more perfect compliment to C.C. Sabathia than Burnett, if only because of his consistency. A guy who faced down a World Series Game Seven and found a way to win—in his rookie year.

This is our guy.

Go get him, Cash.

At the Finish Line...Thoughts Before the Last Baseball Game(s) of 2009

Tom Schecter — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 11:54:21 -0500

In the grand scheme of things, baseball is a kid's game.

It makes heroes out of ordinary men. It makes celebrities out of lowlifes like Jose Canseco and John Rocker.

It turns cities against each other—sometimes, even boroughs of the same city. Its victories and defeats are celebrated and suffered with pure emotion.

It can make an 18-year-old kid lean out of his 14th-floor dormitory window at one in the morning and joyfully scream "Boston Sucks!" at the top of his lungs out into Washington Square Park. It compels the people down below to join in when they hear it.

It can drive men crazy with rage and grief. It leads to fists hammering through walls, and beer bottles shattering against sidewalks. It leads to fights, and tears, and jail time, and sleeplessness, and seasonal depression.

It is entirely beyond our control. It is a game of situation, of inaction, of waiting for that big moment to arrive and hoping our favorite player is at bat when it does.

It is the moment of shock, and the grimace and the bad joke we have to make after our favorite player strikes out looking in that big moment, or grounds into a rally-killing double play, or pops up to the third-baseman.

It is watching a big-game pitcher scream at his manager in the late innings, begging to be allowed to clean up his own mess.

It is watching that manager swallow his fist whole while the opponent plows through two middle-relievers over the course of the next five minutes.

It is the moments spent idly wondering, will five years and $95 million be enough to sign John Lackey in December? (OK...that one might only be for Yankee fans)

* * * * *

And on off-days, it is about waiting for the next game.

Wondering how much Joe Girardi really learned from Joe Torre while the two of them were in the same uniform.

Knowing that if Mariano Rivera has to get six outs tonight, he will.

Hoping we're able to think about Rivera in late innings...even if thinking about Brad Lidge and Ryan Madson isn't such an awful alternative.

Knowing that Andy Pettitte would lie about how he's feeling to take the ball in a game this big, and loving him for it the way we loved David Cone for it when that was his job.

Believing that Alex Rodriguez will smell blood in the water at some point in this game—and not tense up wondering if it's his own.

Knowing for sure that Derek Jeter will not kill another rally this postseason.

Hoping Johnny Damon has one last 10-pitch at-bat to grind. Hoping Hideki Matsui has one more big swing in his beaten-up lower body.

Believing that if we could Pedro* Cliff Lee in Game Five, we can certainly do it against the original Pedro.

Trusting that, if it comes down to it, C.C. Sabathia will find a way to get the job done tomorrow night if his teammates can't do it tonight.

And knowing that, win or lose, there will be no sleep after Game Six.

I love this game.

(* Pedro—v., to outlast a starting pitcher and hit him hard when he gets tired.)

World Series Game Four: The "Phillies Take a Shift" Game

Tom Schecter — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 00:53:18 -0500

I was going to wait until the World Series was over before I wrote a word.

I wanted to know everything and stop making predictions from game to game, as it drove me nine different kinds of crazy in the ALCS. And as superstitious as I am, I didn't have any intention of jinxing the Yankees on the doorstep of a championship.

But with the most important inning of the postseason—and surely the most amazing play in recent memory—under our viewing belts, the time is right.

C.C. Sabathia has had a long, tough fight against these Phillies over his two starts, and they've earned my undying respect and fear—a fear I never reserve for a National League opponent, mostly in part because they generally don't have the firepower to match up with American League lineups, or the patience to face down an American League ace.

For instance...Cliff Lee's dominance of the National League didn't worry me in the slightest going into Game One. The Yankees have seen and beaten Cliff Lee over the past few years, and I assumed he would get ground down, if not beaten. I wasn't just impressed by Lee's masterful performance in the Series opener—I was flat-out shocked.

As for Sabathia's past struggles with Philadelphia's lineup, I chalked that up to him being overly tired by the time the Brewers got to the NLDS last year.

Five days and four games later, by the time Pedro Feliz launched a 96-mile per hour fastball out of the hand of Joba Chamberlain into the left-field stands, I was already quite aware of how long the Phillies' lineup really was, and how tough they'd make every at-bat against any pitcher we could throw at them.

I'd seen Chase Utley absolutely own Sabathia over two starts. I'd seen Jason Werth destroy two different Andy Pettitte offerings thrown in two different locations. I'd seen them grind out a harrowing three-run second inning against Pettitte that nearly put the Yankees' championship hopes on the rocks until Alex Rodriguez woke up (obviously, there will be more on him later).

And after Brad Lidge ripped through Hideki Matsui and Derek Jeter to start the ninth inning of Game Four, I was settling in for a long few innings of keeping my fingers crossed.

Enter Johnny Damon.

In the way that it took the two steal attempts early in Game Four of the ALCS to rattle the Angels out of their momentum, it would take a similar bout of magnificent gamesmanship to keep these Phillies from going to work on the Yankees' newly-vulnerable middle relief in the bottom of the ninth and beyond.

Damon starts out fouling off two sliders hard down the right field line to fall behind in the count. But the foul balls are hit hard enough to get Lidge a little uncomfortable throwing his slider—his best pitch, and the pitch he'd used to beat both Matsui and Jeter to get the first two outs. Damon fouls off six total pitches throughout the at-bat, and on the 10th pitch, with the count full, he takes a fastball to left field for a single.

Teixeira, having a statistically horrendous postseason (with two enormous, game-changing home runs the only thing separating him from the "Bust" label thusfar), steps into the box.

Damon takes off on first movement from Lidge. Ruiz throws down to second, not nearly in time.

Covering the bag is third baseman Pedro Feliz. The Phillies are playing the Giambi Shift on Mark Teixeira.

And Damon knows it. So as Feliz is pretending to look for the ball to try to lure Damon off second base, Damon seemingly takes the bait—and races toward third base. There's nobody there for Feliz to throw to.

Lidge is rattled. He can't help but be rattled. And two pitches later, he tags Mark Teixeira with a fastball in the shoulder. The umpires, who warned both benches after Alex Rodriguez (not yet...almost there...) got hit for the third time in two days in the first inning, decide the plunking is unintentional. Lidge is left in the game.

And, of course, inevitably, the batter is Alex Rodriguez.

One hit in 13 at-bats in the World Series. The subject of another slew of "Has A-Rod lost his confidence?" articles over the last four days. The victim, realistically, of excellent pitching performances by Lee, and Pedro Martinez, and (believe it or not) Joe Blanton.

But now he's facing a pitcher who can't throw a breaking ball in the dirt, because the runner on third is the winning run. And he's facing a pitcher with a spotty postseason history—a pitcher whose spectacular 2008-09 run was likely the exception to the rule.

Fastball to the inside corner, at the knees. Strike one. Alex looks completely at ease. This game is already won. You can see it in his face.

Another fastball—this one a little bit higher, and a little bit farther out over the plate.

This game is already won. Rodriguez doubles into the left field corner. Standing on second, he points into the dugout. Anyone who knows anything about this team has to believe he's pointing at Derek Jeter. I got you on this one.

Posada singles into the left field gap, scoring the two remaining runners before being tagged out trying for second.

The closer in this series whose failures are truly shocking (and few, and far between) enters the game, throws eight pitches, and brings the Yankees to within one win of a world championship.

The hero, Damon, merely quips about not trying the same stunt on Chone Figgins during his postgame interview.

What else is there to say? Another day, another unfathomable path to victory.

One more, and we get to throw a party...

World Series Preview: What the New York Yankees Must Do to Win it All

Tom Schecter — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 16:56:02 -0400

Well...that was fast. My night of celebration ended about 15 minutes after I posted the last piece . Immediately, my mind started to shift to the new question at hand.

How do the Yankees beat the Phillies this week?

Here's the game plan, in three(-ish) parts:

1. Use the Long Lineup to Tire Out Cliff Lee and the Philly Starters Early. Then, Go to Work on the Bullpen.

This has been the plan for every postseason series the Yankees have played, and it's going to become more important—and more effective—against National League pitchers who are used to eight-man lineups.

If Lee, Pedro(!), and Hamels have to throw 17-18 pitches an inning, the Yankees will have three innings each game to gut the Phillies' mediocre middle-relief.

Does anybody in Pennsylvania really want to see J.D. Durbin or Ryan Madsen try to pitch to Teixeira in the late innings? Or see Brad Lidge face Alex Rodriguez with a game on the line?

2. Counter Ryan Howard, Chase Utley, and Raul Ibanez With as Many Left-Handed Starts/Starters as Possible.

That picture of A.J. Burnett is my way of saying sorry...

Obviously, C.C. Sabathia is going to make three starts if this series goes the distance. Joe Girardi should take a cue from the 2001 Diamondbacks' strategy and switch Burnett and Pettitte in his rotation, with the assumption of Pettitte throwing Games Two and Six.

This is Girardi's best option because Sabathia and Pettitte are lefties, and because they're certainly the best two starters the Yankees have right now.

That leaves Burnett in Game Three, and (gulp) Chad Gaudin in Game Five. The Yankees play the percentages on winning the first two at home, then try to take at least one game of three in Philadelphia—with Pettitte (and Sabathia) waiting back in New York to close the series out if it doesn't happen.

The other option seems to be three starters on short rest, and while my heart says Burnett and Pettitte could handle it, my brain reminds me that Burnett has never pitched in October before and was shaky against the Angels, and Pettitte is 37 years old.

2A. Keep Trusting Damaso Marte and Phil Coke.

The Yankees have two left-handed relievers in their pen. Against a lineup featuring the three aforementioned lefty sluggers, both will have to be excellent in the clutch at least once this series.

3. Don't Get Too Comfortable with the Idea of Using Rivera For Six Outs.

The Yankees had the best bullpen ERA in the American League in 2009 and the best bullpen WHIP in the Majors. A hiccup from Phil Hughes, Joba Chamberlain, and Alfredo Aceves in the Anaheim series is absolutely not an excuse to stop trusting the guys who brought the team to where they are now.

I absolutely expect Rivera to get the final out of this World Series. But it's going to take a total team effort from the bullpen to make sure they get there.

ALCS Game Six: Six Years in the Making, Yanks' Old Men Bring It Home

Tom Schecter — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 02:18:19 -0400

He was as animated on the mound as we've ever seen him—and exactly the way we always remember him.

For six-and-a-third innings and two-and-a-half hours Sunday night, Andy Pettitte turned back the clock yet again, as we've seen him do time and again in the most important of games, and gave the Yankees the victory they needed to advance to their fortieth World Series.

For his individual part, Pettitte won his sixteenth postseason game and his fifth playoff series-clinching game, both Major League records and two more lines on a potential Hall of Fame resume. But tonight wasn't just about Andy Pettitte, and he knew it.

This was for all the Old Men.

He seemed more than usual to sense the size and scope of this moment—his chance to create a climactic moment in the final chapters of these latest Yankee heroes' careers, and as his emotions burst through his trademark icy facade, so the old magic of his youth burst through his advancing age.

We saw him do the same tightrope walk the last time he started a must-win game, Game Two against Cleveland two years ago, allowing baserunner after baserunner and raising heart rates in every at-bat.

But when that big moment came, he was still Andy Pettitte. He would get the third out and get out of trouble. And though the bullpen and a swarm of locusts foiled him that night, he was the same as he always was. Six-and-a-third innings. No runs.

He lost the first such battle this evening, hanging a curveball to Bobby Abreu for an RBI single in the third inning. And for the first time, we saw him get angry at himself—even throwing his glove at a dugout wall a la A.J. Burnett when the inning was over.

And through that anger he came back to himself, focused and in complete control. And with a two-run lead in the sixth, with runners on second and third with two outs for Kendry Morales, he was still Andy Pettitte. He threw his cutter one more time, and coaxed a ground ball back to him.

And this time, his teammates stood tall and provided him with the cushion he needed. Johnny Damon—a man who, at 36, is likely playing his last days as a Yankee—drove in the eventual winning runs with a bases-loaded single in the fourth. Unable to get a power swing on the outside fastball, Damon simply laid back and served it into the opposite field, the way Jeter always does.

And after Pettitte walked off to a well-deserved standing ovation, Joba Chamberlain girded up his loins, pitched to contact without fear, and let his superior stuff retire the two Angels he faced. He did the job he could not get done when the flies descended two years ago.

Mariano Rivera earned his 37th postseason save the hard way, getting six outs like he used to for Mr. Torre in the Good Old Days. And yes, he gave up a run—the first he's given up in Yankee Stadium in October since the year 2000. But with help from his defense he held the lead, and when the Yankees struck back with two insurance runs in the bottom of the eighth, Rivera was back to his dazzling, unhittable self in the ninth.

Derek Jeter scored a run and worked three walks—an uncharacteristically patient performance for the free-swinging Yankee Captain—to help the Yankees wear down and eventually finish off the Angels' pitching staff.

Jorge Posada had an off night, finishing 0-5 with two double-play groundouts, but caught the final strike from Rivera's hand and then shared the first moment of celebration with his closest friend.

For his part, Jeter held tightly to the Yankees' two biggest and most expensive stars, Teixeira and Rodriguez, the three of them jumping up and down more like Little Leaguers than professionals as they soaked in their first taste of that oldest Yankee tradition, postseason victory. Both big hitters contributed a hit and an RBI apiece to get to their first Series.

This game was, in its element, a complete team victory. This is a complete team.

It's the first one we've had in a long while.

* * *

Fox dug up some old footage of Pettitte's first World Series win—that 1-0 masterpiece in Game Five in 1996—and no one who saw it could help but notice the map of the world that is drawn on his face now, thirteen years later.

It made me feel old too.

I was eleven years old when the Yankees won that game, that Series. And since that October I have lived and died with every pitch. I fully expect to for the rest of my life.

But to see the same stars I saw emerge as a child, to see Pettitte, Rivera, Jeter, losing their hair, losing velocity on their fastballs or a step of speed —to see them standing tall and proud and still capable of being champions made me thankful for every minute of these last six years.

I sat through the agony of watching the Boston Red Sox come back from the dead and blow away the last remnants of a Dynasty. I watched three straight teams self-destruct in the first round. I watched Bernie Williams get forced into retirement. I saw Joe Torre run out of town on a rail. I watched as star after star went down last year, old and tired. I sat through a pinstripe-free postseason for the first time since I was eight years old.

And tonight, truly appreciating what I could not ever take for granted again, I got down on two bum knees to watch that final strike come out of Rivera's hand. I prayed for it, and my prayer was answered, and I tasted salty tears on my cheeks, and wasn't ashamed.

The Yankees are back where they belong. It was worth the wait for all the old men who are still playing, and all of us who are still watching, from Tino Martinez in his luxury suite to yours truly in his room, five miles from the Stadium, screaming like I was there.

Screaming like a kid.

ALCS Game Five: The Angels Won't Die (or...Shut Up, Tom! Stop Talking!)

Tom Schecter — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 20:11:19 -0400

Alex Rodriguez is having a career-altering postseason.

Nick Swisher? Not so much.

No matter whether he's hitting left-handed or right-handed, whether he's swinging at fastballs or breaking balls, whether the pitch is a foot outside or right over the middle of the plate and thigh high, he is the surest out in the Yankee lineup right now.

Don't get me wrong—I love the guy. I love the energy he brings, and his goofy sense of humor, and his all-or-nothing approach at the plate...wait, no. Just the first two.

When you're at bat with the bases loaded and two outs in a one-run game, in any three-ball count—meaning, yes, even a full count—your approach has to be simple: you're going to get a strike, and it will be a cookie. Swing free and easy, and try to hit a line drive somewhere.

As the Yankees (and, most notably, the Alex Rodriguez) of 2004-2007 taught us, time and time again, if you swing for the fences you are going to miss.

Bright spots of the Yankees' wasted opportunity last night:

- Robinson Cano is about to get red hot, if he's not already there. If you look at Cano's approach against first John Lackey (the near-miss home run that he got under by a fraction of an inch) and then against Kevin Jepsen, his bat speed is dead-on with pitches around 90-91 miles per hour.

Why do I mention the pitch speed? Well, who else throws about 90 miles per hour? (If you said "Joe Saunders," you've been reading too much of my work this month and I'm getting predictable.)

- Hideki Matsui had two quality at-bats last night against two different left-handed pitchers—an RBI single against Darren Oliver, then a six-pitch walk against Brian Fuentes. That bodes well for him with Saunders on the mound, featuring similar stuff.

- Speaking of Brian Fuentes...is anyone here scared of him in another ninth-inning situation? I'll take it one step further: if anyone else in the lineup was up for that last at-bat, does anyone think we're playing Game Six?

Big concerns going into this weekend:

- Kendry Morales had an absolutely awful first three games in this series, then hit a home run against CC Sabathia and followed that up with two RBI singles in Game Five. If he wakes up, he has the potential to hurt the Yankees in a big way (he hit .500 against the Yankees in the regular season).

- The Angels will not die. And they managed to score seven runs against us yesterday without Howie Kendrick.

- Howie Keindrick plays second base against left-handed pitchers.

- Joba Chamberlain, Phil Hughes, Alfredo Aceves. Our three best relievers have had serious trouble this series against these Angels. Chamberlain's slider looks a little bit flat, and he's rusty enough that he doesn't know where it's going.

Hughes and Aceves both fell behind in counts and were too in love with their fastballs against a fastball-hitting team. Both gave up big hits, both have an L on their record. Bottom line? The only two relievers who did their jobs well out in California are Mariano Rivera and Damaso Marte .

But I'm not scared. Not yet...

Okay, that's a lie. I've been scared since this series started. It's been nine years and a fifteen hundred-odd ballgames since I last saw the Yankees win a World Series and I'm getting too old for this. My blood pressure is through the roof. I only got to sleep last night by muttering "Andy Pettitte after a Yankee loss" to myself, over and over again.

So here goes. Tomorrow night, the guy I picked as the rotation's X-factor in January gets to prove me right or wrong, probably for good.

ALCS Game Four: The Yankees Make a Statement

Tom Schecter — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 01:19:15 -0400

It doesn't always take a historical, dramatic baseball game to clue a fanbase in on something special happening with their team.

In the later years of the Joe Torre era, with the bullpen in shambles and the starting rotation often in flux, the uneasy feeling that no lead was safe ran through every regular season game. And in the playoffs, it got worse. Watching close games in the later innings became one Bad Feeling About This after another, until the ax fell.

The lack of a shut-down arm in the bullpen to set up Rivera was only part of the problem. The other half stemmed from the lack of a killer instinct on offense—the ability to get the big single with men on base, for want of a home run.

The Yankee teams from 2004-2007 struggled with this constantly, and for the last two games of this ALCS it looked like the Yankees were going through a similar phase.

There are two faces—two brains, even—to this team. These two different mindsets have been at odds in a battle for the Yankees' soul since the beginning of 2004. One is the Derek Jeter Brain. The other is the Alex Rodriguez Brain.

The Derek Jeter Brain is cool as ice, content to hit the ball hard and low to the opposite field and let the next guy keep the line moving. Or, if we're talking about a pitcher, they challenge the opposition to beat them, and trust their defense to make plays when the ball gets hit. C.C. Sabathia is a Jeter-type. Andy Pettitte and Mariano Rivera are like that, too - which is why the late-90s dynasty happened.

The Alex Rodriguez Brain feels the need to be the hero in every situation. This comes from a place of good intentions, not a selfish place, but in every big spot these guys grip their bats a little tighter, breathe a little heavier, and try to hit every pitch they see into outer space.

Or, for the pitchers, pitch away from contact and try to strike out every batter they face in a big spot. A lot of our guys seem to allow this feeling to creep into their subconscious in big spots. And the young guys, especially when they're going good, tend to start playing this kind of game too.

I wrote that in June, after the Red Sox swept us in Fenway to wipe out our first division lead of the season. The Two-Brains Theory has been a genuine concern of mine since the Yankees' meltdown at the end of 2004.

The Angels have had the Yankees' number over the past ten years because they are built to beat teams that play Home Run Derby baseball. They play good defense, hit their spots with their pitches, and find ways to grind down big deficits (and bullpens) until they can find a way to come all the way back. And they absolutely have the killer instinct.

The difference, we found out this afternoon, is that these Yankees are a completely different animal now.

CC Sabathia threw eight innings of one-run, four-hit ball—and only struck out five hitters. He was more than willing to pitch to contact and trust his stuff to elude the fat part of the Angels' bats, and it paid off. Aside from the Angels' one main threat in the fifth inning, Sabathia needed only 77 pitches to get through the other seven innings he threw.

On offense, the Yankees came out aggressive from the opening frame. Derek Jeter took off for second immediately after leading off with a single against Scott Kazmir - and got picked off. Alex Rodriguez led off the second with a walk, then stole second base - on Kazmir's first move.

That second steal sign was most likely the first time Joe Girardi surprised Mike Scioscia all series long.

Then came Melky Cabrera's leadoff push-bunt past the mound for an infield single to start the third inning (Scioscia had Erick Aybar try the same thing in the bottom half—and the Yankees were ready for it. Teixeira fielded it early and tagged Aybar out in the basepath).

In his next at-bat, leading off the fourth, Rodriguez drove a vicious line-drive single up the middle against Scott Kazmir. He would score the Yankees' first run by running hard on a play at the plate, beating out Howie Kendrick's throw home. The Yankees scored twice more in the inning and had another run overturned on an umpire's blown call on a tag-up.

It wouldn't matter; it was Alex's game now. After Mark Teixeira knocked Kazmir out in the top of the fifth with a single to left, the new and improved A-Rod took his playoff performance to the next level—the dagger he didn't put in Jered Weaver in Game Three went 400 feet into the hearts of the Angel fans in the left field bleachers.

Halfway through, the Yankees led 5-0, and Alex Rodriguez was looking suspiciously like Michael Jordan (except Jordan couldn't hit a breaking ball).

From then on, after Sabathia quieted the Rally Monkey for good in the bottom of the sixth, the last three innings were a mere formality.

And then the Yankee bats woke up.

A two-run homer from Johnny Damon on an Ervin Santana curveball in the eighth inning sent the message that challenging Damon with off-speed pitches inside was no longer a good idea.

Then came another monster hit from Rodriguez to lead off the ninth—a double into the left field gap—followed by A-Rod challenging Bobby Abreu's arm on a Posada flyout, and scoring when the ball flew off-target and into the stands.

Finally, Melky Cabrera, silent in the series until his bunt single, ripped a double into the right field corner to score two more runs—his third and fourth RBIs of the night.

It was a complete victory won by a complete team. And it was a statement to any and all comers—you cannot hold this team in check for long. They will out-pitch you, out-hit you, and if speed is your game, then they will out-hustle you, too.

Look for Burnett and company to drive that message home for good on Thursday night.

The Angels Are Who We Thought They Were (But I'm Not Worried Yet)

Tom Schecter — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 11:39:43 -0400

There was a scenario I forgot to mention at the end of the last column . If the Angels were able to come back from a big deficit and beat our bullpen in Game Three, that might make this series a series again, too.

That was silly of me to overlook. I forgot about Game Three of the 2005 ALDS, when the Angels blew a 5-0 lead against Randy Johnson, wound up behind by a couple of runs, and then managed to come back again and beat the Yankees to re-take home-field advantage. Mike Scioscia's team does not fold. Not ever.

Three pivotal moments in yesterday's game not related to Joe Girardi's last call to the pen:

—Alex Rodriguez gets a fastball right down the middle, inner third, and gets a little bit underneath it—just enough to keep it in the park. With Mark Teixeira on first after a walk, and Johnny Damon's home run two batters before, Jered Weaver was on the ropes. And a 5-0 lead would have been much more difficult for the Angels to get out from under.

—Vlad Guerrero has had trouble catching up to fastballs all series long. The problem is, Andy Pettitte's fastball isn't quite as fast as, say, C.C. Sabathia's. Why not throw a breaking ball on 2-2, with a notoriously impatient hitter at the plate?

—Scioscia's call for a pitchout against Brett Gardner on an 0-1 pitch was as predictable as Gardner coming off the bench to try to steal second. With the bases back empty, Kevin Jepsen was still rattled enough to throw a cookie (if you can call a 96 mph fastball a cookie) to Jorge Posada on the next pitch. Gardner's a rookie, and aggressive—someone has to teach him to wait for an even count, or for Posada to get ahead, so that the pitchout isn't an option.

Three reasons I'm not scared yet:

—Phil Hughes, Phil Coke, and Mariano Rivera were all effective on Monday, and are all still available and likely pretty fresh for Tuesday's game after relatively light workloads (Hughes threw 19 pitches; Rivera threw 17). And I bet David Robertson's pretty fresh, too...

(Okay, a quick note on Girardi's "micro-managing" problem...Short-term? It cost the Yankees yesterday's game. Long-term? It has kept everyone in that bullpen fresh and ready to go all postseason long. I'm not saying I wasn't confused, and then furious. I'm just saying, give some credit where credit is due...and see what he does on Tuesday if the situation comes up again.)

—The Yankees are 3-for-28 for the series with runners in scoring position...and all of those three hits came on Friday night in Game One (Cabrera's walk-off grounder was an E-4). How many more innings in a row would you figure the Angels will be able to hold the Yankees to one solo home run at a time? The Law of Large Numbers predicts a big inning sometime tonight.

—Six games, six quality starts. The Yankees' rotation has been absolutely brilliant thus far, and with pitching coach Dave Eiland's assessment of Sabathia's side-session on Sunday ("He was throwing so hard, he could have started [Sunday]!"), there's no reason to expect anything different tonight.

X-factor: Derek Jeter is 4-36 lifetime against Scott Kazmir. Who wants to bet on a single through the right side to start Game Four?

ALCS Game Two: Putting the "Game That Wouldn't Die" in Context

Tom Schecter — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 01:34:57 -0400

In a season full of dramatic ballgames, the context of the drama of Game Two of the American League Championship Series can only be described as What We Have Come to Expect.

"One relief pitcher left in the bullpen, one position player left on the bench, in a five-hour affair featuring pitchers getting into and out of jam after jam..." kind of sounds like the conclusion to the fifteen-inning epic the Yankees played against Boston at the beginning of August.

"Alex Rodriguez comes up to the plate with the Yankees three outs away from dropping a virtual must-win home game in a playoff series..." sounds a whole lot like the scene eight nights ago, but with Brian Fuentes replacing Joe Nathan as the main antagonist.

What you get, in the end, is the story of thirteen innings and five hours in the cold and the rain, a war of attrition plagued by sloppy defense and highlighted by clutch relief pitching that accounted for twenty-six total runners left on base.

What you get is the logical next place for the Palpitation Pinstripes (I'm more than happy to hear suggestions for a better nickname if you've got them) to take this recurring story of wild late-inning finishes and victories snatched from the jaws of defeat.

For the next day and a half, the Angels have to think about how they managed to let a game slip away that saw their opponents make three errors in the field, walk seven hitters and hit two more, and throw a few wild pitches.

They have to live with the fact that even though the Yankees gave them three extra outs misplaying ground balls—including one that Derek Jeter should have been able to turn into a double play, they scored no unearned runs. They have to note the most glaring difference in the game—that when they made their big mistakes, the Yankees jumped at their chances.

Fuentes throws a third consecutive fastball to Rodriguez on an 0-2 count—and leaves it over the plate. Not just in the vicinity, but high and over the middle.

Maicer Izturis makes a desperate throw to try to start a double play on a ball hit too far into the hole, and Jerry Hairston sees the throw go wide and immediately dashes for the plate while Chone Figgins is still trying to get a handle on it in short left field.

Meanwhile, cleanup hitter Vlad Guerrero comes up twice with the bases loaded and two outs, and the Angels score one run—on a wild pitch. Bobby Abreu looks at three called third strikes.

In close games in October, the team that's playing loose is the team that is going to win. After four years of watching every Yankee hitter grind his bat handle to dust and swing for the fences in every extra-inning at-bat, it's unbelievably gratifying to see someone else playing tight for a change.

The difference is having the experience, over and over again—until the pressure becomes negligible. Fifteen walk-off wins in the regular season is a nice story to be able to tell, certainly, but the force and effect of having been here before so many times this season is certainly calming the Yankees down here in October, and making them that much more dangerous to play against.

Bottom line: the Angels have to put up six runs against Andy Pettitte tomorrow afternoon, and remind the world and themselves that they can play at the Yankees' level. They have to win convincingly tomorrow, or they are going to get eliminated on their home field.

ALCS Preview...The Quickie Version

Tom Schecter — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 19:48:34 -0400

Twenty minutes to go before Game One. I am sorry I left this so long, but I've had a lot to look at, and a long week at my real job .

These two teams are absolutely the best two teams in the American League, both by record and by statistics. The winner of this series is the prohibitive favorite to win the World Series, no matter which National League team is left standing.

The deciding factor will be in the one place where there's any true disparity between the Yankees and the Angels: the bullpens.

The weather will be a factor, certainly. The Angels' speed versus the Yankees' catchers will take up more column inches. The starting pitching and the long, dangerous, and patient lineups for both teams will take their share of the spotlight, and of the highlight reels.

But what will finally decide this contest will be the skill—and clutch performance—of the relief corps. And in the late innings, playing for all the marbles, the Yankees have the decisive edge.

The Angels had the eighth-worst regular-season relief WHIP (baserunners allowed per inning) in the major leagues. The Yankees had the best (check out the rankings here ).

The Angels' closer, Brian Fuentes, blew seven saves in 52 chances. The Yankees had the most come-from-behind victories in the majors—and they have Mariano Rivera (1.73 ERA, 44/46 saves).

If everyone performs to expectations, and all things are equal, the Yankees will take this series with a late-inning stunner or two. (Unless it starts snowing, and we have to suffer through Chad Gaudin. Then I'll probably write a column on Tom Verducci's "Curse of the Rings" theory.)

In any case, the forecast calls for cold weather and rapidly-receding hairlines, with a chance of screaming, swearing, and the occasional ulcer-related abdominal pain.

Buckle up, kiddies, this is going to be one for the ages...

Yankees-Twins Wrap-up: Putting Out Old Fires to Make Room For New Ones

Tom Schecter — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 20:03:07 -0400

It goes without saying that the better team won this series.

The Yankees hit better with runners in scoring position over the three-game set; their three starters combined for 19 innings, a paltry four runs and fourteen hits allowed, with twenty-one strikeouts. The defense saved three crucial runs in close games—including Teixeira's two outstanding defensive plays with the bases loaded in the 11th inning of Game Two.

But among all the missed opportunities that caused the Minnesota Twins' ouster, I'd like to take a moment to mention some of the things they did well.

In Games Two and Three, Nick Blackburn and Carl Pavano combined to hold the Yankees to three runs on six hits, allowing only eight total baserunners over 12.2 innings pitched.

Matt Guerrier, the Twins' setup man, threw scoreless eighth innings in both of those games.

While all but the bottom third of the batting order was struggling, Joe Mauer managed to finish the series with a .417 average (5-12) and one RBI—and it's hard to drive in runs when there isn't anyone on base in front of you.

If you look at the what-ifs, and depending on who you ask, the Twins were approximately one blown call down the left-field line or two (out of three) costly baserunning mistakes away from being up two games to one with an opportunity to finish the Yankees' season today. My proverbial hat is off to them. They had absolutely no quit in them, overmatched as they were—a fair barometer of how good a manager Rod Gardenhire is, and how much his team loves playing for him.

* * * * *

Joe Girardi's postgame interview included an answer to a question about the Molina-Posada catching controversy that portends great things for him in this clubhouse going forward.

"I want players who want to play every game, every inning, 162 games a year...I don't want players who are happy to come out. I don't want pitchers who are happy to come out. They want to show displeasure? I'm okay with that. I'm fine with it."

Those of us who saw a few of Chad Gaudin's starts this August and September—and witnessed Girardi's seemingly premature hook come out for both Burnett and Pettitte in this series—saw looks on those pitchers' faces that were in various places on the scale of disbelief.

Girardi's feelings on the matter come from his experience in his playing days—especially, I imagine, his latter years on the Yankees backing up one Jorge Posada—and his willingness to step out in front and defend all his players - even during a controversy caused by a problem they have with him - is a step past even Joe Torre's well-documented defense of offending teammates.

It's also a statement. "Players' manager" or not, Joe Girardi is firmly in control of this team. He is going to make whatever moves he feels he has to make, and there's no question that his players are going to follow him, even if they grumble a bit. I'd be very surprised if we hear anything about another Yankee questioning Girardi again this postseason.

Wacky Schedule Means New York Yankees Can (Must?) Stick with Three-Man Rotation

Tom Schecter — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 00:57:11 -0400

Three things I just learned about the American League Championship Series have combined to give me chills in the last 45 minutes.

1. The format is 2-3-2, which means we're spending four days playing three games in Anaheim.

2. We're 2-4 in Anaheim thus far in 2009, including three gruesome losses in a row in the last weekend before the All-Star Break.

3. Chad Gaudin is still, at the moment, the Yankees' projected Game Four starter.

The first two items on this list are completely out of anyone's control at this point. The Yankees can point to their series victory in late September in Anaheim as proof that they can play anyone, anywhere, and go into the middle games of this best of seven series with less fear in their hearts than I have in mine.

But the third item on that list leaves me wondering whether anyone in the Yankee press corps (yes, Michael and Ken, I'm pointing fingers at you right now) have actually looked at the schedule.

There's two travel days, obviously, already scheduled for the teams' cross-country flights. Those are Sunday the 18th and Friday the 23rd.

Then there's a third day off arbitrarily inserted on Wednesday the 21st between Games Four and Five. And in that magical, unbelievably obnoxious third day lies an interesting proposition.

Does anyone remember C.C. Sabathia's final four starts of the 2008 regular season? He went 2-2 with a 1.88 ERA and 26 strikeouts in 28.2 innings to drag the Brewers into the playoffs—and he did it all on short rest.

With the four extra days before his next start, Sabathia will be fully rested for Game One on Friday night. He could take the ball in Game Four next Tuesday (the 20th) on three days rest, and (with the extra off day in Los Angeles) still be available for a potential Game Seven on the normal four days in between starts.

Burnett and Pettitte? They'd start Games Two and Three, and be on the normal four days of rest for starts in Games Five and Six, if and when they become necessary.

In all fairness, I want to take a moment to deplore the people who set this schedule up. Baseball isn't hockey. Baseball players do not need a day in between games during postseason play to heal the bumps and bruises of a non-contact sport. Extra days off interrupt the flow of momentum and focus, the two most important factors over a 162-game season. It ruins the game!

(Now I'll go back to explaining how the Yankees can use it to their advantage.)

Does anyone really want to see Chad Gaudin start in Anaheim, even if the Yankees are somehow magically up three games to none? Did we not learn about hubris five years ago when we let Kevin Brown and Orlando Hernandez' Low-80s Fastball start three combined games in a championship series?

We have the best three-man rotation in the sport right now. There's no good reason to add a mediocre fourth arm to the mix when the schedule doesn't make it absolutely necessary.

More thoughts, plus a postmortem on the Twins series, tomorrow.

Yankees-Twins ALDS Game Two - The Alex Rodriguez Game

Tom Schecter — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 16:17:23 -0400

He knew it was gone the moment he hit it.

It was one more in a long series of moments that have Yankee fans everywhere believing that this is one of those special teams that will go down in history. One more long shot paying off for a team that, for all its talent and gaudy statistics, for all the money it cost to put together, is building its legacy as a team that refused to lie down.

And it was a sign that the floodgates are open - a sign that the man who became a symbol of everything that was wrong with the Yankees of 2004-08 is finally ready to translate his talent onto baseball's grandest stage.

Even before Mark Teixeira hit his first ever pinstriped pie-shot in the bottom of the eleventh inning, Game Two of the 2009 ALDS had already been christened the Alex Rodriguez Game.

* * *

Through recent Yankee history, it has been the moments of high drama that the fans never forget.

The Torre Dynasty kicked off with a controversial home run off the bat of a skinny 21-year-old shortstop, and a career backup catcher getting the best of a fire-balling closer's mediocre off-speed pitch. Two years later, an umpire gave Tino Martinez a fourth strike, and Martinez turned it into a grand slam. And in 2001, playing for the life of the Dynasty and the heart and soul of a broken city, Martinez, Jeter and Brosius extended a great World Series into the stuff of November legend in a losing effort.

2004 saw Dave Roberts, and David Ortiz, and Johnny Damon, and the beginning of Alex Rodriguez' October struggles. 2005 saw him play "like a dog." 2006 and 2007 saw the once mighty Yankees descend into the realm of playoff afterthoughts, beset by sub-par pitching staffs and stubborn home run swings, with Rodriguez in the middle of it, looking tight.

Looking lost.

* * *

He did not look lost in Game One.

Not after a flyout to end the first inning with Jeter on second. Not even after an ugly-looking strikeout to end the third after Jeter's home run had tied the score at 2-2.

And in his third at-bat, he struck.

It began innocuously enough, with a short, compact swing to drive an inside fastball over shortstop, to drive in New York's fourth run and end Brian Duensing's night. There were two outs when he came up.

Now up 6-2 in the bottom of the seventh, again with two outs, he hit a long RBI single off the wall against Jon Rausch. He sat back on a curveball and hit it the opposite way.

* * *

A.J. Burnett's glove flew against the dugout wall. He had only thrown one truly bad pitch all night, and the Twins had taken advantage.

Burnett had battled. He'd walked five Twins. He'd hit two more in the fifth inning. But he'd given up only three base hits - and his defense at saved him a run when Swisher alertly threw to Jeter at second to tag Carlos Gomez as he stumbled, instead of hopelessly trying to nail Delmon Young going home. Jeter's tag of Gomez beat Young to the plate.

The only pitch he wanted back was that last 3-1 fastball, aimed at the outside corner, that tailed just right...right down the middle. And there it was: Brendan Harris' two-out RBI triple had broken a scoreless tie and likely ended the big right-hander's first postseason start in disappointment.

Nick Blackburn, for his part, was completely stifling the Yankees' big bats with a frustrating combination of two-seam fastballs at 90-92 miles per hour and cut fastballs at 86-87 miles per hour. The Yankees' left-handed hitters were seeing the fastball out of his hand, but were never sure which fastball was coming til it broke in or away from them.

It looked like it would take a right-handed bat to get things working. Jeter drove a ground-rule double over Gomez' head in right-center field with one out. Blackburn, a little nervous now, walked Damon before getting Teixeira to pop up for the second out. (Teixeira - 6-6 lifetime against Blackburn in the regular season, looked for most of the night like he was trying to do too much against a pitcher he owned, and carried a hitless game into the ninth inning. But we'll get to him later.)

Up comes Rodriguez with two outs and a runner in scoring position. Blackburn throws a 1-0 two-seam fastball towards the outside corner and misses his spot just enough. The ball tails over the middle and Rodriguez drives it through the hole at shortstop into left field.

Tie game.

Rodriguez pumps his fist in an almost Jeterian way when he reaches first base.

* * *

The first time we saw him in a do-or-die situation, with the Yankees trailing in a must-win game, he dribbled a weak ground ball up the first base line and swatted at Bronson Arroyo's tag, knocking the ball loose, giving the Bronx faithful one last moment of hope that the Curse would save the Yankees from their impending doom, from Game Seven and Kevin Brown and every other skeleton in Torre's bullpen closet.

The umpires convened and called him out. Obstruction. Jeter went back to first. The rally ended before it began.

* * *

Top of the eighth, two outs. Chamberlain and Coke pitched a scoreless seventh, and Phil Hughes has retired his first two batters. He just shook off a curveball called by Posada on 1-2, chose to throw his cutter, and struck out Delmon Young.

He's 1-2 to Gomez, but his elbow is starting to fall down when he releases the ball - a sign of overthrowing - and he's missing his spots, even on strikes.

He throws three straight balls to Gomez, trying to be perfect and strike him out. All the Twins have going for them, here at the bottom of their order, is speed and heart. Brendan Harris executes a perfect hit-and-run on 0-1.

Up comes Punto. Hughes throws four straight fastballs to the outside corner. The count goes to 2-2. He throws a fifth fastball. Punto fouls it off.

Posada flashes the sign for a curve.

(Thirteen years ago later this month...Mark Wohlers throws a 2-2 slider, and Jim Leyritz hits it into the left-field bleachers for a three-run home run. We are tied!)

(Somewhere, in a bar on 39th Street, Yours Truly is dead sober and having an ulcer, screaming at the television, begging them to throw a cutter. Having a Bad Feeling about this...)

Hughes throws the curveball, aiming for the outside corner and low. It catches too much of the plate, and Punto puts an emergency hack on it and bloops it into center field.

(Joe Girardi and Jim Leyritz learned an important lesson that day: Don't get beat with your second-best pitch with the game on the line. John Wetteland didn't throw another off-speed pitch for the rest of the World Series.)

Rivera comes in and gives up another hit to Denard Span. 3-1 Twins with six outs to go.

Let the Minnesota Twins believe for one minute that they can beat the Yankees...

Joe Nathan gave up 42 regular season hits in 68.2 innings pitched in 2009. He did not give up one home run with a runner on base all season long. His fastball tops out at about 94 miles per hour, and he couples it with a devastating splitter at 86 miles per hour, reminiscent of 2001-Era Curt Schilling, and a slider that dives down and away from right-handers at about 83 miles per hour.

He saved 47 games in 52 chances. The Yankees got to him on May 15, overcoming a two-run deficit for the first of three consecutive walk-off victories that set the tone for the rest of the season.

Nathan has a two-run lead now. The first two hitters, Teixeira and Rodriguez are a combined 10-19 against him lifetime.

Nathan leaves a 1-1 fastball a little too far out over the plate, and Teixeira rips it down the right field line for a single.

* * *

It's the ninth inning of Game Five of the 2005 ALDS. The Yankees are down 5-3, with nobody out and Jeter on first base, and Alex Rodriguez is at bat. He's 2-14 with five strikeouts to this point, and the Yankees badly need a hit.

Francisco Rodriguez isn't scared of Alex Rodriguez. He throws a fastball, and Alex pounds it into the dirt, right at the third baseman Figgins, for a 5-4-3 double play.

* * *

Nathan has been here before. He blew a save in Game Two of the 2004 ALDS, across the street. Being a closer is as much about mind-set and adrenaline as it is about stuff. And Nathan is nervous. He absolutely does not want to throw Rodriguez a fastball. Rodriguez knows it, and waits as Nathan throws three sliders off the plate for a 3-0 count.

A hint of a smile seems to be playing across Rodriguez' face. His lips look less...well, less purple, somehow, than they have in times gone by. He looks like he's ready.

Nathan's 3-0 offering is perfect, a knee-high fastball on the inside corner for a strike. Rodriguez lets it go past, unconcerned. Another one is coming.

("Don't swing harder, swing quicker." -Joe Morgan, ESPN Sunday Night Baseball, August 10, 2009.)

Rodriguez sees his pitch, a 94 mile per hour fastball on the outside third of the plate, thigh-high. His swing is short and compact.

And quick.

The ball flies off into the night, over the home bullpen into the fourth row of the bleachers about 430 feet from home plate.

Tie game. And suddenly, even two innings and countless close calls before it happens, the Yankees' victory seems inevitable.

* * *

Mickey Mantle heard boos for his first five years in pinstripes, even playing for a championship team, because he struck out a lot - a product of swinging too hard - and was trying to replace the great DiMaggio in center field.

Roger Maris heard boos in 1961 (even after winning the 1960 MVP) on a team running away with the American League pennant, as he chased Babe Ruth's home run record running neck and neck with fan favorite...Mickey Mantle.

Tino Martinez was booed in 1996 when he first took over for Don Mattingly at first base.

In the eighth and ninth games of the one protracted slump of his career, Derek Jeter himself heard boos as he moved towards making a personal record thirty-two outs in a row in 2004.

The moral: Yankee fans have pretty selective memories, once they decide someone's worthy of their undying love. And if this is the year that Rodriguez finally wins a championship in pinstripes, October 9, 2009 will go down as the night he became one of our heroes.

Yankees-Twins ALDS Preview: Big Mo and Big Moments

Tom Schecter — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 01:53:05 -0400

Somewhere around 10 minutes after six tomorrow afternoon, the man already anointed the American League's Most Valuable Player will step into the box against a contender for the American League Cy Young and decide what kind of playoff series we're in for.

Here's what we know so far, going into that at-bat:

CC Sabathia saw the Twins once this season, on July 7 at the Metrodome. He threw seven innings, gave up three hits and one run, and earned a resounding 10-2 win. Joe Mauer went hitless in three at-bats that day with a strikeout.

For his career, Mauer is hitting a paltry .217 (5-23) against Sabathia, with only one extra base hit and nine strikeouts.

With those numbers, you start to put a picture together that's a reasonable microcosm of the way people are treating this playoff series.

But numbers lie all the time.

There is no statistic that helps explain how Minnesota, without their second-best hitter and with a pitching rotation held together with safety pins and duct tape, is even here. Yet they won 18 of their last 22 games and beat the Detroit Tigers tonight to advance to the playoffs—but not before falling behind and having to come back three different times!

Their bullpen is completely shot. Their starting pitcher for Game One has 12 big league starts to his name. They rely heavily on Orlando Cabrera and Delmon Young to create offense.

But they're here.

To get here, they survived an seven-game deficit in September, the loss of a former MVP to injury, an early three-run deficit this evening, a heartbreaking, inning-ending play at the plate on what could have been the winning run in the 10th inning...and if not for a missed call on a hit batsman, they might still not be here.

But they're here. They play the game the right way, they are lucky when they have to be, and they've got Momentum.

Momentum is a more dangerous weapon than an ace pitcher, a cleanup hitter, or a rested bullpen. Momentum can carry undeserving teams a very long way, and if you don't believe me, just look back two years to a little catchphrase called "Rocktober."

How do you kill the Twins' momentum? Seize it for yourself. Win the first Big Moment of the series. Strike Mauer out in the first inning tomorrow. Make him look silly, give the crowd something to cheer about, and remind the Twins that "If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere" is only optimistic until you realize how hard it is to make it in New York.

Then let the Yankees loose on Brian Duensing.

If that's what happens, if the crowd gets into it early and the Yankees jump out to an early lead, that's when the 20-hour flight will start to weigh on Minnesota's minds. That's when they'll remember how tired their bullpen is. And like that? Momentum is no longer a factor, and we get the series we think we're getting on paper.

But give the Twins one reason to believe they can win this thing, and the Yankees will have to go 12 rounds with them—and it's 6-5 and pick 'em who comes out of the ring standing up.

Singing Along with the New York Yankees' Playoff Santa

Tom Schecter — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 01:56:56 -0400

It happened on Friday night, in the middle of another in a series of epic beatdowns that seem to be taking place in the new Yankee Stadium since the second half began.

For the first time since the Yankees clinched a playoff berth in Anaheim on Tuesday, the seventh inning stretch did not feature the grainy, campy 1900s stylings of Kate Smith doing "God Bless America."

I was already smiling wide. Our magic number to clinch the division was down to five, and soon to be three. The Yankees were up 9-3 and had beat the living hell out of the man the baseball world is calling the Red Sox' number-one starter. Joba Chamberlain had done a yeoman's job against the second-toughest opposing lineup the American League could throw at him and quieted his doubters down, at least to the usual New York decibel level.

Everything was going beautifully. And then the big man appeared.

Since 2001, he has been a fixture of big games at Yankee Stadium. His presence on the field brought home the point in stark relief, his marvelous Irish tenor singing out the Good Tidings of Great Joy.

October is almost here!

He has the ability to freeze opposing pitchers in their tracks. He wakes the crowd up and throws them into the proper frenzied state of mind for the last three Yankee at-bats. He is larger than life, out at home plate. Just him and a microphone, and the faithful at rapt attention.

Ronan Tynan is part of the Yankee legend. He is Playoff Santa. And after a long, hard year, he's finally back in town.

Growing Up in the Presence of the Last Baseball God (or, My Jeter Story)

Tom Schecter — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 23:43:30 -0400

One day, when I'm old and shot, and some little troublemaker who looks like me is in my lap after a Sunday dinner, I'm going to take the opportunity to pass onto him the desperate, passionate, eternal bond of the Yankee fan.

I'll give him the greatest gift of all, the knowledge of history.

I'm going to tell him all the great ghost stories I know.

Babe and Gehrig. DiMaggio. Martin, Ford, and Mantle. Mantle and Maris. Chambliss. Jackson. Bucky Dent. Munson and Murcer. Mattingly.

And then, having saved the best for last, I'll tell him about Derek Jeter.

No matter how many heroes' names are still waiting to be written in the great, never-ending history of New York Yankees baseball, his will be the one foremost in my mind. His will be the last name I ever speak of in hushed, awestruck tones. The last one who could do no wrong. My last Baseball God.

He was the last Yankee hero I knew when I was young - and the first I got to see play in person. He was Rookie of the Year and won a World Series when I was eleven and lost my first family member and my self-esteem. And from then on, for the next thirteen years, his (and his team's) exploits mattered more to me than my own.

I used the Yankees' utter dominance in 1998 and 1999 as common ground with a school full of people who could have given a damn. In the midst of a world crisis that would signal the beginning of the next Great American Decline, I believed, and kept watching, and hurt as badly on November 4, 2001 as I had on September 11.

In college, struggling to gain traction with my band and keep up with schoolwork, I skipped two full weeks of classes during the 2004 playoffs - only to watch a shadow of my former team self-destruct against its most hated enemy. I saw him try that night, with the Yankees already down seven runs and dead as dead could be, try desperately to drag the corpse of the old dynasty back into contention. His eyes flashed, and he clapped his hands hard from first base, trying to exhort any fight, any sign of life at all from his shell-shocked companions, and I wished that I was like him.

I saw him treat the game with respect, always. I saw his grin, night in and night out, as he remembered he was making millions to play a kids' game, remembering what a lucky son of a bitch he was to be here, while I got drunk night after night and bemoaned the laundry list of small aggravations that added up to my post-college life.

And I saw him break team record after team record, culminating in tonight's third hit - a hard ground ball past first base in the seventh inning to tie the immortal Lou Gehrig as the Yankees' all-time hits leader.

But his next plate appearance ended in a walk, and the world will have to wait til at least Friday to see him take the record all for himself. And I am going on seven months sober, and feeling finally like a man, and I have a date Friday night with a young woman who absolutely blows my mind.

Fate mocks me.

He's going to break the record on Friday, I'm sure. Probably in his first at bat. My former self screams at me, in my head, asking me if I'm insane. Somewhere in this is a story about growing up. Tonight, before witnesses, I resolve not to cancel.

And one day, when I'm old and shot...

Oh, who am I fooling? I'll probably tell the kids I saw him do it.

The Art of the Perfect Game (Or, How to Get Really, Really Lucky)

Tom Schecter — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 22:44:30 -0400

"It was a million-to-one shot, Doc."
-Frank Costanza

The Yankees won an unremarkable game this evening, the opener of a relatively meaningless series in Camden Yards against an Orioles team that got buried back in May.

Nick Swisher got three hits. Robinson Cano doubled twice. And Andy Pettitte retired the first twenty hitters he faced before fate, and the law of large numbers, caught up with him.

There have been eighteen perfect games in the history of the Major Leagues. No pitcher has ever thrown two. The last time two pitchers threw one in the same year was 1880. And in an age where every single record and every single star is doubted, it is perhaps the only record besides DiMaggio's hitting streak that is cheat-proof.

And that's because there's just so many different little things that can go wrong.

For instance, the average major league fielder has a fielding percentage of somewhere between .920 and .980; the average major league hitter has an on-base percentage of about .330; and even the very best major league starting pitchers allow an average of more than a base-runner per inning.

The field is not made of smooth substances, but rather dirt and grass, which can cause bad hops. A bench coach or infield coach can move a shortstop three steps this way or that, and the ball can get hit right to them - or right to where they were standing before.

And even the most durable ballplayers sometimes need a night off over the course of a 162-game season. And no matter how good the tenth man is, he's still probably not as talented as the starting nine. And he's probably rusty.

Enter Jerry Hairston, Jr.

Two outs, bottom of the seventh, Pettitte has been absolutely unstoppable so far. He throws a 1-1 cutter to Adam Jones, and it's not spotted perfectly, but Jones still beats it into the ground, directly to third base. Alex Rodriguez, still feeling the after-effects from his February hip surgery, is not on the field. Girardi felt like resting him today.

His replacement, Hairston, can play six defensive positions well. To this point in his time with the Yankees, since his trade here on July 31, he has not made a single error.

The ball takes a slightly funny hop on the lip of the infield grass, hangs in the air a little bit longer than Hairston expects it to, and bounces off the heel of his glove, and then his rear, and past him into short left field.

E-5.

The no-hitter is still intact. But Pettitte is rattled, and the inevitable hit comes off the bat of the next Oriole to come to the plate.

Hairston's new nickname for the week is Fusili Jerry (and if you've seen the Seinfeld episode I quoted at the top, you'll understand why and probably cringe a little as you laugh).

There's no blame to go around. This is just baseball. There's a reason only eighteen pitchers have thrown a perfect game over one hundred thirty-three years and about five hundred thousand individual starts. It's as close to impossible as any feat in sports.

And all there is left to do, in the aftermath, with this routine 5-1 victory is ask "What if?"

I'm absolutely convinced Andy would have gotten it. I mean, I know I'm just being a homer because he's my favorite pitcher on my favorite team, but the way he looked for the first twenty hitters? I'm sure he would have finished up.

This game is torture.

I love this game.

The Beatdown in the Boogie-Down (or, The Weekend that Made Us Men)

Tom Schecter — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 04:15:05 -0400

It took four nights to answer a year's worth of questions.

The stakes were unthinkably high for a series in early August. This series wasn't going to be the run-of-the-mill battle for bragging rights. It was even going to be about more than the division title that was almost absolutely at stake already, a month and a half before the season's end.

It would be about justifying the $420 million committed to three big-name players in November in an attempt to shift the balance of power back to the Bronx after watching the Yankees go home early for the first time in over a decade.

It would be about whether the team could keep Derek Jeter's lofty promise to bring the venerable ghosts from the old Cathedral with them into the new Stadium.

It would be about the team's biggest star, and biggest distraction, finally coming up big in big moments.

It would be about a star rookie coming of age, gutting out a victory on a day when his best stuff was nowhere to be found. And it would be about an aging veteran proving that he still had enough left in the tank to earn the full balance of an incentive-based contract, and the full measure of respect he felt he deserved from the front office.

It would be about the Big Picture. It would be the defining answer to the question every fan faithful to the pinstripes needed to know:

Did these New York Yankees, by far the best of any team in the league on paper, have what it takes to be Champions?

It took four hot, sweaty nights against the most hated of rivals, in the earliest must-win series in recent memory, to announce to the world of baseball that the answer is a resounding Yes.

Thursday—Yankees 13, Boston 6

The weekend began with an ugly, badly-pitched game that lasted at least an hour longer than anyone really wanted to watch.

On the winning side of the record was 23-year-old Joba Chamberlain. The big right hander was shaky from the start, walked a career-high seven batters, and was forced to work hard for every single one of the 15 outs he got.

In every one of the first three innings, the Red Sox put two runners on base. They came away with one run. And the two they scored in the fourth would make very little difference.

After the Yankee offense exploded for eight runs in the fourth, Chamberlain walked the bases loaded and give up a run with one out before finally, mercifully striking out the last two hitters he faced.

He spun and punched the air, triumphantly, and then sagged as he walked from the mound, relieved to have his run support, knowing that it hadn't been pretty. It would be Boston's last true threat of the day.

The losing pitcher was 42-year-old John Smoltz, a mighty warrior with a World Series ring and a couple of Cy Young Awards, but a shadow of his former self as he struggled to recover his command after Tommy John surgery in 2008.

His breaking ball spun, instead of breaking, and his once vaunted fastball was a few miles short. Five straight runners reached base against him to start the fourth, and when all the damage was done he would be held responsible for seven runs over three and a third innings pitched.

The Red Sox cut him on Friday.

If that was Smoltz' last start, it was a sad day for the game. Anyone who saw him dominate the National League East for an entire decade, then voluntarily move to the bullpen—eschewing his chance at 300 career victories in the process—and continue to dominate the division from there, could not doubt his toughness or his greatness.

Here was a Man. He will certainly have earned his place in Cooperstown when they vote him into the Hall.

Friday—Yankees 2, Boston 0 (15 innings)

And now, a little trip back in time to June 9, 2009

A.J. Burnett walked into Fenway Park...and got so amped up after giving up a home run to David Ortiz that he sped his delivery up to almost twice its usual time to home. Needless to say, he had no idea where the ball was going, and gave up four more runs very quickly before getting the hook in the third inning....

Burnett's big question mark when he came to the Yankees was the number of pitches he has thrown in the playoffs in his career (that would be zero). His big blemish, on the eve of the biggest start of his career, was his tendency to overthrow in big situations (like in Fenway, twice in the first half).

His task on Friday night would be to stand toe to toe with one of the three best pitchers in the game, who'd made his bones beating the Yankees time and time again and was sure to allow their offense next to nothing.

And whatever happened, he must not blink.

By the time Girardi came to take the ball, with two outs in the top of the eighth, Burnett had crowned himself the staff's ace. He allowed one hit, a leadoff single. He walked six Red Sox, and stranded them all on base. No runs had scored. He had faced down Beckett, and his own adrenaline, and become the pitcher the Yankees need him to be.

But he would not get a win. Beckett was just as good for Boston through seven innings, and for seven more the bullpens stifled their opponents, back and forth, neither side willing to give an inch or able to force a runner across the plate.

By the fourteenth the Red Sox had used every pitcher in their bullpen besides Japanese rookie Junichi Tazawa. The first hitter he faced was his childhood hero Hideki Matsui. He retired his idol, and then he got into trouble.

With two on and one out, Girardi gambled and emptied his bench, pinch-running for weary catcher Jorge Posada at second base. But the rally was cut short by a magnificent leaping catch. The game continued.

With two outs in the bottom of the fifteenth inning, Alex Rodriguez stepped to the plate.

Through scandal and injury, Rodriguez has played through the worst statistical season of his career with a new, serene look on his face. He seems finally to enjoy his teammates' company—especially fellow ex-Ranger Mark Teixeira.

Perhaps with Teixeira taking some pressure off of his shoulders he has found some equanimity. Or perhaps by the bottom of the fifteenth, he was just too tired to over-swing.

The towering home run fell into Boston's empty bullpen. Burnett, still on the bench watching the drama unfold, was there to administer the de rigeur reward for a walk-off hit: a whipped-cream pie to the face.

Rodriguez laughed, mugged for the camera, and let the whipped cream linger on his face as he finished his postgame interviews. It was the first time he'd ever looked so much like a Yankee.

Saturday—Yankees 5, Boston 0

If you look really closely at his delivery, the difference between CC Sabathia's most dominant performances and his poor outings exists within a fraction of a second. When his release point is perfect, he can place his fastball anywhere he wants at 95-97 miles per hour.

When he's off, he releases the ball an almost imperceptible moment earlier and it flies high and off-target towards the first-base side of the plate by several inches.

Sabathia had predicted in an interview before Saturday's game that his best work of the season was ahead of him. After an inconsistent month of July that saw him go 3-3 with a 4.62 ERA, and an ugly victory in the series finale in Chicago, there was plenty of room for improvement.

Boston's prized young right-hander Clay Buchholz battled valiantly through six innings, allowing only two runs on six hits in a tough-luck loss. Against almost any other pitcher an outing like that might have gotten him a win.

But Sabathia, true to his confident word, allowed only four baserunners in seven and two-thirds innings, striking out nine along the way, and the Boston bullpen continued their struggles in the late innings of the Yankees' third straight victory in the series.

Other stars included captain Derek Jeter, who hit a two-run home run in the eighth inning to put the game away, and Robinson Cano, who had three hits.

The game saw a bit of controversy unfold in the seventh, when Boston reliever Ramon Ramirez was ejected after throwing a fastball high and tight to Mark Teixeira, then hitting the next batter, a fellow named Rodriguez, in the back with a high, inside fastball.

Fox's crack announcing team of McCarver, Buck, and Rosenthal, truly a modern-day Three Stooges, argued briefly whether Ramirez' actions were intentional, vengeance for a fastball that hit Dustin Pedroia on Thursday night, and unanimously came to a nonsensical conclusion that to them seemed obvious—that Boston manager Terry Francona would certainly not risk another baserunner in a close game.

After all, as the Reverend Ozzie Guillen teaches, sometimes you have to take an eye for an eye, no matter what.

I'm not suggesting Francona gave an order. My theory is that Ramirez acted on his own, trying at very least to intimidate the Yankees into yielding the outside part of the plate a la Pedro Martinez, circa 2003.

And certainly, I think the ejection was hasty, but understandable from the umpires' point of view; a middle-reliever doesn't ever get much benifit of the doubt when he throws two fastballs in the vicinity of an arch-nemesis' biggest stars.

The moment mattered very little, in the scope of the game, and would serve as little more than a darkly humorous counterpoint to the high drama that would unfold in the finale.

Sunday—Yankees 5, Boston 2

Andy Pettitte and John Smoltz have a combined twenty-eight postseason victories between them.

They faced off twice in the Torre Dynasty's first World Series, in 1996, and Pettitte beat Smoltz 1-0 in the fifth game of that series to complete a three-game sweep in Atlanta that propelled the Yankees to the championship. Their teams met again in the 1999 World Series, that one won by New York in four games.

Both pitchers are proud veterans, almost certain to be Hall of Famers. Both have witnessed, and made, history. And both had the same thing to prove coming into this season: that they had something left.

Three days after Smoltz' comeback with Boston was well and truly derailed, the most senior member of the Yankees' starting rotation took the mound with the chance to virtually end the Red Sox' aspirations to a division title.

After fourteen seasons of big games, Pettitte's body had broken down somewhat at the end of 2008 and he lost seven of his last nine decisions, helping to bring the Yankees' season to an early close.

Offered a one-year deal at $10 million (down from $16 in 2007 and 2008), Pettitte held out, and eventually signed a deal with a base salary of $5.5 million—with an additional $6.5 million in incentives for a full season's work.

At 9-6 with a 4.35 ERA, he'd more than earned his keep thus far, and was riding a hot streak over his first four starts of the second half.

Opposite him would be Jon Lester, a young lefty who drew myriad comparisons to a young Pettitte. Both had impeccable control. Both were seasoned veterans with playoff experience at a young age. And both were at their best in games where their team's back was to the wall.

At the seventh-inning stretch, there was no score. Pettitte, working constantly into and out of trouble, had thrown ninety-two pitches through his first five innings, but then found enough in reserve to retire the next six hitters he faced with only 20. He'd given up five hits, and struck out four.

Lester had been even better, allowing just three baserunners through the first six innings.

Leading off the seventh inning was Friday night's hero, Alex Rodriguez. For the second time in three days, he hit a monstrous home run to left field to break a scoreless tie. Lester finished the seventh inning without further damage, but it seemed his brilliant night would also go to waste, like Beckett's and Buchholz' before.

Phil Coke, Friday's winner, came out to pitch to Ellsbury in the eighth inning...and then almost inexplicably stayed in to face the next four hitters—all right-handed. Phil Hughes was nowhere to be found.

Pedroia singled, and newly-acquired slugger Victor Martinez hit a home run to snap Boston's scoreless streak at 31 innings, and give the Red Sox a 2-1 lead. After another single, Coke coaxed a double-play grounder out of Jason Bay, but left the field trailing.

Fire-thrower Daniel Bard, Boston's answer to Phil Hughes and/or Chamberlain, retired the first two batters he faced on soft ground balls. Four outs separated the Red Sox from new life.

Then the ghosts came out. And the first form they took was that of an old Boston hero.

"Don't swing harder, swing quicker." - Joe Morgan

A 1-1 fastball, ninety-eight miles per hour, flies from Bard's hand into the strike-zone, knee-high on the inner third. Damon swings quicker.

Tie game.

Bard, obviously spooked, resolves not to throw a fastball to Mark Teixeira. The first slider floats in the middle of the strike zone. Teixeira lays off. Strike one.

The second slider floats in the exact same spot. Teixeira is ready for it. His slight uppercut does the moment justice; the ball flies high over everything, seeming to take forever to land in the second deck. 3-2 Yankees.

Bard, completely undone, walked Rodriguez and was pulled. Okajima allowed two more runs to cross the plate before the inning ended.

In trotted Rivera. Ballgame over.

Analysis

At first glance, this is the telling comparison: the Yankees' bullpen allowed four runs in fourteen and two-thirds innings, for a series-long 2.45 ERA. Conversely, in four games and nineteen and a third innings pitched, Red Sox relievers surrendered fifteen runs, giving the American League's best bullpen a 6.98 ERA for the series.

With as much emphasis as the Red Sox placed on upgrading their offense for the stretch run, they left their pitching staff in a state of disrepair that cost them mightily in all four games.

The loss of Masterson (in the Martinez trade), combined with Smoltz' ineffectiveness and the injuries to Matsuzaka and Wakefield, has taxed the remaining members of the bullpen. The Red Sox' pitching staff no longer looks like it can even contend for more than three days out of five.

But in reality, the biggest difference between this series and the eight Red Sox victories in the first half, was the Yankees' starting pitchers. From Friday night to Sunday night, the Yankees starting pitchers held Boston's offense scoreless for 22 and 2/3 innings.

Beckett, Buchholz and Lester were just about equally good, allowing only three runs in twenty innings. But the true eye-opener comes from comparing this weekend to the Yankees' starters' ERA over the first eight games of the season series, when they up thirty earned runs in just 38 and a 1/3 innings—a 7.04 ERA.

The playoff rotation of Burnett, Sabathia, Pettitte, and Chamberlain is a Big Four that absolutely no one in the major leagues wants to face right now. And it's official—after this weekend, it's no longer premature to start talking about the playoffs.

With 51 games to play, a six-and-a-half game lead is historically pretty safe. With the competition reeling, and our team fully healthy for the first time in months, the division title is New York's for the taking.

And now that they've proved themselves against the only foe that really matters, the very sky is their only limit.

One Hundred (And One) Games Deep, Yankees Right Where They Belong

Tom Schecter — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 23:35:29 -0400

(The majority of this piece was written around 1 o'clock this afternoon. Wacky computer-related hijinks stopped me from posting until after today's games ended, so we know a little bit more now than we did ten hours ago.)

Two months and 50 games ago, I wrote a review of the first 50 games of this 2009 season and pronounced us in good shape. Within the week, the Yankees went into Fenway Park and had a stroke, lost their division lead, and spent the rest of the month of June and the beginning of July playing catch-up and waiting for the Red Sox to cool off. Just as they regained a tie for first place, they went to Anaheim and lost three games in a row in embarrassing fashion to end the first half of the season.

Since then, they've officially lost Chien-Ming Wang for the year, watched ever more anxiously for stories on Toronto trying to move Roy Halladay, and in the midst of all of that ripped off a 10-2 start to the second half, including a blistering start of eight wins in a row.

Today, as I write this, the Yankees are two-and-a-half games ahead of the Red Sox, and six-and-a-half ahead of Tampa, solidly in first place for the first time since 2006.

In the first 10 games the Yankees played after the break, all at home, they scored just 48 runs, and went 9-1. The difference, of course, has been the pitching.

A.J. Burnett, 5-0 with a 2.01 ERA since June 27, is making himself known as a true staff ace, outshining even his bigger-bodied, bigger-salaried teammate Sabathia—who, last night aside, has been no slouch himself—pitching into the seventh inning in all but three starts this year. Joba Chamberlain has allowed only two runs in his last two starts (13.2 IP), both wins.

And the bullpen has arguably been even better. Phil Hughes has thrown 23 consecutive scoreless innings since the middle of June. He picked up a win in relief against Detroit in the second-half opener, and a week later picked up his first career save against Oakland. Alfredo Aceves and Phil Coke have both pitched to season averages of 1.01 baserunners allowed per inning.

Behind them, Mariano Rivera, with seven saves since the second half began, is putting together another Cy Young-caliber year - if the press would only vote for a closer - Rivera has allowed 36 total baserunners against 47 strikeouts in 42.2 innings, and is second in the American League with 29 saves.

On the other side of the coin, Boston's biggest first-half strength, their pitching, is somewhat on the ropes. Tim Wakefield, their leader in wins, is on the disabled list. Brad Penny remembered that he's Brad Penny. John Smoltz, at 40-years-old and coming off shoulder surgery, is no more than a sub-par fourth starter—a monumentally disappointing potential finish to a Hall of Fame career.

Boston's offense has struggled to the point where GM Theo Epstein felt the need to trade for two more decent bats in the last week—former Pittsburgh 1B Adam LaRoche and former St. Louis OF Chris Duncan.

Neither is particularly impressive. Neither would start on the Yankees or the Rays. Trade talks concerning San Diego first baseman Adrian Gonzalez have apparently stalled.

Now, early on in the season, I prophesied Toronto's midseason fall from contention. I should have also known to make a similar prediction for Tampa Bay.

In 2006, after winning the World Series the year before, the Chicago White Sox' pitching staff fell apart. Their 2005 team ERA was 3.61, with a 1.25 WHIP (baserunners per inning). Their 2006 team ERA was a full run higher (4.61), and their team WHIP rose to 1.36 baserunners per inning. They missed the playoffs that year.

In 2007, a similar fate befell the AL Champion Detroit Tigers—although it might also have been because they wouldn't let Kenny Rogers cheat anymore. Their team ERA rose from 3.84 to 4.57 and they missed the playoffs. Verlander, Robertson and Bonderman all missed a considerable amount of time, and were less effective when they pitched.

The 2008 Rockies, a year removed from "Rocktober," were derailed by the implosion of young ace Jeff Francis, saw their team ERA rise from 4.32—respectable, for Coors Field—to 4.77 and missed the playoffs.

What we see here, folks, is a trend of teams with great young pitchers making runs deep into October, throwing their guys an extra 20-odd innings a piece in the highest-pressure situation imaginable, and then seeing their arm strength regress the next year.

So the Rays, with their rotation chock full of star pitchers all in their mid twenties—and recovering from their first postseason—are a little tiny bit screwed. Kazmir, Shields and Garza are a top-three that any team would kill to have for the next six years. Just don't expect too much from them down the stretch this season.

(NOTE: Cole Hamels' early-season woes in Philadelphia are along this same line, but with the ascension of J.A. Happ as a force in the rotation and the Cliff Lee trade, the Phillies have largely dodged that bullet. As of today, they're the team to beat in the National League, even over Torre's boys in Los Angeles.)

(UPDATED - 11:15pm...Yankees 6, Rays 2 / A's 8, Red Sox 6)

With the Yankees' victory tonight, they leave Tampa Bay up by seven-and-a-half games and the AL East race is effectively down to two teams. Boston is not nearly as impressive right now as they were in the middle of June.

They've just lost their second game in a row to Oakland (see above, Brad Penny remembering that he's Brad Penny), and the law of large numbers says there's no way either team wins or loses more than 12 or 13 out of an 18-game season series. Our season-high lead of three-and-a-half games looks pretty safe right now.

Barring a train-derailing injury, or Roy Halladay moving to Massachusetts, the Yankees are the prohibitive favorite to win the American League East.

Now, if only they can figure out how to win in California.

Mariano Rivera: The World's Most Interesting Closer

Tom Schecter — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 20:56:36 -0400

(CAPTION: He doesn't always bat, but when he does...)

To be quite honest, I’m not one hundred percent sure why I’m writing this right now. Everything that could possibly be said about the man has already been said a hundred times, and by better writers than myself.

And in a week where Mariano Rivera’s 500th save will be getting coverage from every sports network in the known universe, the odds are long that I’ll have an original take on the story.

But I’ve been watching the guy for fifteen years now—fifteen years we’ve been given the opportunity to watch this magnificent bastard work his magic—and I’ve got a few things to say.

First, I’d like to tell you about the first time I ever saw him pitch, because Mariano Rivera was the first blown call of my career.

It was June 11, 1995 at Yankee Stadium, we were playing Seattle, and a new guy I’d never heard of was starting for us. Here’s how the game started off: single by Joey Cora, single by Alex Diaz, home run by Edgar Martinez. No outs, three runs. Rivera was gone in the top of the third, and his performance prompted me to shake my head in disgust and remark to my father, “That guy will be back in the minors very soon, and will never be back.”

I was wrong. Just a little bit. And every time I hear “Enter Sandman” I thank God I was.

Over the last fifteen years, Mariano Rivera has been called everything from “illegal” (Tom Kelly, former manager of the Twins) to “alien” (Eric Neel of ESPN), to the greatest postseason closer in history (no need for quotations there, everyone's said that at least once).

But on an occasion where they’ll be trying to put the greatness of Mariano Rivera into one complete thought, I’d like to submit this one:

On Sunday night, a friend of mine compared him to the guy in the Dos-Equis commercials – The World’s Most Interesting Man.

The more I think about it, the more if fits – this aging Spaniard who’s got all these goofy, ridiculous, amazing, Chuck Norris-sounding legends surrounding him and he’s just sitting there, acting cool, taking it easy, because he knows he’s the Spanish Chuck Norris and doesn’t have to prove himself to anyone. (And he doesn’t always drink beer. But when he does…well, you’ve seen the commercials.)

Mariano Rivera has saved 500 regular season games. He has a lifetime ERA of 2.30 and will likely strike out his 1,000th batter - an unheard-of milestone for a reliever - some time this season. He has saved 34 postseason games and has an October ERA of 0.77. And of course, with numbers like that come four World Series rings for his Yankees.

He's the greatest of all time. And he's probably the only person in the world of sports who hasn't said so this week.

You’ll never see a cooler guy than Mariano. He’s a quieter version of Derek Jeter. And he’s the one guy I’ve ever heard sound genuine when he says he’s been blessed to have his career. His favorite thing about Sunday night is being able to jokingly brag about his first career RBI.

He knows he doesn’t have to prove himself, because he’s the Chuck Norris of closers, and surely we’ll spread his legend without him having to say anything at all. We have so far.

So on this occasion I say, stay thirsty, Mariano. And congratulations.

We’re all blessed to have seen you.

Coming Home to Daddy: An Argument for Pedro in Pinstripes

Tom Schecter — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 16:53:14 -0400

We've hated him for a long time. From the time he arrived in Boston from Montreal in 1998, Pedro Martinez has been among the most prominent names on the Empire's list of public enemies.

From 1998 to 2000, he went 60-17 with a 2.25 ERA and an unearthly 11.49 strikeouts per nine innings, giving the Red Sox arguably the best pitcher in the American League. Though his numbers declined afterward, he remained a thorn in the Yankees' side and Boston's most prominent face of the rivalry for years afterward.

He opened up one game in 2003 by hitting Alfonso Soriano and Derek Jeter back-to-back. Both had to leave the game. Then, in that year's ALCS, he threw septugenarian Don Zimmer to the ground in the middle of the Game Three brawl that helped define the series. He was on the mound when the Yankees made their last miraculous comeback of the Torre Era six days later.

And he seemingly forced his way into a middle-relief role to make sure he was on the mound for at least one inning of the final game of the Yankees' collapse the next year.

Four and a half years, several injuries, and another Boston championship later, the 37-year-old Martinez is a free agent, and the Daily News is reporting that Yankees' scouts are among those pursuing his services. Looking down at the shocked, angry comments from the users on the bottom of the page, this seems to be the most unpopular idea in New York in, well, maybe ever.

But I think we should get him.

OK, let me qualify: I think, if the only cost of having Pedro Martinez is the $3 million or so he'll likely demand, it's a gamble that Brian Cashman should take.

I'm not arguing for the ouster of Wang (or Hughes, as the case may soon be) from the rotation. I'm not sure Martinez has the arm strength or the durability at this point in his career to even be a starter anymore. But he did throw six scoreless innings in relief during the World Baseball Classic; I say we add him to our bullpen.

The other option, with Wang's ineffectiveness forcing the Yankees' hand as far as keeping Joba Chamberlain in the rotation, seems to be trading for another proven reliever before the deadline, but that's a move that will cost the Yankees prospects as well as money. Kerry Wood is the biggest name who's likely to be available, and Cleveland is going to require plenty in return.

Signing Martinez as an extra weapon in the bullpen adds insurance in case Bruney's arm doesn't hold up, or in case either Aceves or Coke hits the skids. And it costs, in Yankee terms, next to nothing.

Plus, the move offers an added bonus in the potential that Martinez could be called upon in the late innings of a big game against Boston, shut them down, and drive every sports fan in New England a little bit crazier.

I don't see how we can pass.

The Tale of Two Brains (or, I Wonder Which Team Will Show Up Today?)

Tom Schecter — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 13:18:19 -0400

The week ended in one of those laugher, sigh-of-relief games that every Yankee fan is used to...and every opponent dreads.

The play-by-play men and color men talk in platitudes like, "You can't keep a lineup this good down for too long." Anyone who was watching the last nine games - nine (well, ten, but for the rain) I had tabbed in my head as the most important stretch of the first half - can't help but be very nervous, and can't help but know that there are absolutely guys who can keep a lineup like ours down for very long. We can do it ourselves.

We've seen most everyone in the American League by now, at least once. I think we've seen every contender. We spanked Detroit in their house. We spanked Toronto in their house and started them on a slide that has dropped them to third in the East. We beat the Angels two out of three, and Texas four out of six.

But these three series (Tampa, Boston, Mets) were supposed to tell us where we are, and if they did, we're in a lot of trouble. We needed two late inning comebacks, one against Tampa and one against the Mets, both aided by the other team's sloppy defense, just to finish 4-5. And we still haven't beaten Boston yet this year. Not once.

(Okay...remember a few weeks ago when it was just five in a row and I wasn't ready to talk about it? Now I'm ready to talk about it.)

I wrote the first draft of this piece on Thursday night, when I was still mad. I wrote it entirely as an airing of grievances aimed at all the goats from the sweep at Fenway. I called it "The Stroke Series," because between my rising blood pressure and the fun little commercial starring two surgeons removing a smoking-related blockage from some poor bastard's renal artery, it seemed appropriate. I had gone outside after the game ended and had two or three rage-fueled cigarettes anyway.

"I'll take the stroke, right now," I wrote. "Anything but this."

We went into Fenway Park and hit about .100 wih runners in scoring position for the series. Which would have been bad enough, but just to make things a little bit more frustrating, two of our starters managed to throw a combined 153 pitches to get only sixteen total outs in the first two games.

A.J. Burnett walked into FenwayPark looking for revenge from Round 1 and got so amped up after giving up a home run to David Ortiz that he sped his delivery up to almost twice its usual time to home. Needless to say, he had no idea where the ball was going, and gave up four more runs very quickly before getting the hook in the third inning of Game One.

Chien-Ming Wang is so deep in his own head right now that I think the Yankees may have to help him fake an injury to get him back to Triple-A for more "rehab," if we ever want to get him back as a starter this year. He was, well, just kinda bad, and got pulled for Hughes in the third inning of Game Two.

This, of course, forced Girardi's hand - by the time Sabathia walked Dustin Pedroia in the eighth inning of the third game, even 130 pitches deep into the game, he was still probably Joe's best option. One more single to J.D. Drew opened the floodgates, and a huge blown call on a pitch from Aceves to Kevin Youkilis that was clearly strike three made that comeback all but inevitable.

Yes, I'm really calling an umpire out. Aceves threw the same pitch again, four pitches (and two hits, and two runs) later, to that exact same location, and this time got a called strike. And so to James Hoye I say this: from the bottom of my heart, thank you for at least getting it right the second time, even after the first one cost us the game. You're a real pro.

(I watch way too much baseball. I've seen almost fifteen hundred games on television. I saw my first game at the new Stadium on Monday, and got to see Andy Pettitte live for the first time in my life. And I was going to write something about that, too, about how the new place is a little too Disneyland for my taste, in comparison to the dark, brooding, fear-inspiring Gothic Cathedral that was the old Stadium. But I can't really write that now, because I watched a game on TV Thursday night and actually called a better, more consistent strike zone from five miles away than the home plate umpire did. I feel like the 1997 Braves.)

But the reason I'm still furious, even after five days, is not the umpiring or the managing but simply because we walked into Fenway Park and froze under the lights. Well, not froze, exactly. Every time we had runners in scoring position, every single hitter we sent up to the plate decided to swing for the fences. A.J. decided to throw as hard as he could, and he didn't know where the ball was going. We tried to do too much, and it cost us. We looked ridiculous. Brad Penny shut us out for six innings.

So, in the aftermath...Where are we? Where is this Yankee team going?

There are two faces - two brains, even - to this team. These two different mindsets have been at odds in a battle for the Yankees' soul since the beginning of 2004. One is the Derek Jeter Brain. The other is the Alex Rodriguez Brain.

The Alex Rodriguez Brain feels the need to be the hero in every situation. This comes from a place of good intentions, not a selfish place, but in every big spot these guys grip their bats a little tighter, breathe a little heavier, and try to hit every pitch they see into outer space. Or, for the pitchers, pitch away from contact and try to strike out every batter they face in a big spot. A lot of our guys seem to allow this feeling to creep into their subconscious in big spots. And the young guys, especially when they're going good, tend to start playing this kind of game too.

Saturday against the Mets, every single swing the Yankees put on a Nieve fastball was a "pull the ball into the short porch in right" type of swing. Even Melky! - dear, sweet Melky who spent all of May making a name for himself by hitting clutch singles to the opposite field - got into that act against Nieve. We hit six or seven fly balls to the warning track. We lost the game 6-2.

Five years ago, that approach cost us a pennant, in two games full of extra innings against Boston's bullpen where everyone tried to pull any fastball they saw for the game-winning home run. In high pressure situations, the team has gotten into the habit of taking that approach. And every game against Boston is a high-pressure situation.

But for a blown strike call in the third game, and for Posada's drive off Papelbon being five feet higher and longer and hitting the wall, we may have taken two out of three this week. We are as good or better than Boston is, when we don't all turn into Alex Rodriguez at the same time.

Ironically, A-Rod was the one guy who got a big hit in Fenway, in the seventh inning of Game Three. Two outs, two on, and he fouled off a few tough two-strike pitches from Delcarmen before drilling a full-count fastball into the Monster. Didn't try to do too much, just leaned back and hit a line drive.

One more thing: the day Alex Rodriguez locks into his Derek Jeter Brain, if it ever happens, is the day the Yankees become unstoppable. He's that good, and that dangerous when he's going good, and if he ever stays out of his own head for an entire postseason it makes this team an absolute lock for a championship.

But I have a feeling that until he does, we're still in trouble.

Yankees Season in Review: The Biggest Stories from the First 50 Games

Tom Schecter — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 15:08:37 -0400

Hello friends, sorry it's taken so long for me to get back on the horse and write a new article. I've been hard at work on my music, and should be releasing my first solo EP, entitled Disparition, some time in mid-July. You can hear rough mixes from the record at http://myspace.com/tomschecter. The first fifty games of this season have been fraught with ups and downs, but on Friday night, the Yankees did something they'd never done before under Joe Girardi - in fact, something they hadn't done since the last day of 2006: they took sole possession of first place in the American League East. Things are looking up. And so, full of piss, vinegar and optimism, I give you my review of the first fifty games of this 2009 season.

Begin Slideshow

Yankees Week in Review: April 20-26

Tom Schecter — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 14:51:41 -0400

It's too early to say we're in trouble.

At this point we're 9-10, with 143 games left to play in a very long season. We've seen the losing end of a couple of horrendous blowouts, along with moments of futility with runners in scoring position, and a Jekyll-and-Hyde bullpen that can dominate days at a time or surrender six runs in the span of an inning depending on, I don't know, how the stars are aligned, and we're 9-10 with 143 games left to play.

It's too early to say we're in trouble.

But we just got swept in Fenway, and lost our eighth-inning guy along with our second-string third baseman to injury. We miss A-Rod badly right now. We miss Chien-Ming Wang, who as it turns out, was injured when he stunk up the joint for his first three starts in a row. Most of all we miss having the grisly spectre of Joba Chamberlain in the bullpen to scare the hell out of our opponents.

Tonight, for the third, and hopefully final, time we re-introduce who should be our answer: Philip Hughes.

Am I jumping the gun by painting a 22-year-old as the savior of this early season?

Not quite.

Hughes has already won a playoff game in pinstripes, relieving for an ineffective Roger Clemens in Game Three of the 2007 LDS, and earlier that season pitched 7.1 innings of no-hit ball before tearing his hamstring in that fateful eighth inning. He's posted a 19 to three strikeout to walk ratio in Triple-A Scranton in his first outings down there, and had a similarly impressive spring.

He's ready to go. He was ready in March.

John Harper of the New York Daily News has already said a successful stint from Hughes will help make the decision to return Chamberlain to the bullpen easier for the Yankee brass to make. Those of you who've been with me on this issue since the beginning of preseason will grimace at the stat in this article about Chamberlain's performance in Friday night's game. More on that later, after we've covered the happier times early this week, when we were too busy spanking the A's to worry about all this other stuff.

April 21: Yankees 5, A's 3

I loved the ovation Jason Giambi got in his first at-bat. I loved that he tipped his helmet in acknowledgement. I loved Brett Gardner making a ridiculous over-the-shoulder catch to rob him of extra bases and an RBI even more.

Speaking of Gardner, the second inning was another showcase for the killer instinct that's making him a fan favorite early on. After his web gem in the first inning, he drove in two runs with an opposite-field single, stole a base, and scored a run as the Yankees batted around on the still-green Dana Eveland.

Gardner wasn't the only brilliant defender on the night. The A's looked to be ready to strike back in the top of the third inning, with runners on first and third with nobody out. That was until Mark Teixeira fielded a hard ground ball, stepped on first, and threw home to nail Kurt Suzuki for an unconventional double play.

Great awareness by Tex, great throw, a play Giambi would absolutely not have made, and sloppy baserunning by Suzuki. Plays like that cost teams playoff berths, especially in a wide-open AL West.

Pettitte, even while failing to strike out a batter, got through seven very impressive innings, pitching out of a jam in the seventh after Ransom booted a hard-hit, but catchable ground ball. Pettitte gave him another chance, forcing another grounder to third with two outs that Ransom played perfectly. Fine performance by my horse. Cody owes him a steak.

As an aside, the A's bullpen looks really, really good. They've got some magnificent arms that are maybe a year away from peak performance. Watch out for Andrew Bailey, a Wagner-Staten Island product who throws in the 97-99 range with an absolutely evil breaking ball and changeup to back it up.

April 22: Yankees 9, A's 7 - 14 innings

We got away with one today.

Sabathia was sloppy throughout this game. The defense was shaky, and the hitting was the very opposite of timely. Posada vacated home plate with Giambi on third in the third inning, forcing Jeter to throw to nobody and allowing the only unearned run of the seven charged to Sabathia to score.

In the bottom of the seventh inning, in a 7-7 tie, the Yankees loaded the bases with nobody out - only to be beaten by Russ Springer's AARP Card, who struck out Cabrera and induced two pop flies to escape unscathed and force a little bit of overtime...

(Sorry, wrong sport...my head is in the hockey playoffs a little bit.)

Today's hero was Jose Veras, of all people, who pitched 3.1 scoreless innings and seemed to finally find his command after a couple of ineffective outings on the road and the first loss against Cleveland on Thursday. Veras walked the first batter he faced and then retired ten in a row, taking the Yankees all the way through the 14th in a game where they were nearly out of relievers. Steven Jackson was set to make his debut in the 15th before Melky Cabrera hit his second home run of the day—a rocket off a first-pitch fastball from Dan "Hey You" Giese - to win it in the bottom of the 14th.

Giese had walked Nick Swisher to lead the inning off by throwing seven straight breaking balls. Everyone in the stadium and TV audience knew the first pitch to Melky was going to be a fastball. Melky probably had the same idea.

On to Boston with plenty of momentum. What could possibly go wrong?

April 24: Red Sox 5, Yankees 4 - 11 innings

"The worst panics ensue when the things we take for granted stop working for just a minute." - Leo McGarry, The West Wing, Season 3, Episode 8.

Part of Mariano Rivera's new approach to right-handed batters this year has been throwing his cutter to the inside corner for mostly called strikes. The one danger to this approach is that if you miss your spot, just by three or four inches, the ball cuts right to the middle of the plate, likely belt-high. That was the location of the pitch that Jason Bay hit to dead center field to tie the game in the bottom of the ninth inning. Rivera missed.

It literally happens to the best of us. Now, everyone stop freaking out.

Remember that very disconcerting statistic from the Daily News piece that I teased in the opener? Here it is: Joba Chamberlain threw 91 pitches on Friday night. Only two of them were swung at and missed. Because he's holding back to conserve his energy and work deeper into a game, he's throwing five miles slower than he did coming out of the bullpen for an inning or two at a time.

His fastball is, sadly, ordinary at 91-92 miles per hour, and there's less of a gap in velocity between that and his breaking ball, so he's not as effective.

When the Sox swung, they hit the ball. That's not the Joba we're used to. I'm done talking about this until after Hughes pitches tonight.

April 25: Red Sox 16, Yankees 11

A 6-0 lead in the fourth inning disappears after Jason Varitek's Desiccated Corpse hits a grand slam. My dreams of an incredible pitcher's duel between the two ex-Marlins, Josh Beckett and A.J. Burnett, are dashed.

Very, very dashed. And it only gets uglier from here.

9-8 Boston after six innings. Both starters are done. Now we get to see how the bullpens stack up. The Yankees break through for two runs against Manny "Kinda Being Manny" Delcarmen. 10-9 Yankees going into the bottom of the seventh. Which Yankee bullpen shows up? Mr. Hyde. To the tune of seven more runs in two innings.

Albaladejo is the goat today. Bruney is unavailable, placed on the disabled list with an elbow, and between Edwar Ramirez, Damaso Marte, and Dave Robertson, the Yankees just barely get through the eighth inning without just saying "Uncle!" already. The only Yankee reliever not to give up a run is Phil Coke. Coke pitched in the sixth, got two outs, and likely got replaced too early.

Know what would be nice? If we had a lights-out reliever who scared the hell out of everyone, that we could trot out for two-plus innings if we desperately needed to hold a lead against our most hated rival. Michael Kay, do you still think having a quality fifth starter is more important than a quality setup man?

I'm really done talking about this now, really.

April 25: Red Sox 4, Yankees 1

Jacoby Ellsbury is a freak, in that good way that infuriates opponents. The chutzpah of stealing home with the bases loaded notwithstanding, it was the first time he scored, in the third inning, that made me a little crazy.

This guy is so fast that facing pickoff-master Andy Pettitte, with a short lead, he still managed to steal the a base easily. From there, Pettitte's concentration was broken, just enough to make the difference. I have to give the guy credit. He single-handedly won that game for Boston.

Also, Masterson looked like the real thing last night, in the way that Clay Buchholz did that one time he threw a no-hitter. The Red Sox are not likely to miss John Smoltz if he never shows up.

Big Picture: Nobody is scared of Toronto just yet, and the Rays may be going through a little bit of a postseason hangover. Alex Rodriguez is starting a rehab assignment this week, and our lineup will get longer and scarier when he returns. It looks, at this point, as if the battle for supremacy in the American League East is going to come down to baseball's oldest rivalry once again.

We got embarrassed this weekend, but Boston comes to town for two games next week (May 4-5). We have plenty of opportunities to make up lost ground. This weekend means nothing, really; it's just three bad games in April.

But I hate losing to the Red Sox.

Coming Up: Three against Detroit and four against the Los Angeles Angels of California, Nevada, New Mexico and the Federated States of Micronesia.

Rangers-Capitals, Game Four: The Henrik Lundqvist Game

Tom Schecter — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 09:03:12 -0400

I've never written a hockey column before. I just want to put that disclaimer down.

In fact, I've only been following the Rangers for about two seasons. I hadn't seen a minute of hockey since the 2000 Cup. (Or 2001? Which one did Ray Bourque win with Colorado? Somebody comment on this, please.)

However, I accidentally watched the third period and overtime of the Chris Drury Game at a friend's apartment while pre-gaming for a night out and found myself surprisingly heartbroken, and hungry for more. The day the Rangers signed Drury—July 1, 2007—I resolved to start watching a little closer.

Nights like last night make me so, so grateful that I did.

Yesterday afternoon, as I was out having a cigarette during the interminable Yankees-A's finale, ruminating on what the Rangers would have to do to win this first-round series and make it to Boston, two things came to mind.

First, the Rangers absolutely had to take Game Four at home. No low-seeded team could survive the epic crash-and-burn of winning the first two games of a series on the road, taking all of that momentum back to their house, and getting beat twice at home to even the series. It would be too draining. Especially for a club that lives and dies with the energy of their forecheck and the force of their will, losing last night's game would have spelled the end of the season, just like Buffalo's miracle comeback killed the 2007 team.

Second, as hungry as Washington was going to be, as much blood as was in the water after Monday's 4-0 thrashing, a game like this was going to be one of Those Defining Moments for a goaltender who's already thought of as one of the best in the league.

There are nights in postseason sports that can belong only to goaltenders and starting pitchers. A baseball team with its back to the wall turns to their best pitcher and says, quite simply, "Save us." A hockey team that's having trouble scoring and is desperately trying to stay in a series turns to its best goalie, and says "Save us." The reward for success? Entry into that pantheon—not just elite guys, but elite postseason guys. The price of failure? Your season is over.

My point, inside my head, was this: Henrik Lundqvist was going to need to play the game of his life.

To a guy who's relatively new to watching the sport, the fluidity of hockey makes it more difficult to follow the play-by-play than any of the other three major American sports. Take last night's first Rangers' goal, for example: a faceoff won by Brandon Dubinsky to Paul Mara, shot and deflected off of two bodies and past Varlamov.

(The call from the booth, by the way? "Here's the faceoff...AND THEY SCORE!" Thanks, guys.)

All of this is to say, there are only a few moments in a game where you'll be able to know in advance that something huge is about to happen. So, I don't really know what to say about most of the thirty-eight saves Lundqvist made last night. I don't know how they got brought on.

The one that's going to hold in everyone's memory is late in the second period, Ovechkin dropping the puck back for Alexander Semin for a shot from...I don't know, twenty feet away?...and even as the crowd gets into "uh-oh" mode Lundqvist is already snaring it in his glove at full extension while doing a split.

Big picture: through four games, Washington has outshot the Rangers 149-99. They've scored one more goal, thanks entirely to their 4-0 victory in Game Three. I predict this series to be over on Friday night, another one-goal game, with Lundqvist doing the honors yet again. This is his series.

I'm not the only one feeling like this one was special; this morning, ESPN's Pierre LeBrun compared this series to the 1992-93 playoff between the Quebec Nordiques (the Sundin-Sakic-Nolan Nordiques) and the Montreal Canadiens, who had a guy named Patrick Roy. Yes, LeBrun just compared Lundqvist to the second-winningest goalie in history, a winner of multiple Cups. And yes, he wrote it as if history is repeating itself.

Henrik Lundqvist has an Olympic gold medal. He's been the best player on this Rangers team all season, and all last season. He'll get his Vezina votes, year in and year out, and he'll win one eventually. And even after all that, after last night's performance, calling him simply "one of the best in the league" may not suffice anymore. We've just seen his ceiling get raised.

That was what last night was about. That's the reward for winning that defining game - you take the first steps to becoming a legend.

And you don't have to know too much about hockey to know one when you see one.

New York Yankees' Week in Review: Apr. 13-19

Tom Schecter — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 16:46:28 -0400

CAPTION: With an ERA above 30.00 (yes, really) over his first three starts, Chien-Ming Wang has quickly become the biggest question mark in the Yankees' pitching staff.

One week and seven games further into the 2009 season, the Yankees are sitting rather comfortably at 7-6, one game above .500 for the first two weeks. They've won or tied three of their first four series, including an impressive showing in a three-game road stand against the defending American League Champions.

The hitting has been more than adequate, the bullpen has been solid in most of their big spots, and Alex Rodriguez' return to the lineup may come sooner than the mid-May timetable the doctors originally projected.

Sabathia, Burnett, Chamberlain, and Pettitte have been very, very good, combining for seven quality starts out of their last nine chances.

All in all, the Yankees have a lot of reasons to be optimistic right now, but one big problem has surfaced here in the early going: Chien-Ming Wang has been awful, and nobody really knows how to fix it.

The signs of trouble are everywhere. His arm angle is more three-quarters than over the top, sending his sinker spinning sideways instead of down. He is reportedly shortening his leg-kick off the mound, leading to a rushed delivery.

All of these things are likely due to the same cause: either his right foot—his plant foot—is still bothering him, or he doesn't trust it yet.

No matter which of those things is true, the course is clear: The Yankees need to put him on the disabled list, and I mean pronto.

Wang needs a month in Triple A-Scranton to get used to his mechanics again. Since he doesn't have any options left in his contract, the only way to get him down to the minors without him having to clear waivers (a virtual impossibility) is to put him there on a rehab assignment.

With Phil Hughes available and ready to come up to the bigs, there's no harm in letting Wang take his time and return to form before he steps on the mound in another meaningful game.

Some notes and observations from this week's games...

April 13: Rays 15, Yankees 5

I have a personal mercy-rule when it comes to watching baseball. You can tell almost immediately, over the first two innings, if a pitcher is on his game. Kazmir was on his game on Monday night. Wang wasn't. I turned the game off at 10-1 and didn't lose much sleep over it.

Sadly, I missed the debut of that new middle-reliever named Swisher that we traded for over the winter. Apparently he's also our right fielder. I'm sure I'll get to see him play again, just hopefully not on the mound.

April 14: Yankees 7, Rays 2

I have quite a few nice things to say about this Tampa Bay club. The one I'm going to mention right now is that Matt Garza's ALCS Most Valuable Player award was no fluke.

This is a guy who was born to pitch big games against big clubs. I like pitchers who show emotion when they make a bad pitch and get beat; it's why I tolerated watching the Yankees throw Jeff Weaver out there week after week in 2003. It was obvious he cared.

Garza, obviously, has better command of, well, all of his pitches, so that's an added bonus. No kidding, he's the real thing. Tampa's entire pitching staff scares the hell out of me.

I'd like to apologize to A.J. Burnett. I believe wholeheartedly that he'd have finished his no-hitter had I not sent a few friends text messages telling them to turn on the game.

Sorry, big man. Never do it again.

Third, as much press as Jeter's three-run homer in the ninth inning got, the hit that impressed me more was the one right before his: Brett Gardner drove a breaking ball on a line to the wall in dead-center field, over the head of the inhumanly fast B.J. Upton. Most impressively, he hit that pitch with two strikes, and two outs, in a one-run game in front of a hostile crowd.

Gardner has ice water in his veins. Love this kid. Love him.

April 15: Yankees 4, Rays 3

I'm going to continue to gloat about my prediction for a big season from Andy Pettitte. With the exception of a bad string of at-bats in the third inning (not unlike Burnett's seventh the night before, allowing three straight hits and two runs to tie the game), and Carlos Pena's solo shot in the fourth (Pena, to his credit, owns Andy.

That matchup worries me looking forward to October), the big veteran was right back on his game, pitching into the eighth inning and leaving with the game tied at three.

Jeter did what he always does, it seems, in the ninth inning. So did Mo.

The fun part was watching Cody Ransom score the winning run after a big hit in the ninth.

Also fun was watching Robbie Cano take a two-strike pitch from Andy Sonnanstine and deposit it over the wall about three feet left of dead center on a line. That ball traveled 425 or so feet on a line and could have gone a hundred feet farther had it not collided with the back wall in center field. Hardest hit ball of the year to date.

(By the way, when I write these 'as expected' comments about the big guys, I want you to take them in the following way: Jeter, Pettitte, Rivera, and Posada have been heroes so often it no longer comes as a surprise. They are going up on the wall when it's their time. That's already written.

At the same time, I won't get on them for blowing big spots either. This game is all about the law of large numbers. My thing is, I like to focus more attention on the younger guys around them and see who might join them in 15 years, is all. Cool? Cool.)

April 16: Indians 10, Yankees 2

It's official: Bernie Williams is one hell of a guitar player. Is there anything the man can't do?

Paul O'Neill, David Cone, and Tino Martinez got probably the loudest cheers from the first audience ever to set foot in the new Yankee Stadium. Other well-loved notables: Berra, Randolph, Boomer Wells (who sat in the bleachers for the game!) and Goony Bird Larsen.

Posada hit the first home run. Damon got the first hit. Sabathia struck the first batter out. The Indians put up the first ever nine-spot in the seventh inning and won the first ever game. Cliff Lee took the win. Jose Veras took the loss. Damaso Marte took a whole lot of abuse. My buddy Jon Goldsmith better have taken a lot of pictures.

April 17: Yankees 6, Indians 5

There's something funny going on in this new stadium. Every ball hit to right field looks like it has a chance of leaving the park. Friday, the Yankees took advantage, to the tune of five different solo home runs from Teixeira, Damon, Cano, Melky Cabrera, and finally Jeter to beat the Indians in the second game of the series.

Joba Chamberlain looked a little off, walked five batters and didn't make it through the fifth inning. The bullpen inherited a 5-3 deficit and shut the Indians out the rest of the way (4.1 innings), making up for their less than stellar performance on Thursday.

Bruney continued to be awesome (he has an .045 batting average against him for the season so far) and picked up the win in relief.

Big cause for concern: New York is 1-20 over the first two games of this series with runners in scoring position. But for the good luck of the five solo home runs, this would have been a very different ballgame.

Rivera struck out Mark DeRosa looking to end the game. Mark DeRosa got angry. Mark DeRosa spent the last few years in the National League and doesn't understand that Mo gets that call, every time, on every close pitch, because he's earned them with years of throwing nothing but strikes.

Someone should get DeRosa a copy of that memo.

April 18: Indians 22, Yankees 4

I was at a table at a Cracker Barrel (no kidding) on my way to UConn-Storrs campus when I got an irate phone call from the aforementioned Jon Goldsmith.

"Are you watching this?"

"No, I'm actually in a Cracker Barrel right now. What's up?"

"The Indians just scored 14 runs in one inning!"

I didn't see any of it. But I knew who the starter was. Wang, bless his heart, was apparently only responsible for the first half of those runs. Jon and I yelled into the phone at each other for a few minutes, agreeing how badly Wang needs to go on vacation, and then we hung up.

I got a text message an hour later that read, simply, "20-2."

I don't really want to talk about this anymore, except to say, condolences to Anthony Claggett.

Nobody deserves to get thrown into a shark tank like that on their first day in the big leagues, with the lineup you're facing already smelling blood...well, really, having already devoured a whole live pitcher and hungry for more. Nobody's ever ready for that. Don't blame yourself.

(By the way, kid, next time? The appropriate first pitch is a crop-duster. Put the first batter you see on his ass. Start a brawl. Wake your guys up. Change the momentum before the lead is completely insurmountable.

Yes, this theory is taken directly from hockey. There will be a column about it another time this spring, assuming with crossed-fingers that the Blueshirts can hold on and beat Washington and I get a chance to write about them.)

April 19: Yankees 7, Indians 3

And so, for the third time in as many starts, A.J. Burnett takes the ball after an ugly Yankee loss and...wow, he really walked seven batters? Guy brings a new meaning to the word "unhittable."

Seriously, folks. Six-and-a-third innings pitched, three hits, seven walks. Nolan Ryan would be proud.

I'm not going to rag on Burnett. He's been the best pitcher in the rotation thus far, and he's earning a reputation as a stopper. Between him and Pettitte, and obviously Sabathia, we will get exactly as many quality starts as we paid for. The bullpen will get its rest.

Other happy moments: Posada hits a pinch-hit home run (to right field, the record-setting 20th between the two clubs in four games) to give the Yankees the lead in the seventh; Cody Ransom comes up with the bases loaded and two outs in the eighth and benefits from that right field-blowing wind another way...the wind pushes a potential foul ball fair down the left field line for a bases-clearing, game-icing double.

So...4-3 for the week, and even though the three losses were all lopsided, this reporter is not worried. But he does want to see Wang skipped for his next turn in the rotation, and he expects to see his boy Philly Hughes in the Bronx pretty soon.

NEXT UP: Two vs. Oakland (after last night's rainout), and three big games in Fenway this weekend. Stay tuned...

New York Yankees Week In Review: April 6-12

Tom Schecter — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 13:59:40 -0400

Some notes and observations from the opening series of the 2009

OPENING DAY: Orioles 10, Yankees 5

Well...C.C. Sabathia was a disaster this afternoon. His breaking ball looked spectacular, but if he can't locate his fastball, he's as good as useless on any given day. His velocity on the pitch was down around 90-91, and he couldn't throw the first-pitch strikes he's used to. In short, he looked nervous, like at the beginning of last year when he was pitching for a contract.

The rest of the team wasn't particularly impressive; a four-run eighth inning given up by the bullpen, a couple of runners failing to advance in big spots. Teixeira and Ransom, in particular, looked like they were trying to do too much with every pitch they swung at.

Bright spots? Posada looks healthy; he threw out Roberts trying to steal (no small feat) and looked comfortable and hungry at the plate. Cano was locked in. Nick Swisher had a great at bat pinch-hitting late in the game.

The Yankee plate approach looks intact: See a lot of pitches and make the bullpen kill itself for four innings instead of having an easy two. I liked that everyone was trying to hit the ball to the opposite field. I won't miss Giambi's compulsion to pull everything he sees.

April 8: Orioles 7, Yankees 5

Wang looked like he didn't know the 2007 ALDS was over...I think he was wondering where Torre was when Girardi came to get him in the fourth.

The bullpen was awesome. Hands down, this is the best collection of arms we've had since the Stanton-Lloyd-Mendoza crew in the late 90s. The Orioles will absolutely live to regret turning Tex around to hit right-handed against Sherrill in the ninth. Maybe as soon as tomorrow.

Matsui looked pretty bad. Cano looks awesome. Gardner could stand to work a couple more walks. Ransom is hitting the ball hard, right at people. Jeter is (sigh) not as fast as he was two or three years ago. Where's that Rodriguez guy?

April 9: Yankees 11, Orioles 2

As soon as Burnett got Huff to swing over that 3-2 slider to get out of a bases-loaded jam, I knew the Yankees would win this game. His stuff is filthy. I can't wait to see him face off against Beckett or Penny in a few weeks. He looks like he's relaxed, and he looks like he loves being a Yankee. The fist pump when he walked off the mound was Joba-esque.

Speaking of fist pumps...Swisher is my new favorite Yankee. Three big RBIs and a hilarious post-game press conference will do that real quick. Nice to have a big, goofy personality in the clubhouse who's more talented than "El Sid" Ponson.

Tex hit a home run to the opposite field. Cano hit a home run to the opposite field. Jose Molina drove in a run on a single to the opposite field. Watch for this pattern to continue revealing itself in most of the Yankees' wins this season.

Another strong performance by the bullpen. Since the eighth inning of Opening Night, eight hitless, scoreless innings. I'm a happy boy. Things are looking up. Rivera ended the game by striking a dude out looking on a back-door cut fastball. Consistently 91 mph at 40 years old. He's so good.

April 10: Yankees 4, Royals 1

Anybody doubting my man Pettitte right now? Anyone? Out of the No. 4 spot, facing the Ponsons of the American League, he should win at least 20 games. He also really knows how to pitch. I'll say it again: He's the real thing, and he's hungry. If he stays healthy, he'll be in the running for a Cy Young. Out of the No. 4 spot, no less.

Three switch hitters with pop in the middle of this lineup. Tex, Jorge, and Swish. Gardner, Jeter and Damon are all going to score 100 runs if Gardner gets on base a little more often. When A-Rod gets back, there's not a starter in the league who's going to enjoy facing us.

Too many lefties in a row for the Royals. David DeJesus is the early favorite for the Bip Roberts Award, given each year to the most hilariously unlikely third or cleanup hitter in the league. (Quick quiz: for whom did Bip Roberts hit cleanup in 1996? Yes, of course, it was the Royals).

April 11: Yankees 6, Royals 1

Okay, now I understand why we got Sabathia. Up five miles per hour on his average fastball. Six singles in seven and two-thirds innings. First-pitch strike after first-pitch strike. I'm sold. We're in great shape.

Posada is on a tear. I knew we missed him last year on the field, but as Michael Kay continues to mention every five minutes, we missed his bat terribly as well (more on Michael Kay later).

As lost as Matsui looked all week, Swisher's continued destruction of the Royals' pitching staff makes me think he'll be starting more often than Godzilla by the end of the month. I could be wrong. Girardi seems to think he'll snap out of it. I've seen him go into exactly this type of slump before, where he pulls off every single swing, and I assume the skipper's right.

I just don't want to wait too long while we're already forfeiting three at-bats a game with Ransom.

April 12: Royals 6, Yankees 4

After watching three Yankee relievers blow a one-run lead in the bottom of the eighth inning, Kay decided that the top of the ninth was the appropriate time to scoff at how much more important a quality fifth starter was than a quality eighth-inning setup man.

Joba was decent in his six innings, but with Hughes absolutely ready to go, and the Yankees guaranteed to hold their breath through every close game all year until the change gets made, I again implore Cashman and Girardi to see the light, call up the other kid, and make Joba the heir apparent to Mo in the bullpen.

Three to six blown late leads can kill an entire season. We can't let this keep happening.

Beyond that, I'm optimistic. Let's hope Wang can return to form tonight in Tampa.

Yankees Retrospective: The Last Night of the Joe Torre Era

Tom Schecter — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 15:06:40 -0400

CAPTION: Behind him stand the faithful, 55,000 strong, giving him one final grateful salute.

It's March 31. Opening Day for the new Yankee Stadium is a mere two weeks away, and Opening Day for the newly rebuilt Yankees is in six days. Another typically tumultuous offseason is drawn to a close, another few hundred million dollars has been spent, and another few scandals have rocked our Evil Empire to its core - perhaps none so deeply and cruelly as the third-person tell-all written under the name of the greatest hero of the most recent Yankee dynasty, Joe Torre.

I don't mind that Torre wrote a book about his time in pinstripes. I don't care that he took the opportunity to embarrass people he felt had it coming to them. My only comment on the situation is this: Torre's claim that if he'd gotten the players he wanted, the Yanks would have won a few more championships is nothing more than bitter second-guessing.

Except for that he's right. The Yankees' championship teams of the late 1990s were built on pitching, pitching, and more pitching. The second half of the Torre Era was littered with big names on offense, shaky pitching staffs, and early postseason exits.

And none of them more frustrating than the last one.

October 8, 2007: ALDS - Game 4

(Note - I found the following recollection of this game on my office computer as I was cleaning out my desk this morning. So anything in the present tense in this piece is dated from (I assume) October 15, 2007 - the day Torre stepped down.)

I remember in 1995, after the Seattle series, reading about Don Mattingly sitting at his locker, hobbled by his bad back, saying quietly – almost to himself – “If this is it, it’s a hell of a way to go.” A week later, he hung it up.

I watched another era end on October 8, 2007. Tell you the truth, that was the only thing that was really registering. The only other thing I really remember from the game itself was the bottom of the 9th: Jeter, of all people, trying to put a home run swing on a ball he desperately needed to hit for a single (fly out to deep left-center, one out). Then, after Abreu’s solo home run came A-Rod’s warning-track fly out to right, and finally Posada’s upper-deck shot (“Foul! by half a foot, and the count is 0-2…”) followed by the horrific realization that the well was dry. The Mystique was gone. There would be no miracle comeback. In fact, the next pitch was absolutely going to be strike three.

And it was. And the anger set in. But that wasn’t as important tonight. Tonight was all about Joe Torre.

I’ve watched about five hundred games over the last four years, and at least a thousand over the last ten. I’ve watched every playoff game the Yankees have played in my lifetime. I’ve skipped classes, skipped work, whatever I’ve had to do. I was at Game 2 of the 2004 ALCS, sitting in Section 39 with the Bleacher Creatures, and John Olerud’s home run landed twenty feet from where I was sitting.

I’d actually been in the Stadium the day before, watching Game 3 from the left-field bleachers as Johnny Damon and young Philly Hughes gave us one more chance to come back and win the series.

But it was getting to be over now. Wang had been terrible, and poor old beat-up Mike Mussina hadn’t been able to reprise his magical relief appearance from 2003. And now, the Yankees had their backs to the wall, down 6-3 in the top of the 8th inning of what would be the final game of the ALDS, with a little-known rookie pitcher named Jose Veras on the mound and in trouble. One more run was going to end it for good; our backs would break. You could hear the desperation in the stands even through the TV. Joe Torre was walking out to the mound to talk the kid down and give Mo some more time to warm up.

I was getting drunk. It was reflex. I had turned to Jack Daniel’s in Game 4 of ’06 when Jaret Wright, Sidney Ponson and Corey Lidle almost combined to throw five whole innings in an elimination game. I was so proud of them that day I could have puked. Maybe I did. And I was working my way towards that point again tonight. We were done.

I don’t know when I noticed the sound coming through the TV, the call coming from the seats all over our beautiful Stadium.

I had heard all the reports over the past 48 hours about how George Steinbrenner, in his aging, demented glory, had told a reporter that he didn’t think our manager would be offered a contract to come back next year if the Yankees lost this series. My instinct was to dismiss it; every report said the old man’s son Hank was running the team now and he surely wouldn’t be foolish enough to dismiss a legend as his first act...would he?

Then why are we all standing?

From the crowd comes a final, heart-rending salute.

JO-OE TOR-RE! (clap clap clapclapclap) JO-OE TOR-RE! (clap clap clapclapclap)

Torre stays focused. There’s no way he doesn’t hear the crowd but he has a job to do. He walks over to Veras, and the rest of the team – Jeter first – circle around them, waiting for word, or advice, or strategy – or maybe just wanting to be standing next to him right now.

Yankee fans know how to thank their heroes. And as incomplete a team as this is, everyone knows we were one less swarm of bugs away from winning Game 2. Nobody’s blaming Torre. They’re blaming bad luck. They’re blaming the lack of pitching. They’re blaming Alex Rodriguez, maybe, but not Torre. Nobody in this stadium – nobody in this city – can imagine life without him.

Joe Torre is the Yankees. Like Jeter is. And Rivera and Pettitte. And Bernie.

And like Mattingly before them.

I started to cry, then and there, in the bar. I knew what this goodbye really meant. A piece of what made us the Yankees was going to be gone, soon, unless we could find a way to come back.

And I shouted for Veras to get out of it, and save our guy from the ax. And I shouted for Rivera to get us through the ninth, to give the old magic one more chance to work.

Not that it ended up mattering. Torre’s gone now, seven days later.

It was a hell of a way to go.

Yankees Retrospective: The Aaron Effin' Boone Game

Tom Schecter — Wed, 18 Mar 2009 16:10:56 -0400

CAPTION: Every Yankee fan remembers this picture. So does Tim Wakefield.

March 18, 2009

Before the New York Yankees and Houston Astros started their preseason matchup today, one of the Astros announced his semi-retirement from baseball.

Aaron Boone is set to have open-heart surgery later this month to repair a congenital heart defect—a bicuspid aortic valve—and has likely played his last game.

Boone, 36, a third generation ballplayer and brother of three time All-Star 2nd baseman Bret Boone, had a rather mediocre 12-year career with the Reds, Yankees, Indians, and Marlins. But in New York City, he'll be remembered forever as the author of the last great October moment of the Joe Torre Era.

October 16, 2003—ALCS: Game Seven

It was the game everyone had expected. Even after the Yankees took two games out of three in Boston to take a 3-2 lead in the American League Championship, nobody really expected the series to end in Game Six. And after a 10-7 slugfest the night before, the fiercest rivalry in sports was going to come down to two of the greatest pitchers of a generation—the most hated by either opponent.

Boston's Pedro Martinez had started a brawl in Game Three by throwing inside one too many times, made a gesture that looked like he was threatening to hit Jorge Posada in the head, and had thrown the Yankees' 70-something-year-old bench coach Don Zimmer to the ground. Opposing him on the mound for New York was former Red Sox ace Roger Clemens, now a three-time World Champion with the Yankees and public enemy No. 1 in Massachusetts.

Both pitchers were still dominant—the 41-year-old Clemens less so, but still the natural choice for a do-or-die game against anyone the Yankees might face. Yankee fans could recall his brilliant, gutty performance in their last Game Seven—a heartbreaking World Series game snatched from their grasp in the bottom of the last with the untouchable Mariano Rivera on the mound. Clemens had lasted long enough to give the Yankees a lead. Nobody expected anything less from the veteran this time.

The Red Sox had become the real thing, finally, in 2003 with the addition of surprise slugger David Ortiz and good enough pitching to play the Yankees to a standstill through 19 regular season games and six more in the playoffs. Ortiz, along with Manny Ramirez and shortstop Nomar Garciaparra, gave the Red Sox arguably the best 3-4-5 tandem in any lineup in the league.

The Yankees had added Hideki Matsui and Jason Giambi to a lineup that had struggled to score runs in 2000 and 2001, but the Red Sox were thought by most to have the superior offense. It was six-to-five and pick 'em; the only advantage the Yankees had was home field and, if they got that far, Rivera.

(You'll notice, dear reader, that I've not mentioned our hero once yet in this flashback. If you haven't heard the story before, it's hard to imagine just how insignificant the addition of Aaron Boone appeared to be at the trade deadline—he was barely an upgrade over the departed Robin Ventura, and certainly wasn't well-loved enough to be any kind of replacement for the recently retired Scott Brosius. He was on the bench for the start of this game. Enrique Wilson was the starting third baseman, for Chrissakes!)

Three innings in, Pedro Martinez was as good as advertised, and Roger Clemens was not. Down 4-0 in the fourth inning, with nobody out and two runners on base, Joe Torre replaced Clemens with Mike Mussina—the loser of Games One and Four. It was, potentially, an ignominious end to a storied career.

Clemens walked off the field with his head down. The stadium was quiet. The Yankees were screwed.

But Moose got out of it, somehow, and too slowly a comeback began. Jason Giambi led off the fifth with a home run, and hit another solo shot two innings later. Mussina held the Red Sox scoreless through four innings. It was 4-2 after seven innings, and momentum was slowly turning...

Or not.

David Wells entered the game in the eighth and promptly gave up a solo home run to Ortiz, who began his run as a Yankee-killer in this series.

The Red Sox were six outs away from the World Series with a three-run lead, and Martinez was still going strong. Other than the two Giambi homers, he'd been unhittable. Vintage Pedro.

But as good as he was, his surgically-repaired arm was starting to age, and the trick to beating Martinez was to outlast him—his ERA was a full three runs higher once he'd thrown 100 pitches. And when Grady Little sent him out to start the botom of the eighth, he had thrown 102.

And so this is how it went down:

A double by Jeter with one out. An RBI single by Bernie Williams. 5-3. And here comes Grady...and now he's sitting down again! Everyone remembers this part. Pedro has talked Little into letting him keep pitching.

Let your best guy win or lose the game for you. Old school.

But every Yankee fan knew we had him right there. It was beautifully inevitable. Double by Matsui into the right field corner. Runners on second and third, still one out. And finally, Jorge Posada on a 2-2 fastball, bloop double into the triangle between second, short and center. Both runners score. Tie game.

(I know. Still no Boone. He doesn't even sub in until after Martinez gets taken out. Bear with me. He's coming.)

Alam Embree comes in and gets Giambi to fly out. Ruben Sierra pinch-hits for Enrique Wilson and draws a walk. Our hero pinch runs for him and gets all the way to second (on another walk) before Soriano grounds out to end the frame.

Here comes Rivera. The Red Sox make him work to get out of the ninth, the 10th and the 11th. Three innings. Fifty-two pitches. No runs. ("There's no way I was coming out," he will say later, drenched in champagne. The kind of thing you expect to hear from the Greatest Of All Time.) We're still tied. Tim Wakefield—the winner of Game One and Game Four—and his knuckleball are still doing what they're supposed to do.

Bottom of the 11th inning starts with little fanfare. Everyone on both sides is looking to the 12th to be the deciding inning. The top of the Yankees order is almost up. They might even come up this inning if Wakefield's suspect control disappears for a...OH MY GOD!

Time stops.

Look at the picture on top of this article. Here's what the caption could say: "The first pitch of the bottom of the 11th is a knuckleball that doesn't knuckle, and everyone knows it's gone the moment it leaves the bat. Oh, by the way, the batter is Aaron Boone."

The 2003 Yankees did not win a championship, and Aaron Boone was released in February 2004 after tearing an ACL in a basketball game. The guy who replaced him is far, far more talented, and will forever be more famous—even if only for his flaws.

Boone won't make the Hall of Fame. He won't be remembered as anything more than an average ballplayer. But he earned a nickname that night—really, a middle name. (It's not fit to print, so we'll go with "Effin'.")

He shares it with superstars like Joe D. and the Mick, and fellow also-rans like Bucky Dent. He shares it with all the pinstriped heroes of the past hundred years who time and again brought the Boston Red Sox to their rightful place—second.

Yankee fans never forget their heroes. Best of luck, Booney. And thanks for the memory.

2009 Yankee Baseball Preview, Pt. 2: The Starting Nine

Tom Schecter — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 17:05:11 -0500

CAPTION: Yankees fans are getting tired of seeing this face on the back cover of the Post every day. Those of us who still read, at least.

(This article is dedicated to the one and only Richie Rich, whom I wish was still with us, if only so he could enlighten us further about the way things are in the world, and what a geek I am for making sense.)

What a difference a month makes. I was planning on writing this in the beginning of February but things just kept getting pushed farther and farther back behind schedule, mostly because I have a job that takes me out back and shoots me with a 9-gauge shotgun of a deadline every March 1. My apologies. Let's review what we've learned in the month that's passed:

1. Alex Rodriguez used steroids while he was with the Texas Rangers, from 2001-2003. The fact that those Rangers lost about 95 games each year he was on the team becomes even more damning evidence that Alex is a selfish player - a good teammate would have shared, no?

2. Brett Gardner has gotten off to a hot start, hitting two home runs thus far in preseason and positioning himself to win the starting center field job over incumbent Melky Cabrera.

3. Alex Rodriguez still has no idea how to contain himself when he talks to reporters, to the point that he went on the record and said he wished Jose Reyes was leading off and playing shortstop for the Yankees (momentarily forgetting that the guy playing there right now is pretty good, and pretty popular...what's his name again?).

4. Joba Chamberlain will be the fifth starter in the Yankees' Opening Day rotation, instead of my preseason pick Phil Hughes.

5. Alex Rodriguez will be out somewhere between ten weeks and four months with either a cyst or a torn labrum in his right hip, will or will not require surgery or try to play through it, and will likely be replaced in the lineup by the lethal combination of Cody Ransom and Angel Berroa.

(By the way, Rodriguez still has nine years and up to $275 million left on his most recent ridiculous contract, and if his lower body starts to break down due to aging, PED-abuse, or any combination of the above, the Yankees are on the hook for every day and every cent.)

6. I picked a bad month to quit drinking.

Let's call this column what it is. Without further ado, I give you...THE STARTING EIGHT AND A HALF.

When the rumor of Rodriguez trying to play through his injury came out, my friend and statistical adviser Justin Fox said, "That sounds like he'll be back by Memorial Day and done by [July] 4th."

So, worst-case scenario, where do the Yankees stand without their cleanup hitter in the lineup indefinitely? What on earth are we gonna do with a lineup that includes Brett Gardner and Cody Ransom, on top of the big question marks surrounding most of the remaining regulars?

Is Jorge Posada's shoulder going to be able to withstand 90-100 games behind the plate? Are Matsui's knee problems behind him? Will they ever be? Has Johnny Damon ran into one too many walls? Which Robbie Cano shows up? Him most of all - if the Yankees are to muster some offense in A-Rod's absence, Cano and Nady are going to have to come through in a huge way.

What would I do if I were in Girardi's chair? It's time to use the speed we have at the top of the order and try to play a little National League-style ball...or at least as close as the Yankees are ever going to come to trying it.

1. Brett Gardner - CF

Although he's showing more pop than expected in his position battle with Melky Cabrera, it's Gardner's legs that earn him the job here - he amassed 13 SB in limited action after his call-up last fall. That could project to 40-50 if he fouls off enough pitches to earn a few walks. Even a mediocre on-base percentage will produce plenty of run-scoring opportunities when he's a threat to go first to third in a single at-bat, and the guys behind him are proven hitters.

2. Johnny Damon - LF

The regular leadoff hitter, in any regular circumstance. He's still guaranteed to hit at least .290 with 10-15 home runs and a solid on-base percentage, even at 36, and his downright terrible arm won't be so exposed in left field as it was in center.

Most importantly, Damon's still a decent base-stealing threat—certainly 20 SB is squarely possible—which provides a great complement to Gardner's raw speed. Count on these two guys to drive pitchers crazy when they get on base, leaving them less focused on the bigger, scarier bats ahead...

3. Derek Jeter - SS

Yes, I know. I'm a crazy, crazy man who knows nothing about baseball. Derek Jeter hasn't hit more than 20 home runs since 2004. He's driven in 100 runs a grand total of...let's see...once in his career (1999). But he's good for at least a .300 batting average, and with the protection of someone a little more menacing than Bobby Abreu, he'll get enough good pitches to hit that 15-20 homers and 90 RBI is absolutely possible.

If nothing else, his batting average will go up—Jeter is the first to admit he's not a power hitter because he likes to hit too much. Seeing better (more generous) pitches would pay some dividends.

4. Mark Teixeira - 1B

(Hey look everyone, a switch-hitting first baseman with a sick glove who hits a guaranteed .280 with 30 HR and 100-120 RBI! Can we keep him?)

We've already covered how happy I am to have Tex in pinstripes, but now he's got a much, much bigger role to fill in the offense. Count on his numbers to be lower than average these first few months of the year, as pitchers will tend to be much more careful pitching around him now that they don't have the grisly specter of Rodriguez waiting for them in the on-deck circle.

He's got a good eye, and so he'll still get on base plenty. And he'll still get some opportunities to drive in runs. But don't expect an enormous April or May without A-Rod's bat protecting him in the lineup.

5. Hideki Matsui - DH

If he's healthy, Godzilla can still mash with the best of them. But at 35 years old and coming off his second knee surgery in four years, who can say if he's healthy? We're going to have to wait and see and keep our fingers crossed all year—as we are with a couple other members of this line up (Damon, Jeter, Posada) that age and all its indignities does not catch up with the big fella mid-season.

6. Xavier Nady - RF

First of all, did you guys know Nady played 3B in college? (No? Me neither. Let's leave it alone.) Second, here we see a guy who will need to prove his worth in pinstripes very early on—preferably by having a first half comparable to his first half with the Pirates last season. Otherwise, Nick Swisher or top prospect Austin Jackson will get a shot at the position, and Nady will likely find himself in another new uniform by the trade deadline.

7. Jorge Posada - C

Let's be perfectly clear: if we lose Posada for any extended period of time this year, our season is as over as it was last year. No one player—not even Rodriguez himself—is as important to this Yankee lineup than Jorge.

Having a plus-offense catcher is a luxury for most teams (see: Varitek, Jason; Suzuki, Kurt; Kendall, Jason; etc.) and Posada's experience with managing the Yankee pitching staff is irreplaceable, as we learned the hard way last season with the Pudge Rodriguez tragedy. If we lose Jorge, we're done. Jorge is 36 and coming off shoulder surgery. I really did pick the wrong month to quit drinking.

8. Robinson Cano - 2B

Robinson Cano hit .340 in 2006, and around .300 in both 2005 and 2007. My boy Justin Fox himself states, "Much has been made of his woes during the 2008 season, and I won't rehash them here other than to see that save for an offensive lapse of 50 games at the start of the season...Cano played at his previously established level."

The short version: don't worry about it. Count on him to hit around .300 or a little higher and put to rest a lot of the doubts surrounding him after his off-year in 2008.

9. Cody Ransom / Angel Berroa / Eric Duncan / Justin Leone - 3B

Ohhhhh, boy. This is going to be a long first half. Early signs point to Ransom as the starter, as Girardi seems to favor his hard-nosed attitude and solid glove over these other three glowing options. Whoever it is can be counted on to do the bare minimum. Girardi might even send Wang up as a pinch-hitter on his off-days...or do you think the Steinbrenners might not like that?