As expected, Jorge is not in the line-up tonight. He’s at the park and told reporters, “I just talked to Girardi, and I kind of apologized to him. Just had a bad day. Had a bad day yesterday. Reflecting on it and stuff, everything, all the frustration just came out.”
Derek Jeter SS
Curtis Granderson CF
Mark Teixeira 1B
Alex Rodriguez 3B
Robinson Cano 2B
Nick Swisher RF
Andruw Jones DH
Russell Martin C
Brett Gardner LF
Photo Credit: Keep Cool But Care…
Have a laugh…on the house.
It is humid and uncomfortable in the Bronx today. Wet with rain expected into the night. Wonder if the Yanks are hoping for a rainout? That’s not likely and so they’ll be on national TV to face Jon Lester. I expect it will be minus Jorge Posada since he doesn’t have a hit batting righty this year.
Nice job on the whole mess from Steven Goldman.
In the meantime, there’s a Game 7 in the NBA playoffs this afternoon, a welcome distraction.
Eat well, be happy.
Jorge Posada was originally in the Yankees’ lineup for Saturday night’s game against the Red Sox. He was dropped to ninth in the order. Ken Rosenthal said during a 4th inning report on the FOX telecast that Posada was fine with this. “Posada said, ‘I put myself in this spot,'” Rosenthal said.
Apparently, he wasn’t fine. Seventy minutes before first pitch, Posada went into Joe Girardi’s office. There was an impromptu meeting. Words were exchanged between player and manager. Former teammates. The last two men to hold the everyday catching job prior to this season. After their meeting, Posada was removed from the lineup in favor of Andruw Jones.
And so it was that modern methods of information distribution took over.
“At 6 pm, Posada went to Girardi’s office and ‘asked to be removed’ from the DH slot batting ninth tonight. There is no injury.” … So read the initial tweet from YES’s Kim Jones.
Bob Klapisch had an incredible string: “Posada clearly miffed at batting ninth, against Red Sox, on national TV. No doubt angered Girardi singling him out over Tex and A-Rod.”
“Constant, underlying tension between Posada and Girardi finally boiled over …” Wait, what?!? This is getting good.
“Posada initially put blame on himself for lineup change, then took it out on Girardi. No justification for what he did.”
From Ken Davidoff: “For those who ask why Posada got dropped while Jeter, A-Rod, Teixeira spared: Posada is more disposable than those guys.”
And there may be something to that. Jeter won’t be dropped in the lineup. Not now. Not when he’s suddenly figured it out at the plate and has his average up to .267 thanks to 14 hits in his last 10 games. Two weeks ago, he was the guy the Yankees needed to drop in the order. He was the guy who was done.
Now, it’s Posada. Such is life for the 39-year-old, who at .165/.272/.349, is officially the offensive scapegoat on a Yankees team that despite leading the American League in on-base percentage and slugging percentage, entered Saturday’s action with a team batting average of .252, .236 with runners in scoring position, and its best hitter at .285. Posada has looked lost. A player suffering through an identity crisis. Having had to make an abrupt switch from catching 130 games a year to being the team’s full-time designated hitter, Posada has not adjusted well. He’s been open about his struggles to stay mentally focused.
Jason Giambi used to say the same thing when he discussed his troubles hitting as a DH versus his success at the plate when was in the lineup as the first baseman. He’d discuss how it was easier for him to be in the moment; being in the field helped him take his mind off bad at-bats. He wasn’t looking for something to do between at-bats. He didn’t gripe when Joe Torre would drop him in the lineup, usually to 6th or 7th, in an effort to “hide” him. He knew it was a message.
Sherman tweeted that the best comparison he could make to the events that took place Saturday was July 1, 2004, when Nomar Garciaparra refused to suit up for the Red Sox in the epic extra-inning game at Yankee Stadium when Jeter famously tumbled into the stands snagging a Trot Nixon foul pop. He was traded a few weeks later. Word is that the Yankees, if Posada chooses not to play tomorrow, could investigate terminating Posada’s contract.
There was a ton of speculation, ranging from Posada being ready to announce his retirement, to Laura Posada saying the situation was injury-related (“back stiffness”). Jack Curry spoke to Posada’s father, who confirmed that his son was not retiring. Jorge Posada, Sr, said that his son should have played. Cashman, during that FOX interview, said he didn’t know what Posada’s future was, and didn’t want to comment on anything beyond the events of the 6 pm meeting beyond the fact that Posada’s removal from the lineup was not injury related.
We were, and are, left with a series of contradictions. From a baseball perspective, something had to be done, though. Posada was the subject of much talk on WFAN earlier today. During Evan Roberts’ midday show, several callers chimed in saying either, “Take him out of the lineup,” “Move him down in the lineup, because something has to be done eventually,” or “Why not put him behind the plate, have him catch a few games to see if that gets his head right?” Do anything to get him on track to help instill some confidence, which could cause a trickle-down effect in the lineup.
Roberts said, “When is eventually? May 15th? I think you have to give it until July.” We now know “eventually” was May 14th.
The postgame pressers were illuminating: Some highlights from Posada: He saw a chiropractor, said he had back stiffness from taking ground balls at first base and “used that as an excuse to not play.” He went into the manager’s office and said he needed a mental health day. Kim Jones pointedly asked if he was weighing a bigger decision, and he said, “No. I still want to be here. And I love playing for this organization.” KEY: Posada didn’t tell Girardi or Cashman about his back. When a reporter informed Posada that Cashman, during the game, said the situation was “not injury related,” Posada said, “I didn’t know he made a statement during the game. I don’t understand that. That’s the way he works now.”
Girardi’s postgame press conference: Only two questions pertained to the game. Everything else was about Posada. The manager said the conversation was short, and that Posada told him “he needed a day.” He acknowledged Posada’s frustration at batting in the .100s, and how much of a struggle this season has been for him. He said that the situation was one that “we (the organization) would take care of.”
It wasn’t a good night for Girardi, aside from the Posada stuff. He was ejected in the 7th inning after arguing balls and strikes. His team lost its fourth straight game, this one by shutout, and went 0-for-10 with runners in scoring position. Teixeira got just his first hit in 31 at-bats versus the Red Sox. Are we at rock bottom?
Will Posada be in the lineup for the series finale? Posada is 0-for-24 against LHP this season, and the Red Sox are sending Jon Lester to the mound. This could be another mental health day for Posada, who thinks he could play.
The “he said / he said / he said” will likely continue. Especially since Cashman spoke with reporters post-game, which led to the following quotes being tweeted by Davidoff:
“It’s disappointing. Georgie knew what I was going to say (during the game), as did his agents. … It’s a situation created by Georgie and it can be explained only by Georgie.”
Perhaps the most poignant message of the night came from Joel Sherman, via Twitter: “Hardest thing to do in management is handle fading stars as #Yankees finding out with Posada. Ego, history, fan loyalty etc complicates.”
The Yankees don’t need this right now, but unfortunately, that’s where we are. And they don’t need David Ortiz telling reporters that they’re doing Posada wrong. They need their pitchers to pitch better, their hitters, whether or not Posada is in the lineup, to start producing runs in clutch situations, all of which will lead to … duh, winning.
Won’t that solve all this b.s.?
The Yanks showed some fight last night but it was another sloppy game for a team that hasn’t played well in more than a week. Fortunately, C.C. is on the hill tonight. Joe Girardi has rearranged the batting order in the hopes that it’ll kick start the offense. Goes something like this:
Derek Jeter SS
Curtis Granderson CF
Mark Teixeira 1B
Alex Rodriguez 3B
Robinson Cano 2B
Russell Martin C
Brett Gardner LF
Nick Swisher RF
Jorge Posada DH
They’ll have their hands full against Josh Beckett cause the sombitch has been dynamite so far this year.
That won’t stop us from rootin’:
Let’s Go Yank-ees!
It’s gray and wet out there today. Don’t let that stop you though. We’ll be back tonight for more of the raw.
[Photo Credit: Unknown]
Sweet Lou…
Saturday Smooch Edition…
The Rivalry lurched into Yankee Stadium for the first time this year. As you know, for the last ten years she has menaced Yankee fans everywhere, turning every single game versus the Red Sox into an unwatchable slog. Even when a game is tight and fast-paced, the Rivalry will turn it into a grueling 15 inning death march.
Skulking in the shadows behind the backstop, the beast blasted corrosive steam from its nostrils. She stayed out of sight until the fourth, content to let the pitchers dominate the first third of the game. Just when the action seemed to be settling into a liberating, breakneck pace, the Rivalry pounced. Adrian Gonzalez led off the second with an upper deck homer. A powerful display, but too quick for the beast. She sank her teeth into the inning’s nape and shook. Two walks, two strikeouts, two groundouts and a passed ball plated an excruciating run.
The beast stalked the foul line until the bottom of the fifth, when Posada lined a single and Russell Martin lobbed a homer to deep center that arced just past Ellsbury’s leap. It was a lightning quick attack and it came out of nowhere as Buchholz had hickory-smoked the Yanks through the first four innings. The Rivalry has been even handed in her cruelty lately. From then on, the game had that heavy, deliberate, pressure-packed rhythm she preferred.
In the seventh, Joba Chamberlain entered the game for Bartolo Colon, whose biggest sin outside the fourth was allowing a bevy of grounders in Robinson Cano’s general direction. All of them were really tough plays; he made none of them. And when Joba came in, he coaxed two routine grounders. Cano declined to chance a double play on the first for some reason and vacated his position to cover on a steal on the second. Then came a sac fly by Gonzalez and two run bomb by Youkilis.
It’s easy to focus on the crushing homer. But Pedroia’s hit-n-run dribbler is what riled the Rivalry. Why was the second baseman running to cover second base when a 95 MPH fast ball was called for the outside corner? Boston called for the hit-n-run on the 1-0 pitch, the Yanks had to be ready for it on the 1-1 pitch. If the catcher calls a fastball, a Joba Chamberlain fastball mind you, on the outside corner to a righty, the shortstop should cover second base and the second baseman should stay home expecting late contact. Six people made contact in that inning off Joba’s fastballs, five went to the opposite field, one up the middle.
As you know, Chamberlain hit the outside corner with 95 MPH heat as requested. Pedroia tapped it to where the second baseman usually stands, and the inning was set up for Boston’s big bats. They didn’t disappoint.
The Yankees seemed helpless as Buchholz returned to bar-be-queing them after the fifth. Would the Rivalry allow the game to be decided so early? The beast detests tight games, but she also can’t abide stupid baseball. The Yankees played stupid baseball in the seventh, that much was clear. But with Buchholz dealing, the game was in danger of ending in less than four hours.
The Red Sox fed the beast by removing Buchholz and replacing him with Daniel Bard. He let up a lead off triple and wild pitched him home when the Yankees refused to do it themselves. He walked Arod and hit Cano (with a pitch that Robbie came within millimeters of swinging at) to put the tying run on base. The Yankees brought the go ahead run to the plate and the Rivalry was up on its haunches behind the mound, breathing that steam on Bard’s neck.
Then a daring double steal put the tying run in scoring position! The beast likes moxie. Would she reward them with the dam-breaking hit? With two outs, Bard went 3-0 to Posada. He silver-plated two fastballs for Posada to slam, but Posada was afraid to swing. For the Rivalry, that’s unforgivable. Ask Manny Ramirez. I’m surprised Posada managed to ground out. I was sure she would bite him off at the hips.
The beast, swollen now to her full size, pranced around the infield as the Yankees made pitching changes and loaded the bases in an endless top of the ninth. All that was left was for the Rivalry to declare a victor and eat the loser. Papelbon came in to pour the gravy on the Yankees.
The beast must have got distracted for a moment, because the Yankees were about to go down quickly without even bringing the tying run to the plate. With two outs and two strikes, Derek Jeter singled. One more slow churn of the guts. He took second and then scored on Granderson’s single. The winning run was at the plate. The clock ticked towards eleven. And that was enough for tonight. Teixeira chased a high heater and got beat badly. All he could do was pop it straight up and the Red Sox beat the Yankees 5-4.
The Rivalry curled up in the winner’s dugout and went quickly to sleep. She has to work again tomorrow night. Hopefully, she gets bored of this kind of game and migrates to California. Or just dies altogether. In the meantime, it’s a slog.
Tough guys and hard feelings are back in business tonight in the Bronx.
Never mind the bollocks:
Let’s Go Yank-ees!
[Picture by Hannes Kilian Drei Mädchen]
Berg, Eck, ’nuff said.
Over at my VORG site, I ran down the players with the longest names in Major League history. Let’s do that same exercise, but only for the Bombers. A few ground rules first. We won’t include dashes, periods or hyphens in the letter count. We won’t include nicknames unless the nickname was the player’s entire first name (ex. Catfish Hunter would be allowable, Bullet Joe Bush would not.)
Let’s start with first names. The Yanks have had five players with nine letter first names. Everyone’s favorite Brains, Francisco Cervelli, is the most current entry. The Yanks employed Jonathan Albaladejo from 2007-10 (he’s now pitching in Japan, and yes, we’ll again be seeing him later on in this piece). Wormkiller Chien-Ming Wang was a 19-game winner in 2006 and 2007. We next come to Christian Parker, who made one poor start for the 2001 Yankees (but they gladly took Parker and others in order to make Hideki Irabu an Expo). Finally, there is Glenallen Hill, a mid-2000 acquisition who posted a .735 slugging percentage (16 homers) in 143 PAs.
Turning to last names, you might think Doug Mientkiewicz’s 12 letter surname has the honors, but Dougie is beaten out by Bill Knickerbocker. Knickerbocker, a marginal middle infielder in the late 1930s, compiled quite the stolen base record in his career, netting a mere 25 steals in 71 attempts.
Finally, for total name length, Albaladejo’s 18 is matched by Claudell Washington. Washington’s most memorable Yankee moment might have been April 20, 1988, when he launched the franchise’s 10,000th homerun, a pinch-hit job off of the Twins’ Jeff Reardon.
Till next time!
[Photo Credit: Was Watching]
Classic ’90s remixes from Tha ‘Liks:
Here’s Manohla Dargis in the Times on the “it” movie of the moment:
“Bridesmaids,” an unexpectedly funny new comedy about women in love, if not of the Sapphic variety, goes where no typical chick flick does: the gutter. Well, more like the city street that Lillian, a soon-to-be wife played by a wonderful, warm Maya Rudolph, dashes into, dressed in the kind of foamy white gown that royal weddings and the bridal industrial complex are made of. Suddenly realizing in a salon that she’s been hit with food poisoning, she flees like a runaway bride, except that it isn’t a man who’s making her, uh, run, but the giddy, liberating humor of the writers Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo.
…It would be easy to oversell “Bridesmaids,” though probably easier if also foolish to do the reverse. It isn’t a radical movie (even if Ms. McCarthy’s character comes close); it’s formally unadventurous; and there isn’t much to look at beyond all these female faces. Yet these are great faces, and the movie is smart about a lot of things, including the vital importance of female friendships. And it’s nice to see so many actresses taking up space while making fun of something besides other women. Perhaps the biggest, most pleasurable surprise is that “Bridesmaids” doesn’t treat Annie’s single status as a dire character flaw worthy of triage: she’s simply going through a rough patch and has to figure things out, as in real life.
I’m game. Looks like fun.
Sometimes the Yankees’ roster decisions leave me befuddled and bewildered. Not to mention confused. When Eric Chavez went down with a broken foot last week, all signs pointed to the promotion of minor league home run machine Jorge Vazquez. Like Chavez, Vazquez can play both third base and first base. In 139 minor league at-bats with Scranton, Vazquez has hit 12 home runs, which translates into a ratio of one home run every 11 at-bats. So what do the Yankees actually do? They call up no-hit Ramiro Pena, who hasn’t managed to make it into a single game over the last eight days.
Why do the Yankees hamstring themselves in these ways? They now have three shortstops on the roster, one who can’t hit (Pena), and one who can’t throw (Eduardo Nunez). And they really have no adequate backup for either Mark Teixeira or Alex Rodriguez, without, of course, having to take one of their outfielders (Nick Swisher) and play him out of position at first base.
Vazquez would have also given the Yankees another DH option. With Jorge Posada flailing away against left-handers, it might have been nice to give Vazquez a few at-bats as a righty DH. If nothing else, the Yankees might have been able to find out if Vazquez’ free swinging ways would translate at the major league level. Instead, the Yankees gave us Ramiro Pena, who is so valuable that Joe Girardi hasn’t seen fit to use him once in the last week. Criminy…
***
Someone in the Yankee organization needs to come to the realization that Francisco Cervelli is no longer a good defensive catcher. In committing an error and two passed balls in Thursday’s embarrassing loss to the Royals, Cervelli provided more evidence that he is simply not a good backup catcher. A capable defensive catcher through the 2009 season, Cervelli has regressed badly (and mysteriously) ever since. He was brutal defensively last year, and he’s never going to be the kind of hitter who can compensate for his erratic throwing and inability to cut down opposing base stealers.
If Cervelli’s defensive yips continue, the Yankees will need to make a change. Who would be a suitable replacement? Among the unemployed veterans, there’s Bengi Molina. Within the system, there’s always that Jesus Montero fellow…
***
Last week, I polled Bronx Banter readers to vote for the worst Yankee defender they’d ever seen. Some interesting names were submitted, including those put forth by Banter writers Alex Belth and Diane Firstman. Let’s take a closer look at some of the nominees:
Mel Hall: Suggested by Diane, old Mel has bigger troubles these days in prison, where he must serve a minimum of 22 years before becoming eligible for parole, but he was a favorite of mine during the dark days of the early 1990s. Hall tried hard–I never once saw him “jake” it in the field–but he just wasn’t well suited to playing the outfield. He wasn’t terrible at tracking fly balls, but with his heavy legs and sluggish way of running, he didn’t cover much ground. But it was his throwing arm that was truly a spectacle. Hall simply couldn’t throw at all; it made him a liability in left field and an absolute millstone in right field. When Hall played in right, opposing baserunners went first to third like New York City drivers storm through green lights.
Marcus Thames: Another suggestion by Diane, Thames was truly awful as an outfield defender during his one year in the Bronx. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Thames’ bat, particularly the aggressive, attacking style of hitting that reminded me of another onetime Yankee, Glenallen Hill. But Thames was just brutal wearing a glove, as bad as one of Kenny Banya’s comedy routines. On every fly ball hit his way, and I mean EVERY fly ball, I held my breath. He took bizarre routes, ran awkwardly, and had hands shellacked in iron. He would have been better off using one of those Jai alai cestas, one of which I believe Luis Polonia used when he played left field at the Stadium.
Chuck Knoblauch (as a left fielder): An Alex Belth special, Knoblauch became a nightmare at two different positions during his Yankee career. We all know about Knoblauch’s struggles in making routine throws from second base, but his outfield play almost made me long for his return to the infield. He looked uncertain on any fly ball not hit directly at him, resulting in him taking staggered routes, particularly on balls hit over his head. His throwing arm was also poor; he had a good arm as a second baseman with the Twins, but he just didn’t have the arm strength to make the long throws from the outfield toward the inner diamond. I felt bad for Knoblauch; by the end of his career, there was simply nowhere for him to play without causing collateral damage.
Rich McKinney: When the Yankees acquired McKinney prior to the 1972 season, they considered him the third baseman of the future. They failed to realize that the man known as “Orbit” had as much business playing third as I do piloting a plane. On April 22, 1972, McKinney put on a fielding exhibition for the ages. Playing at Fenway Park, McKinney made four miscues at third base. In the first inning, he booted Danny Cater’s ground ball, permitting an unearned run to score. Later that inning, McKinney made his second error, allowing two more unearned runs. In the second inning, McKinney mishandled another ground ball by Cater, with an unearned run scoring on the play. And then in the sixth inning, McKinney committed a fourth error, this time on a Rico Petrocelli grounder, with yet another unearned run scoring. The head count? Four errors and five unearned runs.
The Yankees ended the McKinney-at-the-hot-corner experiment after 33 games. By then, his fielding percentage was down to .917. Somehow, that was better than his career fielding mark of .911 at the position.
Hector Lopez: One New York writer dubbed him Hector “What a Pair of Hands” Lopez. And he didn’t mean it as a compliment. Lopez was a poor left fielder, as attested by his dreadful .970 career fielding percentage in the left-hand corner. But it was at third base where Hector truly reached his full potential for defensive ineptitude. Brendan Boyd and Fred Harris wrote about it so lyrically in The Great American Baseball Card Flipping, Trading and Bubble Gum Book:
“Now, it is not necessary for me to declare that Hector Lopez was the worst fielding third baseman in the history of baseball. Everyone knows that. It is more or less a matter of public record. But I do feel called upon somehow to try to indicate, if only for the historical archivists among us, the sheer depths of his innovative barbarousness. Hector Lopez was a butcher. Pure and simple. A butcher. His range was about one step to either side, his hands seemed to be made of concrete and his defensive attitude was so cavalier and arbitrary as to hardly constitute an attitude at all. Hector did not simply field a groundball, he attacked it. Like a farmer trying to kill a snake with a stick.”
Folks, I can’t describe Lopez any better than that. Enough said there.
[Photo Credit: NJ.com]
Bruce Markusen writes “Cooperstown Confidential” for The Hardball Times.
Nicholas Dawidoff profiles Paul Simon in the latest issue of Rolling Stone. The piece is not available on-line but here are a couple of cherce bits:
“One day not long ago, Donald Fagen, of Steely Dan, who has admired Simon’s work for decades but knows him only slightly, offered up a spontaneous theory of Simon’s childhood. ‘There’s a certain kind of New York Jew,’ Fagan began, “almost a stereotype, really, to whom music and baseball are very important. I think it has to do with the parents. The parents are either immigrants or first-generation Americans who felt like outsiders, and assimilation was the key thought–they gravitated to black music and baseball looking for an alternative culture. My parents forced me to get a crew cut; they wanted me to be an astronaut. I wouldn’t be surprised if all that’s true in Paul’s case.”
Baseball and black music? I can relate.
And this:
“One day when I am visiting Simon at the Brill Building, we go off to throw a baseball. Simon picks a guitar with his right hand, but on a baseball field, he goes the other way. ‘That’s something I remember about my father,’ he tells me. “I was five or six and we were having a catch. He got me a glove. A righty glove. I’d take it off to throw it back. He’d say, ‘No, no. We do it this way.’ Eventually he came into the house and told my mother, ‘Belle, we got a lefty!’ There’s incredible pleasure in throwing a ball. Having a catch with your dad is having a conversation. As you throw the ball back and forth it’s heavenly.”
I don’t have any fond memories of having a catch with my father–those were uncomfortable moments, filled with impatience, anger, and tears–but I loved having a catch with my younger brother (still do though I can’t remember the last time we had one). There is an intimate connection when you are having a good catch that is unspoken but powerful. The rhythm is easy, contemplative and soothing.
[Photo Credit: Bruce Davidson]
I was at the game last night in the Todd Drew box seats with Ted Berg. It was cold and the game was a dud but we had a good time. The crowd was mostly absent when Derek Jeter grounded out to end the game so I figured I might have a shot at catching a gypsy cab back home. I found a guy who was willing to take me uptown for $20. Good dude, from the west coast of Africa. We spoke French for a few minutes and then he told me in English that he’s been in the States since 1989 but that his entire family is still back in Africa. He sends them money and talks to them four or five times a week but he hasn’t been home in seven years.
He has a lot of friends in New York, almost all African. A bunch of them drive cabs too. They line up a block north of River Ave, across the street from the doughnut shop where Todd and his wife Marsha stopped before each game, and listen to the game on the radio. “John and Suzyn,” he said. I imaged them talking in their native language, standing outside parked cars with the windows open and the sounds of Sterling filling the air.
The cabbie’s favorite Yankee is Jeter. Through his thick accent, I heard “Geeduh.”
Business was slow last night. “It’s better when they win,” he said. That’s when people hang around the local bars until 2 in the morning or later so the cabbies can make three or four trips from the Stadium.
“Tomorrow they will win,” he said.
“What makes you say that?” I said.
“I just have a good feeling.”
I gave him $25 and he said, “Have a good bed.”
[Picture by Jozef Baláž]
