Monthly Archives: July 2011

Dig these cool Raymond Chandler book covers by Tom Adams over at Scott Dutton’s most excellent blog.

Dirty, like that Bastard.

This is my workout jam of the week.

The trade deadline is on Sunday and the place it be, if you are not plugged in to Twitter, is MLB Trade Rumors and Hardball Talk. They’ll keep you up-to-date on all the scuttlebutt.

Think the Yanks will make a move? Maybe for a reliever or a bat? Will they get crazy and trade for a starting pitcher? There haven’t been any major rumblings but that doesn’t mean something won’t happen.

[Photo Credit: Dr John 2005]

Last night I saw a girl with red hair on the subway. She must have been seven or eight-years-old. She was sitting between two women in their late forties. The women were in animated discussion and the girl, who was wearing pink sneakers and had long feet, looked up at them. I couldn’t tell if one of the women was her mother or if they were aunts or what. They were speaking in Russian. Then I noticed a man was with them too, sitting next to one of the women. Four Russians. They dressed like they were not from around here.

I watched the girl. Sometimes she was included in the conversation. Mostly, she listened. It reminded me of being a kid, always hanging around adults, comfortable in their company. At one point, they all laughed. I don’t know why. Even the man. It was a brief moment but they all looked so content. I wondered if the girl would remember this train ride when she grew up.

I took a mental picture of them all smiling and thought of what happened in Norway last weekend. I know this is a mad, vicious world. I understand darkness but am grateful for the light.

[Photo Credit: Film is God]

The Seattle Mariners dragged their two-country, four-state, 3000-mile, 15-game losing streak into Yankee Stadium last night in desperate need of a rainout. The rain came and the forecast was not good for the rest of the night. Amateur meteorologists looked at the radar on the Internet and figured there was no chance to play. But the clouds passed and the game happened after all. The Mariners can’t even win a rainout.

Freddy “The Chief” García got first crack at the spiraling Seattle lineup, which at least scored some runs while getting swept in Boston. He let up a few hard hit balls and was beneficiary to a couple of bad calls, but for almost eight innings, he limited the Mariners to three runs. And two of the came when this game was in the books. He allowed eight hits, but only walked one and struck out five.

The longer Freddy García keeps this up, the more secure the Wild Card and the less the Yankees need to make a big trade to lock in October baseball. If they want to win in October, however, well, maybe that’s a different story.

In the Yankees’ first inning, Mark Teixeira smashed a homerun into the second deck in left. It landed hard and bounced back onto the field. I love it when that happens. Derek Jeter found that short, flat stretch of the right field wall that he used so well in 2009 and dunked one over for a solo shot in the third.

The game blew up in the fourth. The Mariners made two errors and the first base umpire blew a second call in favor of the home team to stack the blocks. Run-scoring hits by Nuñez, Gardner, and Teixeira knocked them down. The score stood at 8-1 after the fourth and if any members of the Mariners thought they were coming back, god bless ’em.

They went down on eight pitches in the fifth and the sixth and inbetween probably called hotel room service from the dugout to request extra-fluffy pillows for a well-deserved rest.

The Yankees tacked on and the Mariners played out the string. It was nice surprise to see Derek Jeter added a triple to the homer after I went to sleep. The Yanks won 10-3, and it wasn’t that close.

***

I can’t think of the Mariners without thinking of Dave Cameron and USS Mariner. We send our best wishes and support to him as he starts his battle with Acute Myeloid Leukemia. My wife is a pediatric oncology RN and she’s running the marathon to raise money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. There are numerous other ways to contribute to their research and treatment of these diseases, so if you’re thinking of making a charitable contribution any time soon, this is a great place to do it.

It’s gunna rain tonight. Let’s hope they get the game in. The Mariners have lost 634 games in a row which means they’ve they’ll take two-of-three from the Yanks, right?

Cliff has the preview.

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

We do the cheering:

Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Photograph by Drew Medlin]

If you read USS Mariner or FanGraphs, you undoubtedly know the name Dave Cameron.  Dave is one of the founders of the USS Mariner site, and is now the full-time managing editor and operator of the FanGraphs site.  Today he posted a very sobering entry:

Here on FanGraphs, we talk a lot about probability and likely outcomes. When making a decision, we think it’s generally wise to understand historical precedent, and to learn from history rather than repeat it.

But, there are times in life that you’re not making a decision, and knowledge of the probability of outcomes just doesn’t help at all. You are just rooting for one specific result, even if you don’t have any control over whether it occurs or not.

I’m now in one of those situations. Last week, I was informed that I have Acute Myeloid Leukemia, a particularly nasty member of the cancer family. History has given my doctors all kinds of data about cure rates and life expectancy, and statistical analysis is helping them decide just what kind of chemotherapy I’ll be taking in a few hours, which I’m really thankful for.

Cameron’s outlook seems positive, as evidenced later on in the entry:

…  Save the odds for the doctors; I’m planning on living a long time. I’m planning on beating this thing. I’m planning on watching the Mariners win a game, and at this rate, that might take years. I want to be around to see it, though, and I just don’t care what the odds say is likely.

We at the Banter wish Dave well … here’s to a swift and full recovery!

The Sun-Times Also Rises

By John Schulian

I forget how far in advance we knew the Daily News was going under. A month, six weeks, it couldn’t have been more than that. The publisher, Marshall Field IV, climbed up on a desk in the city room, gathered the troops around him, and broke the bad news.I was on the road, hearing everything second-hand. By the time I got back, everybody was scrambling. Some Daily News people were just moving down the hall to the Sun-Times. The others were left to their own devices.

The one big-name defection to the Tribune was Bob Greene, who had been a cityside columnist at the Sun-Times pretty much since the day he got out of Northwestern. And a damn good one, too. Inspired by Breslin, of course, and yet very much his own guy, great instincts, irreverent, a lively writer. I remember a column he did about a trial where this kid who’d been shot down in the street was close to death and the jury went to the hospital to listen to him testify. It was a stunning piece of work. And Greene wrote books too, not just collections of his newspaper stuff but one about covering a presidential campaign and another about touring with Alice Cooper. But by the time I got to Chicago, it was as though aliens had seized control of his brain. He’d lost his edge and turned precious and cloying. And he was barely 30. To compound Greene’s problems, Royko hated him as only Royko could. The kindest thing I ever heard Mike call him was a “ dirty little shit.” Obviously, the idea of their working shoulder to shoulder wasn’t going to fly. So Greene jumped to the Trib and took at least one friend from the Sun-Times with him.

There may have been other defections, but the mass exodus wouldn’t come until Rupert Murdoch bought the Sun-Times six years later. In 1978, there was a different mindset entirely. Whether you worked for the Sun-Times or the Daily News, your first thought was “Beat the Tribune.” Those of us who came from the Daily News thought we were better than either the Trib or the Sun-Times. If the Sun-Times had been the p.m. paper and the Daily News the a.m., we firmly believed the Daily News would have been the one that survived.

Even today, if you ask Daily News people who moved to the Sun-Times, they’ll tell you their hearts still belong to the Daily News. And it’s been gone for 33 years. Not surprisingly, there were Sun-Times people who despised the newcomers from the Daily News. That was the way it should have been, too. Hell, the papers had been at war for decades. Why make nice now?

The merger, as it was euphemistically known, worked pretty much swimmingly in sports. The guys from the Sun-Times were great, especially Ron Rapoport, a very smart, lively columnist with a well-developed social conscience, and Randy Harvey, who could do anything and do it well. Combined with Mike Downey, Phil Hersh, Ray Sons (who’d gone back to writing full time), Kevin Lamb, Brian Hewitt and me, that was a formidable staff. Not on a par with the Boston Globe or L.A. Times or the Philadelphia Daily News, but still a damn good read. Problem was, some of our best people quickly started moving on to stardom elsewhere. Downey became a columnist at the Detroit Free Press. Harvey jumped the New York Daily News’ experiment with an afternoon paper and our executive sports editor, Kerry Slagle, headed for Inside Sports. But Kerry’s replacement, Marty Kaiser, turned out to be a masterful editor, and the staff, even depleted, was one to be proud of.

The joker in the deck was a Sun-Times sports columnist named Bill Gleason, a professional South Sider who got it in his head that he hated Royko and me more than anybody else on the planet. I heard that Gleason had even taken the cigar out of his mouth long enough to walk into the city room and announce that he wanted to punch out Royko. Mike thought that was hilarious. I don’t think he would have minded tangling with Gleason. As for me, I didn’t know how Gleason felt until the Daily News was in its final days and I ran into him at O’Hare. I said I was looking forward to putting out a great sports section at the Sun-Times, and he started running his mouth about how I tried to get him fired. Believe me when I say I never tried to get him fired. I never tried to get anyone fired. A newspaper guy’s life is hard enough under the best of circumstances. We’re all in it together. But from that moment forward, I never spoke another word to Gleason.

Our feud, if that’s what it was, created some complications, of course. The worst was during the 1978 World Series when we both wrote about the classic duel between Reggie Jackson and Bob Welch. If I’d been teamed with another columnist, we would have talked things over and gone in different directions. But Gleason and I just put on our blinders and wrote what was the story of the night. I didn’t realize the conflict between us had reared its head in such an obvious way until I talked to the office the next day. For what it’s worth, though, my column got big play and his was buried inside. And that’s the way it was going to stay no matter what the subject for the rest of my days at the Sun-Times.

Click here for the full “From Ali to Xena” archives.

There are a ton of baseball blogs but few that are truly original. Josh Wilker’s Cardboard Gods is one, Batgirl’s old Twins blog was another. And then there is Flip Flop Fly Ball, by the British graphic artist Craig Robinson. Craig’s site has been a wonder for years but now he’s published his first book, a must-have for any baseball fan. I recently had a chance to rap with Craig about the book, his site, and baseball.

Dig:

Bronx Banter: You are from England and yet you have a great love for baseball. What are your first memories of the game?

Craig Robinson: I guess the first memories were from movies. You might not notice it in the States, but to us non-Americans, baseball is noticeable because it is referenced so often. Players will be mentioned, TV screens will be showing games, baseball terminology is used. As for an actual first memory, it was being on the subway from Midtown up to the Bronx, being surrounded by pinstripes and blue caps; the atmosphere outside of the ground along River Avenue, and once inside the ground being a bit perplexed by the national anthem being played. (In British soccer, the anthem is only ever played at international games and at the FA Cup Final.) I went with a couple of NY-based colleagues, and as soon as the game began, I was peppering them with questions. My biggest memory, though, was being amazed at how fast the pitchers were throwing.

BB: Which baseball movies did you see?

CR: My favorite is “Sugar.” Really loved that movie. “Pride of the Yankees,” “The Sandlot,” “Bang the Drum Slowly,” “Field of Dreams,” “The Rookie”. They all tend to at some point find their way onto my screen when I’m tired and hung over on a Sunday. The baseball references I remember most are from Seinfeld, actually. Keith Hernandez spitting, Joe DiMaggio dunking his donuts, and George Steinbrenner in general.

BB:  Oh, man. So what did you learn about American culture from them?

CR: I think the movie references just show how ingrained the sport is in American life. And on a personal level, the sentimental talk of fathers and sons is something I can never recapture. I missed out on that because my parents fucked without contraception on an island on the other side of the Atlantic. And, although this doesn’t really answer the question, I’ve learned a lot about American people because of baseball. Without doing any real research, I imagine there’s been a love/hate relationship with Americans since soldiers were stationed in the UK during the Second World War. All my life, Americans have often been portrayed as fat tourists in check pants mispronouncing London landmarks. And in recent years as a bully throwing its weight around in the world. And I feel there’s a level of anti-Americanism in Europe. The great thing that baseball has given me is the chance to talk to people from outside of New York. The first non-Yankee or Met game I went to was in Philadelphia, and on the subway platform, I asked a guy if I was on the right side to go to the ballpark. We got chatting, he gave me a can of beer in a brown paper bag, and we had a great conversation all the way to Citizens Bank Park. I’ve had nothing but good experiences with American people in their cities. When they wish me a good time in their city, state, country, they really sound like they mean it, and I absolutely adore that.

BB: Don’t British boys have a father-son connection through soccer or ruby, boxing or cricket?

CR: I guess some must do, yes. Nobody in my family was that interested in sport. Yes, we’d kick a football around, but it wasn’t any passing on of knowledge or anything like that.

BB: Did you follow or play cricket as a kid?

CR: I was terrible at cricket. Couldn’t do the bowling action smoothly at all. It was all soccer for me. I mean, we had to play soccer, cricket, and rugby at school, but I never cared for cricket or rugby. Since the new 20Twenty format came about, though, I’ve gotten a tiny bit more enjoyment out of watching it.

BB: Was baseball made fun of when you were growing up as the men’s version of rounders?

CR: Yes. There wasn’t even the “men’s version of” at the start, a lot of British people simply refer to it as “bloody rounders.” And I quite likely did that, too. I don’t want to generalize too much, or do my countrymen down, but when it comes to American sports, we tend to be quite snobby about it. As soon as the topic comes up, someone will mention the amount of commercial breaks. And fail to see the irony that the sports we watch feature uniforms with advertising on the front. I mainly think, though, that the time difference makes it hard for British people to get into American sports. It takes a willingness to give it a go, and then a willingness to stay up til gone midnight on a Sunday to watch a football game.

BB: What is it about baseball that you found attractive?

CR: The aesthetics plays a big part. I love the uniforms and the ballparks. I love that it’s so simple: whites at home, grays on the road. I love that the game is orderly for the most part. Pitcher throws ball, batter tries to hit ball, fielder catches or throws the ball, while the batter runs. The elegance of a good double play is pretty much my favorite thing in sports. This is also where the Yankee fan in me comes out, but I love how simple both the uniforms are. They’re beautifully elegant. I love that they look like gentlemen in their uniforms, wearing long trousers; not looking like overgrown children in shorts. I love the lack of advertising on the uniforms. The unique ballparks are such a joy, too. It amuses me to think of future civilizations who discover ancient baseball fields and texts, how they’ll be baffled that a game with such a dizzying amount of statistics, everything measured perfectly is played in parks which are of different dimensions. And the aesthetics inherent in the game’s strong ties to its past. Almost from the off, I could read as much about Gehrig or Mantle as I could about Cano or Jeter.

BB: Other than the uniforms, why the Yankees?

CR: Really, it shouldn’t have been that way. It was an accident of the schedule that they, not the Mets were at home when I was on my trip to NY in 2005. And to come to the game fresh and root for the biggest, most successful team is, I can see, kind of crass. I can try and justify it in many ways. As a European living six hours ahead of Eastern Time, it would’ve had to have been an East Coast team; it would’ve had to have been in a city where I would want to repeatedly visit. But most of all, it’s simply that I fell in love with baseball that night, and on that night, baseball was Yankee Stadium and the Yankees.

BB: Did you ever watch a game before you went to Yankee Stadium?

CR: Only on TV. That was what prompted me to go to a game. I was in NY on business, so caught a few innings here and there of Yankee and Met games on TV. It made no sense, the commentators made no sense, but I was intrigued enough to want to find out what was going on. The first game I saw live was July 27, 2005. Twins 7, Yankees 3. Johan Santana got the win, Al Leiter the loss.

BB: When you started watching games and learning the rules how did you teach yourself what was going on?

CR: I kept notes, and this is how the site started, really, made maps and charts, just to remember things like which teams were where, and where they used to be. It sounds silly, but playing MLB: The Show on the PSP helped a lot too. I had no opportunity to learn the rules by playing the game, but playing a video game version was a decent substitute. Even then, it took me about six months to realize runners had to tag up on sac flies!

BB: Do the numbers, the stats, appeal to you at all?

CR: Not particularly, it just was something that had to learn about to be able to properly appreciate players, and I enjoyed learning about statistics. I’m not really deep into it, I pick and choose what I want to read. I mean, obviously I don’t care about wins, saves, or RBIs particularly. But I’d say I only really look at 10% of what Fan Graphs does.

BB: Can you talk about your interest in the visual arts? What led to your career as a graphic designer? Did you read comics growing up, Judge Dredd and all that?

CR: This is where the father-son connection comes in. My dad was an architect. He wasn’t Frank Lloyd Wright or anything, but he did pottery and even some string art and macramé as hobbies (it was, of course, the 1970s). I always enjoyed drawing as a kid, did a lot of it at school, and then went to art school to study three-dimensional design and university to study jewelrey. I think the things I learned from education were incidental, and mostly, I learned what I didn’t want to do. It was only when, as a working man, I continued drawing, making sketchbooks, and early computer drawings that I realized the greatest talent I have is to kinda do fun stuff. I would love to be Mark Rothko or Yves Klein, but my brain doesn’t work that way. And it was doing the fun, silly stuff in the early days of flipflopflyin.com that lead to me getting a couple of freelance jobs, and then moving to Berlin to work for a web design company. When I left there, I continued freelance illustrating. And still do. I was never really that big into comics. The only ones I read regularly were The Beano when I was pre-teen, and as a teenager, Oink! and Viz.

BB: The sense of fun is integral to your work. Were you a big fan of comedy? Did your father hip you to the Pythons, Beyond the Fringe, or the Goons?

CR: Yeah, comedy is one of those things that I think the British do very well. Monty Python was on TV a lot, and more primetime stuff like The Two Ronnies, Morecambe and Wise, and Les Dawson. When the Young Ones and Blackadder came along, that kinda sealed it for me and I think a lot of my generation. I still notice it in the way people of my age talk, we’re so influenced by the way Ben Elton and Richard Curtis wrote for Blackadder. A whole generation of people who use the word “thingy” a lot.

BB: So saying you like The Goons is like saying you like Charlie Chaplin, right? Hey, did you know that Benny Hill was a very big show over here in the States in the ‘70s and early ‘80s? Used to play it on Channel 9 in NY late night. The Young Ones were on MTV.

CR: Ha ha! I do like Buster Keaton! For me the Goons was just one step removed from where humor was at. I watch it now, and totally appreciate it, but back then, with TYO and Blackadder, things had gotten a bit more, for want of a better word, punk in its attitude. Yeah, Benny Hill’s popularity in the US is one of those weird things that I don’t really understand. I was never really a fan, although I loved the Carry On… films, which were full of smut and innuendo. Proper British silliness. For example:

BB: That’s classic. So, you’ve done your site for several years. How did the book come about?

CR: I was very lucky; a literary agent Farley Chase got in touch with me about a week after the site went online. He liked the site, we had a meeting, and worked on a proposal. I’d also had contact with Pete Beatty, an editor at Bloomsbury, and while the proposal was being put together, he and I separately were having a continual email discussion about all sorts of stuff, mostly baseball, but we got on very well, so it was great that we ended up working together on the book.

BB: What was it like seeing images that you designed for a computer screen on the page?

CR: I’ve kinda gotten used to it over the years. Illustration being my day job, I’m used to seeing computer drawings printed in magazines and newspapers or in a couple of cases, on billboards. I am used to it, but the thrill never goes away. There is something nice about being able to flick through pages and see the colors. And especially for some of the more complex chart, they’d be difficult to fully appreciate on
screen.

BB: Did it change the nature of any of them? I know when I’ve done drawings or small paintings and then made bigger versions of them, the change in dimensions alters everything about the picture.

CR: Not really for the infographics, but certainly for the drawings. Especially the drawings made with the Brushes app, a fantastic painting tool for the iPhone, iPod touch, and iPad. They definitely feel more real printed in the book. I do some pictures by hand, but not that many. Those tend to be more sketchy/doodley. Since getting that app, I’ve found that I don’t really keep a sketchbook with me as much as I used to, cos I can do everything I want to do with my iPod.

BB: Do you ever worry about running out of ideas?

CR: I don’t. Over the years I’ve gotten used to those dry spells, but that’s the joy of the creative rainy seasons: there are always ideas backed up that I’ve not had time to use.

BB: Has the book changed your approach to your work?

CR: I don’t think it changed things that much. It did free me up to do a couple of the more detailed and large charts, because of the restrictions of screen sizes. And, yes, it’d be great to do it more than once, if only because it will mean that the first one was a success!

BB: Sweet. Just a few more, back to baseball. Since you started following it have you gone deeper into the game with each passing season or has some of the appeal worn off on you yet?

CR: Every passing season reminds me of how little I knew the previous season. When friends talk about some 80s reliever or first baseman, I’m at a loss. There’s so much I don’t know, that it hasn’t had a chance to wear off. And the last two seasons have been the first seasons where I have watched a team in the ballpark regularly. I enjoyed getting to know the Blue Jays last summer, and similarly, have enjoyed the Diablos Rojos del México this summer.

BB: Is there a particular period or decade that you are especially drawn to?

CR: Watching the Ken Burns thing, I very much enjoyed the dead ball era stuff, and from an aesthetic point of view, I like the 60s and 70s.

BB: What turns you off about the game? Both historically and currently?

CR: The color barrier, obviously. I don’t enjoy the moralistic outrage about steroids. It’s not just a baseball thing, but I wish homosexuality wasn’t just something that is ignored. The Indians logo, the Tomahawk chop. Taxpayers paying for ballparks is obscene. And, maybe it’s because I’m not American, maybe it’s because I’m not a patriotic person (I don’t see why I should be any more proud of an English person doing something great in sports or life than a German, Mexican, Chinese person doing those things); but the anthem, God Bless America, and militarism makes me a like uncomfortable. And I have absolutely no interest in anything Ty Cobb ever did on the field, because he seemed like what can only be described as a despicable human being. He’s where I put an asterisk. I’m quite sure there were other hideous baseball players, but he’s the one I’ve taken a particular dislike to. I wish MLB and the Hall of Fame would stop seeing themselves as moral guardians. And, quite frankly, a posthumous Hall of Fame entry for Marvin Miller would be disgraceful. They need to sort that shit out now before it’s too late.

The book is out now. Buy it at a store. Or a place like this.

What do you do with a cranky wife on a Sunday evening? A cranky wife who doesn’t like the heat. You throw her in the car, blast the a.c., and take her for ride is what you do. Last night the drive took us to McLean Avenue in Yonkers where you’ll find more Irish folks, real Irish folks, than Americans.

We went to a pub, made  sure it is air-conditioned. I ordered her something fried–and fast.

Then she was a heppy ket.

W.C. Heinz was one of the great magazine writers of the 20th century. Thanks to his daughter Gayl, we are going to run a series featuring some of Heinz’s work. First up, the original manuscript for a Pepper Martin profile that appeared in True. The story ran in the October issue, 1959.

Now, dig Heinz’s original:

[Photo Credit: Gaspar Tringale]

Pictures by Thomas Ehrestsman.

The sky is grey this morning and the heat has relented for the moment.

Happy Monday.

The Yankees led 6-2 going into the eighth inning this afternoon, Bartolo Colon having out-performed Gio Gonzalez. Robertson-Rivera and Say Goodnight Gracie, right? Except it didn’t go down like that. At least it wasn’t smoothness as usual.

David Robertson gave up back-to-back doubles to start the inning and then he walked Josh Willingham. Now, it was 6-3. He rallied to strike out David Dejesus and got Connor Jackson to pop out in foul ground and was ahead of Kurt Suzuki but couldn’t put him away as Suzuki doubled to right. One run scored but Willingham was held at third. And that was the end of Robertson’s afternoon. He walked back to the Yankee dugout and kicked bench in frustration.

Enter Sandman, on the early side. Rivera threw two pitches and got a broken bat ground ball to second. Zip, zip.

The Yanks scored a run in the bottom of the inning and led 7-4. Rivera got a got a ground out to start the ninth but then Jemel Weeks singled up the middle. Coco Crisp followed with a ground ball to Robinson Cano’s left. The Yankee second basemen reached down for it but couldn’t grab it–and even if he had, it would have been a close play at first.

Godzilla Matsui was next and he singled to right and the bases were loaded.

Rivera got ahead of Willingham 1-2 but couldn’t put him away and finally left a cutter out over the plate. Willingham hit a line drive to left that dropped in front of Brett Gardner who was playing deep. A run scored and now it was 7-5. Nail-biting time in the Bronx with Dejesus up. On the 1-1 pitch, he hit a line drive down the first base line. It was right at Mark Teixeira, who made the catch, stepped on first, and then Frank Sinatra started to sing. Mo looked up at the sky.

Final Score: Yanks 7, A’s 5.

“It’s incredible how this game is,” Rivera said to Kim Jones moments later. “You think you have control over it and you don’t.”

They say it may rain today. I say bring it on.

In the meantime: Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Picture by Karole Amooty]

Frustrating loss for the Yanks yesterday. 4-3. They got out of bases loaded jams in the sixth and in the ninth and had the tying run on base a few times, but came up short. Nick Swisher hit a long home right that bounced off the facade of the upper deck in right but the game can be summed up in the final at bat. Robinson Cano was up with Jeter at third. The count was 1-1 when Cano raised his arm to the home plate ump for time. He was too late and time was not granted. The pitch came and Cano, unsettled, swung. It happened too fast; he didn’t mean to swing. But he did and hit an easy ground ball to short for the final out.

Speaking of futility, check out this fine profile of Kei Igaway by Bill Pennington in the Times: 

The five-year saga is a story of a giant mistake of a contract and an overmatched pitcher, a huge organization digging in and a quiet, somewhat mysterious Japanese pitcher with a sense of honor and a durable love of the game. The Yankees made it pretty clear Igawa would never pitch again in the Bronx, but they were determined that he pitch somewhere for his $4-million-a-year salary. They tried to return him to Japan, too. Igawa refused to go, standing fast to his childhood dream of pitching in the American big leagues.

And so, the stalemate — remarkable, if almost entirely un-remarked upon — continues.

The Yankees let him gobble up innings before small crowds in distant outposts as a cavalcade of younger prospects push past him on their way to Yankee Stadium. Igawa never complains, and in a tribute to either willpower or lower level longevity, he has set farm system pitching records. And with just a few months left on his contract, he still dreams of the major leagues, if no longer as a Yankee.

About two weeks ago, on a rare day off, Igawa celebrated his 32nd birthday alone at his Manhattan apartment. He did not consider attending a Yankees game in the Bronx, nor did he tune them in on his television.

“I don’t watch their games anymore,” Igawa said. “I never follow them.”

Excellent piece.

On the hottest day at Yankee Stadium since 1999 the Yankees and A’s play for close to four hours. The game was almost as brutal as the weather but there is little for Yankee fans to complain about because their team put a beatin’ on the A’s to the tune of 17-7. Mark Cahill is a good pitcher, honest, but he doesn’t fair well against the Yankees and they crushed him last night. Dig the box score for the gory details.

If there was one concern for the Yanks it was that Phil Hughes didn’t pitch long enough to get the win. But Nick Swisher homered and had five RBI, and Mark Teixeira hit a grand slam. Also, Derek Jeter batted second again last night, this time with Curtis Granderson in the lineup (Grandy hit third).

It’s another scorcher out there today.

Keep hydrated and Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Photo Credit: Thomas Longo]

The Bombers are back home. This weekend gives the A’s of Oakland. Cliff has the Preview.

Dreaming of relief from this heatwave, we stay inside, in the a.c., and drink cool, refreshing beverages as we cheer:

Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Photograph by Nekto Nektov]

Oh, yeah.

The other day, I hopped on a 1 Train for one stop. I wanted to slide next to the door to make a quick exit because I was running late, but a guy was blocking my path. He was more than a head taller than me and twice as wide. He had a gut, but he wasn’t fat so much as extra-large. I thought of Andre the Giant. If aliens find our skeletons next to each other in a million years, they’ll probably classify us as different species.

I turned towards the other door and standing right behind me was a shaggy college kid with dark facial hair leaning on a fencing sword. He was standing stone straight, both hands folded over the hilt and the point of his epee wedged between his toes in his sandal.

I noticed a lot of eyes drifting between the sword, the kid and the giant. Were we all thinking the same thing?

I got off at my stop, but I kind of wanted to linger and see if a man in black was going to board…