I feel like that title’s probably been used before, but all my Easter puns were in rather poor taste.
Joba Chamberlain made his first start of the season this afternoon, finally giving fans something to talk about besides his efforts to butter up arresting officers while drunk, and thank god for that. He pitched a somewhat rocky but ultimately effective six innings, giving up three runs, but only one earned (thanks to a late and just correction from the official scorer). The Yankees rallied from 3-1 to take a 4-3 lead in the seventh, but the bullpen couldn’t hold it, and the Royals came back from the dead salvaged the final game of the series, winning 6-4.
Mark Teixeira was out today again with a sore wrist that they’re (for now) calling tendonitis, which sent me and, I’m sure, thousands of others scurrying to WebMD. Not that helpful, though as usual I picked out four or five new fatal diseases I could conceivably have. Anyway, with Teixeira out and Posada and Damon resting, the Yankees didn’t put forth their strongest lineup – Gardner leading off, Melky in left, Molina behind the plate, and of course Cody Ransom still at third, doing all he can to make sure Yankees fans properly appreciate and respect the talents of Alex Rodriguez.
In the top of the first Brett Gardner singled, stole second, moved to third on a groundout, and then dashed home on a wild pitch that never got all that far from catcher John Buck — manufacturing a run with that speed we’ve been hearing so much about. Said David Cone, who I think is developing a bit of a man-crush: “There’s no hitch in that giddyup!”
After that first inning, Gil Meche settled down in a big way and once again made me feel like an idiot for having made so much fun of that signing. He allowed scattered hits here and there but kept the Yankees from putting anything together for the next five innings. Meanwhile, Chamberlain started off great, with two super-efficient 1-2-3 innings, before allowing a solid John Buck homer to left in the third inning. But his biggest struggles came in the fourth, as he got himself into a hole with a walk and a hit batter. He managed two outs, but then Alberto Callaspo reached on a Nick Swisher error (inexplicably scored a hit at first), and new Joba nemesis John Buck singled DeJesus and Teahen home. It was 3-1 KC.
By this time Meche was in his groove, and the Yankee offense sputtered for a couple innings They finally broke through in the seventh: Swisher and Matsui each swung at Meche’s first offering and singled; Nady doubled Swisher in; Cano reached on an error while Matsui came home; and finally Melky Cabrera’s second double play of the game was good for an RBI. Okay, so it wasn’t exactly an overwhelming show of force, but it looked like it was going to get the job done. Brian Bruney pitched a strong seventh, too.
So it seemed the Yanks had resurrected staged their comeback – but after Damaso Marte’s two outs in the eighth, things fell apart for the bullpen. Joe Girardi was making a lot of moves, searching for most advantageous matchup, and I’m sure he’s going to be heavily criticized for that, because why bother when you’ve got God Mariano Rivera available? I wonder if the Yankees have specific health-related reasons for not wanting to use Mo more than one inning, in which case Girardi’s moves wouldn’t seem all that unreasonable to me — as Dolly Parton once sang, “Well, it looked good on paper” — but who knows.
Anyway, it went like this: Billy Butler pinch hit for lefty Jacobs, so Girardi swapped out Marte for Jose Veras, who promptly gave up a walk. Then Phil Coke came in to face Brayan “[Sic]” Pena, who promptly tied the game with a double. Callaspo singled, and John “Yankee Killer” Buck doubled, and the Royals had a two-run lead that Joakim Soria, who is a serious badass, had no trouble nailing down securing. Afterwards Coke, who looks about 17, wore an expression that suggested he was barely suppressing the urge to hurl himself off the nearest tall building. Somebody please give that kid a Cadbury Creme egg and a hug.
The Yanks are off to Tampa, and I’m off to do my taxes. Actually, I wouldn’t take a Cadbury Creme egg or a hug amiss right now either.