Three's Company [With the thing and the thing and the thing]

Some people think that baseball season is too long.

If you meet one of these people, the appropriate response is to hit them over the head with a tack hammer, because these people are attention-deficient idiots.

Part of what makes baseball so great, and the marathon season so appealing, is that over the course of 162 games, you're pretty much guaranteed to see something, at some point, that you've never seen before. I've attended a fair amount of Yankees games in my life -- Here's an interesting little exercise: If you had to put a number to it, how many total times would you say you've joined the faithful in attendance at your favorite squadron's home ballpark? I've got my estimate at 50 in the real Yankee Stadium, with last night marking my second visit to Lonn Trost's House -- and only by virtue of the long season have I been given the chance to see some of the crazy things I've seen at 161 St. and River Ave.

Were the baseball season not seemingly interminable, odds are much slimmer that I'd have been in the house to see six pitchers combine to no-hit the Yankees for the first time in 45 years, a 2-homer game by A-Rod during his torrid 2007 summer, the 'Boston' standings flag flying inexplicably upside down (photo evidence available upon request), or the apocalyptic sight of "Your Opening Day starter, Carl Pavano." In sports with shorter seasons, you're lucky if you make it to a game or two. In baseball, you've got 81 chances to have a foul ball land in your seat while you're in the concourse putting ketchup on your hot dog, only to end up snagging a second foul pop to your section upon returning (And yes, every one of these things happened with this guy in attendance). Sure, every sport has its idiosyncracies and once-in-a-lifetime moments, but baseball's long season affords you the most chances to actually witness one live.

Last night, I got to be a part of another one of those moments. Looking on from Section 312, I watched Nick Swisher, Robinson Cano and Melky Cabrera hit back-to-back-to-back (and belly-to-belly-to-belly?) home runs in the bottom of the second, staking Phil Hughes and the Bombers to what would ultimately end in a lopsided eighth straight win for the Pinstripers. It was the first time the Yankees teed off for 3 straight dingers since 2005, and only the 11th time they've ever done it. I'll even credit myself with halfway calling the third, as I leaned over to my friend Rob and said, "Does Melky make it 3 in a row here, or is that too much wishful thinking?"

Hopefully I'll prove to have a knack for these kinds of moments this year. Fresh off the heels of three consecutive homers, I'll return to The Stadium tonight and try to run my record to a clean 3-0 on the season. And oh yea, Bonnaroo starts exactly three weeks from today.

It's Thursday, and it's absolutely beautiful. Apparently summer decided to just show up. Come and knock on our door.

Just give me baseball already [or How to call A-Rod gay in 1864]

A-Fraud, A-Roid, maybe you wanna show her your A-Face.


I'm worn out on A-Rod, and steroids, and hypocritical hero-worshipping nonsense about athletes as role models.

Makes me long for the days when they used to play it like real men, the old fashioned way.

Conan O'Brien 1864 Baseball
by Youpinadi



Gammons: You seem peevish.
A-Face: I hope I have not caused you any vexation or unpleaseant cogitations.
Schiff Happens: You ass!
Interview ends, A-Face leaves the room.
Gammons: That gentleman likes to ply his seed in the other melon patch.

Sweet merciful crap, give me some apple hurling and stick mashing already.

Spring training is nearly here, and not a moment too soon.
I've been enjoying watching the NBA more than any season I can recall in a while, but I'm still watching the Knicks, who reminded me tonight that they still suck.

Besides, all of this A-Hole garbage gets me fired up. The season needs to start so I have somewhere to direct all of my hilarious anger.
Effinay-Rod!
Get out on the damn field and do what you get paid your millions to do.
Just win and the rest takes care of itself. In the end, that's all I care about. Any fan who says otherwise, or is willing to act shocked and disappointed that you did that shit is lying to themself.

You're an entertainer. You perform for my amusement. You're a $300 million circus seal, only you are exceptionally good at the exceptionally difficult albeit relatively inconsequential sporting challenge of hitting a round ball with a round piece of wood...and I prefer baseball to the circus. I really don't give a shit if you want to cheat and make an ass out of yourself - it's your money and your reputation - provided of course that you WIN. 3-letter word, starts with "W" - stop me if I say something that rings a bell.

Not to say I condone what you did, you frosted-tipped lying sack of cheater; I just won't shed a tear for my poor kid brother and all your many fans who will never worship your lipstick wearing ass again. We always knew you were kind of a prick. Now you're just a Webster's-worthy douche defined. Either way, you were never some kind of American hero. Writers who built you up that way and want to rip you now, and "Think of the children!" loudmouths who want to call you out for being a bad role model, see above re: lying to themselves. Again, not off the hook. You still cheated, and everyone still hates you.

BUT
(3-letter word, starts with "B")

All of that is irrelevant if you just do your effing job, specifically in months ending in -ober.

Now just give me baseball, so I can watch it all happen.

Whither Jetesy?

Caught one of my favorite Seinfeld episodes before Was watching Seinfeld before--the one where George stops having sex and teaches Bernie Williams and Derek Jeter the simple physics of hitting-- and with the beginning of the "What will the Yankees do with Jeter?" discussion starting to rumble in earnest, it was great to get a look at a youthful Cap'n Jetes doing schtick with Bernie and Costanza. Before he was The Captain he was an exuberant youngster, already a champion, playing every night with only winning on his mind--destined for greatness. And that's how I'll remember him.

But gratuitous bro-love aside, I too wonder how the end of his Yankees career is going to play out. He'll retire a Yankee because he has to and because the Yanks take care of their iconic players that way. He's a lifer. How much he'll get paid after the 2010 season and how (and certainly where) he plays from then until the end are the big unknowns. Money and contract issues are not really of interest to me right now, but I am curious to see where he fits in as his career declines. We thought first base, but enter Bronx Bombers First Basemen Episode 4: A New Hope. Based on what I said above about Jeter's status, I don't think Tex's arrival signals his end in the Bronx, but Jeter's numbers are on the decline; his power has shrunk to the point where he's now a singles hitter who grounds into way too many double plays, traits that aren't becoming for a shortstop and number 2 hitter. Ditto for DH. A-Rod is here for another 9 years at third, so whither Jetesy? At the moment I'm trying really to convince myself that I see The Captain settling under a fly ball somewhere in the new Stadium's outfield, but I'm glad I caught him in his Jeterian innocence on Seinfeld, as I will remember him. It's too tough just yet to imagine Bob Sheppard announcing, "Batting seventh, the left fielder, number 2, De-rek Je-ter...number 2." Yieeesh. That was weird.

Okay time for college hoops (football season is essentially over, sigh)-- c'mon Hoos make it enjoyable! Yea, my expectations against UNC aren't the highest, but we have a sweet freshman who is about to have the ACC Rookie of the Week Award renamed after him, and we're playing at home. Every puncher has his chance. Game just started, $$ is in the house, awesome.

Why the Yankees should forget CC. What? They signed him? Awesome?

I was all set to wake up this morning and write my "Why I'm over CC Sabathia" post detailing the many reasons why the Yankees should stop waiting around for him to decide if he really wants to play in New York, cut bait with their massive contract offer and instead worry about bringing back Andy Pettitte and signing Derek Lowe to solidify the pitching rotation, and signing Manny Ramirez to protect A-Rod (we're really still pondering whether this would be a good idea?) before CC half-heartedly decides to give New York a shot and ultimately flames out under the glare of the media, his record-setting contract and the endless availability of restaurants offering 24-hour delivery.
Instead, I woke up to learn that not only did the Yankees and CC take the first steps in this direction, but the club sweetened the pot with another year and $20 million. Am I excited that the Yankees now have a legitimate ace? Hell yes, of course. I love CC as a competitor and, by all accounts I've seen, one of the all-around good guys in baseball. It just worries me that a guy who was so on the fence and trepedatious about playing in the Bronx for this long is all of a sudden going to carry the 2009 Yankees back to the World Series. For that kind of money and for his stature, Sabathia can't be stepping to the podium and putting on the pinstripes thiking, "Maybe this will work out ok." This decision needs to come with a world-beating, "Let's make this happen," attitude. CC is known to put immense pressure on himself, which will only compound any potential doubt in the face of the massive external pressures he is about to face. That all being said, I still don't think that he will be a flop (and I don't buy into the concerns of many about his physique after so many years of ardently supporting David Wells, the elderstatesman of big fat lefties). Far from it. He's one of the best pitchers in the league and will be good for the Yankees both on the field and in the clubhouse, where he's known as a great teammate who brings people together (something I believe the Yankees have sorely lacked in the A-Rod era). It's a move the Yankees had to make, and maybe in the end it really did simply come down to money for Sabathia. Fine. The problem lies in the way the process played out and the doubts raised along the way. As a Yankees fan, I'm pretty sure I should be overcome with delerious excitement this morning. Instead, I'm just cautiously optimistic. My only hope is that CC doesn't feel the same way.