Top 100

I have to admit, as a woman, that one of the things that attracted me to baseball from my adolescent years and onwards are men with nice butts in tight white pants. I'm not alone and it shouldn't be a secret to anyone out there. Think about the scene in "Fever Pitch" when one of Ben Wrightman's "summer" family members calls out, "Johnny Damon, you have the sweetest ass in all of professional baseball."

In college, I sat in the bleachers at Fenway to see Fred Lynn bent over waiting for the play. A bearded Nick Esasky smiles down on me in black and white from over my desk (but oh if I had a photo of him in action! Be still my beating heart) and guys like Damon have a fan base, in part, because they were blessed with good looks and talent. (Or didn't you notice all those Mrs. Damon t-shirts and "Marry me Johnny" signs last year?) Beauty gives you a respite between action and it's about time for people to remember that women like to look too.

But the one member of last year's team that I always thought flew under that hot radar was Gabe Kapler. He was best known for the "1918" photo of him standing next to Damon but his arms are a thing of beauty and what a backside! I shouldn't have been surprised to see he was named in the current Heeb magazine's the "Heeb Hundred" of top Jews along with other notable Jews like Gideon Yago from MTV and Ira Glass from "This American Life." (Do you even need to ask which one I would prefer if given the choice?)

Kapler is currently playing outfield for the Yomiuri Giants, but he still looks tight in a great uniform. As the Sox roll into the Bronx this weekend, I just wanted remind you boys that pretty women may sell beer - but sexy men in tight pants are, sometimes, the reason you get to watch the game.

Thank You Carl Pavano

Dear Carl Pavano,

I’d like to personally thank you on behalf of Red Sox fans everywhere for signing with the Yankees. Last winter, as you were deemed the best free-agent pitcher on the market, you proceeded to complete a tour of all interested cities. From New York to Seattle, you were wined and dined by owners, coaches and players who all wanted you to play for them. When the Carl Pavano tour finally ended, you chose (with far too much publicity for a seemingly inevitable decision) the Yankees.

It may seem strange that I’m thanking you for this, but it was your snub of the reigning World Series champions that prompted General Manager Theo Epstein to seek out the services of the then-lesser-known Matt Clement. Mr. Clement was coming off a mediocre year with a final record of 9-13 — a weak showing compared to your impressive eighteen win season. I can only speculate that the Red Sox management must have seen something special in the prospect from Chicago, something that was not on display in his record. If Theo Epstein and his crew predicted Mr. Clement’s current success, I doubt they felt even the smallest tinge of disappointment upon your signing in the Bronx.

So, Mr. Pavano, as it stands now, you are an average 4-2, while Boston’s new gun is sitting on an impressive 5-0 start. Mr. Clement is coming off his first complete game of the season against Atlanta – one of National League’s best. Despite one or two mediocre outings (let’s not forget that you’ve had your share as well), Mr. Clement has yet to loose.

If we compare statistics (both of you have pitched in ten games this year), I’m sure it will be clear that you are losing every category to Mr. Clement. Mr. Clement has a rather fine E.R.A. of 3.34, although yours is not far behind at 3.69. But, if we look deeper, you will see that Mr. Clement has 47 strikeouts to your 37. Furthermore, and perhaps more importantly, Mr. Clement has allowed only 2 home runs this year, compared to the 11 that you have given up – a rather dismal number this early in the season, if I might add. During this past month of May, Mr. Clement has an improved E.R.A. of 2.86. I’m sure that you are aware that your E.R.A. has decreased to 4.22 for this month.

You have no excuses, Mr. Pavano. I don’t want to hear any complaining about the pressure of playing in New York, for Mr. Clement seems to be thriving in a similarly large and outspoken market. I don’t care if you were hit in the head by a ball shot back at you, because you probably threw a bad pitch. And most importantly, I don’t want to hear the argument that adjusting from the National League to the American League takes time. If you look at Mr. Clement, he does not appear to be the least bit phased by the transition.

I’d like you to know I did question your ability when the Red Sox were throwing eight figures in your direction. I will admit that you did pitch very well last season. But, could that eighteen-win season of yours have been a fluke? Two years ago, you didn’t even finish over .500. It took just one very good season for teams across the country to become infatuated with you. In the fiery hot stove competition between the Red Sox and Yankees last winter, it seemed that if Boston did not sway you to Fenway, the Yankees would walk away with the pennant because of their resulting superior pitching.

But, here we are at the end of May, Mr. Pavano. The pitcher Boston "settled" on is out-dueling you in every category – primarily with his 5-0 start. I mean this letter in all earnestness, for I am sincerely gracious for your decision to pass up the great city of Boston. Besides, someone who has the hubris to conduct a city-by-city tour promoting himself clearly belongs in the Bronx. The Red Sox and their fans are more than happy with Mr. Clement.

The utmost thanks,

Brian Mason

{Statistics from mlb.com were used in this article.}

Pat Borders Back in Seattle

On Sunday, Pat Borders, the former World Series MVP for the 1992 Toronto Blue Jays, made his return in a Seattle uniform. Borders went 1 for 3 with a walk in the Mariners 5-0 win over the San Diego Padres. The catcher started the season off at AAA Nashville of the Milwaukee system where he hit .245 with 3 home runs, 26 RBI in 14 games. Seattle's long time catcher, Dan Wilson, is out for the season with a torn knee ligament. Manager Mike Hargrove stated that a main reason why Borders was targeted was his knowledge of the nearly unchanged Seattle pitching staff of 2004.

Borders previously played in Seattle from 2001 to 2004. The 42-year-old is known for his strong work ethic, volunteering in the community and being a family man. In 1061 career games, Borders is hitting .255 with 68 home runs and 338 RBI.

It is safe to say that Borders will catch 30-40 games and hit .260 with a few home runs and 20 RBI. While these are not Hall of Fame statistics, the M's need a quality back up catcher for Miguel Olivo. Olivo is 27 and got his first Major League game only 2 years ago. Olivo can benefit from the tutelage of a World Series winning catcher. The former back up for the Mariners, Rene Rivera, was demoted to AA San Antonio. Wiki Gonzalez is on the DL with a pulled hamstring.

Although Borders' numbers may not scream "All Star," he will make a strong impression on the young Seattle staff.

Can't Get No Relief

I’m going to come right out and say it. Whenever the Red Sox hand over the ball to reliever Keith Foulke, I get the s*** scared out of me.

Even last October, when Foulke rivaled Derrick Jeter for the month’s namesake, I was panic-stricken whenever a game was turned over to him. The All-Star closer is supposed to be able to take the ball in the ninth and end the game. And last fall, despite his flare for dramatics, that is exactly what he did.

Last fall, I came to terms with the fact that it was in Foulke’s very nature to load the bases with no outs and somehow come away without a run. I rejoiced when he closed out the series against the Yankees only to find my fingernails torn to shreds. And I gasped — presumably along with every other Red Sox fan — when he held on to the final out for an eternity to end Game 4 of the World Series.

It was because of his heroics last fall (plus the whole elation of a Red Sox title) that I was prompted to believe that he would pick up this spring right where he left off. I expected Foulke to have an absolutely stellar year, closing out games with machine-like efficiency. I wanted Keith Foulke to be Boston’s answer to Mariano Rivera.

But Keith Foulke has not had any answers this spring. Foulke’s E.R.A. has skyrocketed from 0 in the A.L.C.S and 1.80 in the World Series to an atrocious 7.29. Every time he takes the mound, I’m still petrified.

After two months of baseball, Foulke has already blown three games for the Red Sox. I expected him to blow three games over the course of the entire season…at most! Along the way, he has given up six home runs and far too many hits and walks.

According to Manager Terry Francona, Foulke is "not locating." Well, DUH! I could have told him that. When your fastball is only 85 miles per hour and you can’t find the edges of the plate, today’s juiced hitters are going to crush it out of any park.

Over the past two seasons, the former being Foulke’s All-Star year in Oakland, the closer has posted one of baseball’s lowest E.R.A.’s. Foulke was in the company of Pedro Martinez and Randy Johnson. But this year is different. This year, Foulke is throwing too many pitches into the dirt, over hitters' heads, and left lingering in the strike zone.

Perhaps hitters are finally wising up to the fact that Foulke throws neither powerful, nor crafty stuff. His fastball is slow, and his changeup is good, but overused.

Maybe Foulke was just getting lucky all of those cold October nights. Let’s be rational now — we’re talking about the same closer who shut down the two most potent offenses in baseball last year over a span of roughly two weeks. Foulke denied runs to Jeter, A-Rod, Sheffield, Matsui, and rarely let one slip against Rowland, Edmonds and Pujols. This same pitcher should not have blown two saves against the A’s this spring, currently one of baseball’s most pathetic offenses. At the time, no one in Oakland’s starting lineup was batting over .300.

I’ve heard the argument that relievers who work deep into the post season typically have bad springs. But this has not assuaged my fears. Granted, Foulke was utilized for all his strength last fall, but he should be back by now. It’s nearly June and Foulke is still giving up runs.

My Red Sox heart tells me not to worry about Foulke. He did not have a consistent start last season, either, and look where he ended up. But as true as that may be, it does not change the fact that the very heart telling me to have faith in the proven closer skips several beats every time he takes the mound.

We're Jammin'

Last night's game was such a sweet reversal of the other day that I breathed a huge sigh of relief. In fact, the other day was one of the few times I couldn't bear to watch - so I gave in to my son's request to make strawberry jam.

Think about that: watch the Red Sox or make strawberry jam - and I chose to make jam. Now I'm looking at eight jars of strawberry jam wondering what to do with it all because, truth be told, I don't even like strawberry jam all that much.

Of course that pathetic performance leads into the current round of, "hey, let's try to win over the fans on this whole interleague play with local rivalries scam." The Braves and the Sox were the Boston rivalry. (My mom started out as a Braves fan when she was a kid and switched allegiances when the Braves left town, like many other of her peers. When the Reds come to town, I'll tell you the story about her and game 2 of the '75 series in Cincy.) There's the "subway" series over in New York where Pedro would rather admit to a sore hip than play in the house that Ruth built again. (Damn! I thought signing with the Mets kept me out of here!) and out in the windy city, the White Sox are trying to prove they're just as popular as the Cubbies - even if Jimmy Buffett has been hired to play his annual labor day weekend show at Wrigley to lift the curse there.

So here we are, facing the Braves - a consistently good team over the years. The same people who lured away Nick Esasky, the baseball ghod (just before Lyme Disease cut his chance at a stellar career short), are here in Boston and in Fenway… and they still must pay for that unspeakable act. You think someone like me would be sidling up to a scalper to pay top dollar for standing room so that I could be there to avenge the lure of Ted Turner's hypnotic trance on my hero.

But I'm not. I'm sacked out in my jammies on the couch because I'm sick as a dog with a miserable head cold. The only thing making me feel better (outside of handfuls of ibuprofen and good dosing of a popular cold remedy) is watching the team do what they do best: teamwork.

While most folks focus on guys like Damon, Manny or Big Pappi as a hope to come close to the Splendid Splinter, I look to the true meat and potatoes of the team: Varitek, Millar, Mueller and Bellhorn. These are the guys that I could easily see singing, "Oh we are the boys in the chorus, I hope you'll like our show. I know you're rooting for us, but now we have to go…." The ones who, if they were hoofers, would get that on Broadway the stars shine and their job is make them look as though they had just been polished. Every so often they get to do a little buck and wing or something - but usually they are the supporting members that keep the show rolling.

While Miller's no-no fell with the resounding chunk of a double off the score board, a good game played is a delight to watch: win or lose.

Me, I'm just hoping there aren't too many more of those pathetic strawberry jam day games. If there are, you can be sure that next time I'll make enough for the whole team.

Subway Series

After a 10 game winning streak that brought the Yankees back to respectability, the Bronx Bombers reverted to their early season form in their streak breaking 7-6 loss to Seattle. Bad pitching, poor defense, and untimely hitting led them to squander a 6-2 lead.

Mike Mussina gave up 4 runs in 5 innings, the Yankees committed 3 errors leading to 2 unearned runs, and Jason Giambi struck out with the bases loaded in the ninth to end the game. Ah… back to reality.

The Yankees now return to New York in the unaccustomed role of the visiting team, starting a three game series against the Mets tonight. Because the game is at Shea where the DH is not allowed, they'll be forced to decide, “Who’s on first?”

The Yankees, 5.5 games behind the Orioles, bring a 21-20 record into their weekend series against the Mets, who at 22-19 are 1.5 games behind Atlanta. Although the teams’ records appear similar, the perception of each teams performance so far in this 2005 season is completely different.

The Mets are fun again. Good young players, like the performance of Victor Diaz earlier in the year, David Wright and Jose Reyes, added to a slew of tough veterans like Carlos Beltran, Cliff Floyd, Mike Cameron and Mike Piazza, leave a Met fan believing every game is winnable. The Yankees too have a talented team, however, that group of aging veterans seems more desperate to win than enjoying the season.

The Mets have their problems as well, and I’m not talking about their grounds keeping crew no longer in the betting business. But even though; the bullpen is far from great, there area new concerns about Pedro’s hip; and the debated continues about weather Kazuo Matsui deserves to be the daily second baseman, it’s fun to be a Mets fan again.

After the Yankees humiliating loss in the ALCS last year, and their start of the 2005 season, a 10 game winning streak doesn’t seem to be enough. For a team that has taken winning their division for granted, they appear shell shocked that they are not already in first place. Meanwhile the Mets seem energized to finally be in the hunt. So this “Subway Series,” may shed some light on which New York team is on the train heading North.

Aaron Boone, Lost in Cleveland

It seems like 10 years since Aaron Boone stood 60 feet and 6 inches from Tim Wakefield and made a dancing knuckle ball fly true into the chilly October sky. On television, the ball came off his bat fast but high, so you weren’t completely sure it was gone until the cameras cut from the batters box to left field. Then, as it soared high against a backdrop of New Yorkers bundled in autumn attire, you knew. You knew that underneath that high arc, Manny Ramirez was running out of Bronx real estate, and the Red Sox had run out of time.

Every time I watch the clip of his homerun, I marvel that Boone is able to stay upright as he runs the bases, that his legs are able to function while his brain processes the magnitude of what his body has just done. That the history he just created doesn’t simply press him flat to the earth.

Aaron Boone had arrived in NY about 150 at-bats before, the latest bounty of the Yankees’ crop-burning approach to farm system management. His lineage proved that genetics had something to do with hitting a speeding ball: he was a third generation major leaguer and his older brother was an All-Star second baseman for the Seattle Mariners. Aaron could hit homeruns and steal bases, a desirable combination if you could overlook the strikeouts and batting average. The Yankees felt they secured the final piece for the stretch run, not the man who would hit the most dramatic homerun since Bobby Thompson.

Boone's season had been an awkward mix of family and job. His father and manager, Bob, had been fired in Cincinnati. Aaron's loyalty to his father led him to demand a trade from the Reds; when his request was honored, he cried openly at the press conference. As Boone sobbed, you sensed the conflict of loyalty to his father and fear of the unknown, the realization of a young man that he was off to the big city, away from everything and everyone he was comfortable with.

There was plenty of symbolism in Boone’s arrival at home plate that night, as he paused to take the last few steps and leap into a welcoming sea of pinstripes. Despite his struggles since arriving in New York, fans rooted for Boone because he earnestly seemed to want to fit in, to be part of it all, to follow where Jeter and gang led. But when he was swallowed whole that night by his team, you knew that he had found a home. At that moment, the possibility of Alex Rodriguez playing third base for the Yankees the next season was as unlikely as — well, as the possibility of Aaron Boone tearing his ACL in a basketball game.

Life is not a steady diet of fastballs. You get the curve, and sometimes it’s got so much movement that you want to inspect the ball for scuff marks. Aaron Boone got his that off-season, and you wonder what went through his head as he writhed around on the basketball court and clung to his unhinged knee. Did he immediately think of his contract? Did he think of Jeff Kent, who almost got away with lying about the circumstances of his off-the-field knee injury? Or did he think of Hal McCoy, the Cincinnati sportswriter who Boone convinced to keep writing when his vision deserted him? Whatever went through his mind at that point, we know what ultimately came out of Boone's mouth: the truth. He did not make excuses, or tell us that he had to feed his children. Just like he had so wonderfully owned the magical moment of his epic homerun, he owned this moment, in all its embarrassing ugliness.

Today Aaron Boone is hitting .142 for the Cleveland Indians. There’s something rather cruel about that sentence; you'd think that God might allow him to suffer the total desertion of his abilities in San Diego or Florida. And it's beyond the point where such a shocking batting average can be dismissed as early season struggles. Aaron Boone is officially horrible right now, and pudgy businessmen with soft paper-pushing hands are not far from the truth when they snicker that they could hit better.

It is a long way from October in New York for Aaron Boone. He'll come to Yankee Stadium on July 7, and perhaps by then, this horrid slump will be a distant memory. Either way, Boone will settle in to the batter's box where he made magic three years prior, and the fans will welcome him warmly.

And if he creates magic again, I don't think anyone in New York will really mind.

The World According to VORP

I hope every baseball statistic nut knows about www.baseballprospectus.com. It’s probably the premiere statistics website on the internet. They created a statistic called VORP or Value Over Replacement Player. It has to do with the averages of statistics at that position and whether you are above or below it. The Blue Jays have an offensive VORP of 48.4 cumulative for their starting 9. The Jays have lost by giving up Carlos Delgado this off-season, as his VORP is 12.3 and his replacement Eric Hinske has only managed 8.1. However, I want to compare Toronto’s total team VORP to that of the Red Sox and Yankees, two clubs who were supposed to be vastly superior to The Jays at the start of the season (and would probably be considered so now by the average fan). The Yankees VORP is 73.4, however it should be noted that Rodriguez, Jeter and Sheffield count for 51.6 of this. The Red Sox cumulative VORP comes in at an even 80, with Damon and Varitek being the biggest contributors to that number. But what is this teaching us? Toronto’s offense hasn’t produced the numbers that The Red Sox or The Yankees have, but their record is almost equal to that of Boston and superior to that of New York. Let’s also examine the AL’s two best teams, the Orioles and the White Sox. The Orioles cumulative offensive VORP is 83.5, putting them on the same level as the Red Sox. The White Sox VORP is 29.4, the lowest of the ones we have examined.

The pitching statistics will help contribute to this story. The Blue Jays have the best VORP in the starting rotation, and would be vastly superior would it not be for Ted Lilly’s -14.0. The Yankees have the weakest rotation and bullpen, and the Red Sox bullpen is the best of the group, making their team’s total average 0.9 above the Blue Jays 27.0. The Orioles possess a team pitching VORP of 51.5, which shouldn’t surprise anyone considering they are dominating the division. The interesting thing is that they only have one starter with a really high number (Bedard at 16.4). The key to possessing a high team VORP is not two or three good starters, but a solid pitching staff from top to bottom, which the Orioles possess. Let’s look at the White Sox pitching as well. They have an overall staff VORP of 90.7, easily the best in the league.

So, after this endless supply of statistics and data you don’t care about, what does it teach us? That a) I doubt Chicago’s success is sustainable, despite their rotation being filled with Yankee cast-offs Contreras and El Duque, and b) pitching wins you a ton more games than hitting does and

c) for people who were thinking offense isn’t the problem the Jays thought it was, they were wrong. Their best player is in the negative VORP (that being Vernon Wells). It’s no mistake that the teams with the best ERA’s are playoff teams. Hopefully this information gives my fellow Yankee haters some hope, as with three regular starting pitchers in negative VORP they don’t seem to be getting better any time soon. Just using some great statistics at your fingertips can help you get behind the real stories, hopefully you guys can take a look at the VORP as well as the ton of statistics baseball prospectus keeps and use them to increase your enjoyment of our great game of baseball.

"Hinske Haters"
An interesting thing happened a week or so ago, on the Blue Jays swing through Tampa Bay and Baltimore. Eric Hinske has always had a single heckler in T-Bay booing him and taunting him. He doesn’t know why he gets heckled, and he has never even met the guy. Just chalk it up to one of those weird things that happens in sports, right along the lines of "DARRRRRRRRRRYL" "DARRRRRRRRYYYLLLL" back in the 80’s. A random occurrence right? Well the during the last series in Baltimore, this thing snowballed. A group of guys, probably around 20 or so, actually left their seats to go stand at ground level during Hinske’s at bat. They proceeded to boo him and taunt him whenever he was hitting. The Blue Jays announcers couldn’t make any sense of it, and it seemed like a random occurrence. But it kept happening. It’s interesting I think. Hopefully if anybody knows anything about this, let us know because it’s a story I would like to follow. Or, create a Hinske Haters club at Fenway Park or Yankee Stadium. He might hate me for it, but it’s a way to get a headline!

Yankees 18-19! Look familiar?

The Yankees have won seven in a row and their fans are once again celebrating! But we here at YankeesSuck.com see a little something unusual in their win - loss record. Is it a coincidence that after the Red Sox reversed the curse last year with their World Series win that the Yankees would start the season out 18-19?

We believe it is another sign that the Yankees' fortunes are forever changed.

Win it for...

Most of us know that the folks over at Sons of Sam Horn are fanatics. But then, so are we - so we all speak the same language when it comes to the Red Sox and baseball. When I saw the cover of "Win it for…" my first reaction was, "Not another Red Sox book. This team is becoming more overexposed than Johnny Damon's pecs."

But the picture on the back cover intrigued me. It was a photo of grave stone with a Sox shirt draped over it and a sign reading, "They finally did it Irene." So I figured I'd give it a skim to see what it was all about.

I was shocked by the intensely personal stories that members of SOSH shared about who introduced them to the Sox, their love/hate relationship with the team and baseball and why this victory would be so important if they actually did managed to defeat the Cards. I couldn't put the book down and, more than a few times, I found myself sniffling and reaching for a tissue. There are those that will say it is sappy or maudlin - but I found it a compelling description of what makes us who we are as we define ourselves as Sox fans.

The best way I could honor would be to put into print the feelings (slightly modified to fit the "win it for" format) I had last fall in my journal the night of game 4 against New York:

Win it for all of us, past, present and future, who understand that being a Sox fan is the very definition of the phrase "leap of faith." Every spring we start anew, hoping that this year is our year. We believe that somehow we will be able transcend the demons and ghosts that have kept us at arm's length for years (including letting us get as close as one pitch away). We are the ones that read things like Giamatti's "Green Fields of the Mind" as a bedtime story to our children when they are little and cheer them on in little league as they grow.

Even though we know they will break our hearts, we still stand behind the New York bride trying to catch the bouquet with the faith that eventually we will be the bride and not the bridesmaid.

****

I suppose that's why I was asked to introduce the author and the book when he shows up at the Borders in Chestnut Hill for a booksigning Saturday, 5/14, at 4pm. I'll be there (and wearing my spiffy reverse the curse shirt). If you can't, pick up a copy of the book any way. If for no other reason than a chunk of the profits go to Curt's pitch to strike out ALS and Dana Farber. Who knows, maybe you'll see yourself in those pages. I know I certainly did.

Even I Could be a Yankee

Until I was about 15 years old, I had the notion that I was going to play for a major league baseball team. Oblivious to my then 5-foot, 6-inch, 105-pound frame and .126 junior varsity batting average, I was so overconfident of my blazing speed on the base paths that some scout, sooner-or-later, would be impressed to the point I’d be signed in the 75th round by a team known for drafting lovable losers. I’d eventually shoot up the farm system with ease, earning a spot as a steadfast pinch runner, á la San Diego’s Damien Jackson.

Sure it seemed like a stretch but I’d seen a countless number of talentless hacks called up to the Phillies from the local AAA-affiliate Scranton/Wilkes-Barre Red Barons. But then again, I was a stupid kid — chances are Sisqô was in my CD player at the time.

Eventually, I would throw my professional baseball plans away and trade hip hop for classic rock. But now, a few years later, I see talentless hacks playing for the New York Yankees in the likes of Robinson Cano, Chien-Ming Wang, and Sean Henn. When you see low-potential players jump up to big leagues, it is usually due to a bad team, like the Pirates, or impotent general managers – like the Phillies had back in the mid-to-late 90s, (although I have been questioning Brian Cashman’s abilities after he threw the farm system away,) —or trying to boost your "prospect's" value in the trade market.

With the Yankees lingering eight games out of first place in the basement of the American League East, George Steinbrenner, realizing that New York’s chances of catching up to Baltimore and Boston are slim with an aging pitching staff as out-of-shape as the fat guy who has already began camping outside for Revenge of the Sith tickets, is trying to get his minor leaguers – perhaps more over-rated than his horses – exposure so he can trade their worthless talent for an over-hyped-player-to-be-named-later.

Owners beware: you’re about to make the worst mistake since FOX cut episodes of Arrested Development for the painstakingly awful American Dad.

Pinstripe faithful will label this a conspiracy theory. So be it. But there’s no plausible explanation for Steinbrenner to be playing Cano, Wang, and Henn when he has a payroll of $208 million, aside for bait for younger players to replace the present.

Cano is plaguing the bottom of the Yankee lineup with a batting average just below the [Timo] Perez line at .095. At Triple A Columbus last year, his numbers were equally as disappointing with a .259 batting average and 30 RBIs in over 60 games. Forget the Yankees, why was he playing for the Clippers and not at Double A Trenton?

Wang spend most of the 2004 season at Trenton, where he boasted a mediocre 6-5 record. Henn, with a 19.29 ERA in his only start for New York, pitched only at Trenton last season, where he was 6-8 with a 4.41 ERA. Both have been equally terrible as Yankees, both were rocked by Tampa Bay hitters.

The Yankees contend that the lineup changes are just them trying to find what works. "We didn't like who we were, so we tried something," manager Joe Torre said in an Associated Press article, speaking of the recent additions to the roster. "The way we are playing, we need to see if this will help us."

But look at it. It’s May. None of the players are going to make an impact in the near future. They are having trouble making blockbuster trades because owners want fresh meat and big names. And, come the deadline, the Yankees will be behind Baltimore, Boston, Minnesota, or Chicago for a wild card slot and will need a spare arm and second baseman for a run at it. Put it all together and it makes sense: Steinbrenner is making these youngsters look good. It’s good business, but bad baseball.

This is all getting me to ponder whether or not I should quit writing to play Division III college baseball, because, sooner-or-later Steinbrenner will have ME donning pinstripes.

Other Sources:

TheBaseballCube.com
Associated Press

You gotta have heart

While Steinbrenner throws tantrums and keeps trying to shift things around in order to find a working combination worthy of his $200 million, Arroyo came close to a no hitter. Even with our numbers one and two starters on the DL, we are playing good solid ball which gives me hope that maybe; just maybe, my heart won't break again this August or October.

So it has been a little easier to be diverted by baseball in its purest form: little league.

In case you forgot what originally attracted us to the game, take your lawn chair down your local field and watch those 9-12 year olds play their hearts out. They don't do it for multi-million dollar contracts, endorsement deals or even a paycheck. They do it for the occasional pizza or ice cream party and a trophy or medal at the end of the season.

This is when the only thing between you and a stolen base is the kid on the mound who is sure to throw it over the umpire's head in a pass ball situation. (Which is why, I'm pretty sure, you can't steal home in the minor leagues.)

Kids play with their heart, soul and imagination. They come up to the plate thinking they are the next Manny or Big Papi and are ready to slam that ball over the fence and into the car windshield belonging to one of the parents from the other team. Each kid on the mound is a Pedro or a Schilling and each kid behind the plate is a Varitek.

The scores are more football like: 24 to 18 and you know that at least a dozen of those runs are walks with the bases loaded. But it doesn't matter. You know when the kid with some real strength comes up, at least three or four kids are going to run after the ball that got past them and they might remember you have to throw it to the cut off and not directly to home plate.

Each kid is encouraged when they're younger. Parents stand on the side yelling, "Nice cut," or "Good eye." Kids who have to do the goat walk back to the bench aren't afraid to let their tears show as if to say, "I'm sorry I let you down," to their team mates. Kids on the bench are alternately cruel - telling kids they suck or "what'd ya swing at that for?" and supportive, "Hey, even Manny strikes out - you'll get it next time."

There are no funky patterns mowed into the grass and you know where to play the outfield by the spots worn bare by kids playing left, center and right. There is still innocence on that worn field of dreams until you start moving up the chain.

My oldest boy gave up playing organized ball when he was 13. That was the point when it ceased being about fun and loving the game and became focused and vicious. These were the kids who were now thinking of baseball scholarships and scouting prospects. They weren't afraid to throw at a kid's head that pissed them off earlier that day or week and then say, "It got away from me." They're young enough to get away with it but the kids on the field know better. Kids have moved from the dream of hitting the grand slam with two outs in the bottom of the ninth of game seven in the World Series, winning it for the team and glory to hitting a grand slam of endorsements.

In other words, they have moved from the Red Sox - where you've gotta have heart - to the Yankees where you gotta have cash.

On days when I'm down the field and I see that kind of play, I take a giant step back and wander over to the t-ball field to watch practice. They do "monster walks" (to learn how to step into throwing the ball) and "alligator catches" (to learn a two handed catch with the glove) and I regain my perspective.

I remember one of the endearing qualities of the Sox the past couple of years were the dug out antics. There is something refreshing about professional players taping Pedro to a pole and leaving him there or wearing rally caps that reminds all of us of a time when we dreamed of sitting in that hallowed dugout waiting for Sherm Feller to call out, "Now batting for Boston."

Perhaps I'm waxing nostalgic because this is my youngest's last season of little league. Perhaps it is because I taught my five year old great niece (and the nice thing about more generations - I keep getting greater) how to stand when batting and step into the pitcher as we played baseball with a sponge ball and bad mitton racquet in her grandfather's living room as the Sox opened a can of whoop-ass on the Mariners in the background last night.

I don't know. I just know that every time I hear a player talking about, "It's my job and its hard work," I want to respond, "Yeah, but it's still only a game and the greatest job anyone can have."

People like me can only write about it while they get to live the dream.

Shaken not stirred

Stuck with $208 million worth of poorly performing baseball players, the Yankees shook-up their team with an infusion of youth and bold moves Tuesday. Then they promptly lost two games in a row, making the Tampa Bay Devil Rays look like contenders. Just to put this in perspective, The Devil Rays entire team payroll for 2005 is $29 million. A-Rod will make $26 million this year. Hmmm...

The performance tonight of two players just brought up to the big club, Robinson Cano and Sean Henn, was yet another disappointment for the Yankees. Henn, whose new nick-name should be "Rocky," threw 2.1 innings giving up seven runs and two hits. However, two of the seven runs were unearned. The problem is the costly error was by Cano, the other "Yankee hopeful."

Off to their worst start in over a decade, the 2005 Yankees appear to be "Cursed." Their ace, Randy Johnson, should have been on the mound tonight, but his injured groin scared the Yankees and they cautiously decided to rest their "Unit." Johnson didn't seem happy about the move and said he could have pitched. "I feel fine. I could have pitched..." Having scored 8 runs in their 11-8 loss to Tampa Bay, it's hard to imagine the Yankees loosing this one if he did start.

Yankee fans wondering how such a rich and talented team could be playing this poorly should look at this interesting stat. So far this year, having won 11 games and loosing 17, the Yankees have scored 147 runs, and given up 161.z The poor start cause the Yankees to move Tony Womack to left field (bizarre), and kick Bernie Williams off the starting line-up.

Also Jason Giambi, who is pondering his future as a pinstiper hit by a pitch in the eighth, left the game blurry eyed, with ringing in his ears. These days, I'll bet he's not the only Yankee experiencing those symptoms.

The Bronx Bombers are playing so bad we're thinking of changing the name of this site to "HolyCowTheYankeesRealyDoSuck.com"

A Winning Recipe: Not Just $$

The Yankees 1998 line-up and starting pitchers, as well as their 2005 line-up and starting pitchers are at the end of this article. When you compare these two, you see a few players are on each list (Jeter, Posada, Williams and Martinez). A few of these players are on their upswing and a couple are at the end of their careers. My point here is that their 1998 line-up, which was the first of their three straight championship teams, and also had the highest win total of any Yankees team ever, was made up of role players (without gaudy stats) who got their jobs done. Many of these players (O’Neill is a prime example) are remembered as "True Yankees," for the winning they did.

Their 2005 line-up is a patch work of all-stars and MVP candidates. They are guys that have high stats, but do not necessarily do the "little things" that will win a baseball game. Mind you, I saw A-Rod yesterday double, tag-up on a fly ball to left-centre field, and score the first run in the Blue Jays game. However, Sheffield couldn’t do that, Giambi can’t, nor can Posada.

Guys like Luis Sojo and Jim Leyritz are the reasons that the Yankees have been successful in the past. They are guys that have been bench players, and have been able to come in and make a great clutch performance in the playoffs. The Yankees don’t have guys like that anymore, unless you think Rey Sanchez and Bubba Crosby can get it done. But, who has those players? The Boston Red Sox! Dave Roberts and "The Steal" last year. A guy like Kevin Millar, who I believe has tons of parallels to a guy like Paul O’Neill or Scott Brosius. Kevin Youkillis is a solid pinch hitter coming off the Red Sox bench.

This is a lesson Steinbrenner should know, considering he taught it to the Red Sox, Diamondbacks, Marlins and every other team who has beaten him in the playoffs. Bench strength and bullpen depth are the two largest keys in the postseason. The Sox showed that this year, and the Yankees teams of the late-1990’s had those things. This is a reason why the Orioles are going to be a real threat in the AL east this year, and my beloved Blue Jays will not be. Your starting line-up will not win you a World Series. This is why the Yankees are suffering, their payroll is almost completely centered on starters and starting pitchers (with the exception of Mariano Rivara). The Yankees have a weak bullpen and not a lot of bench strength, which has continually proved their undoing over the last four years and will continually do so.

Looking at all the lineups in the league, who seems to have the strongest bullpen and bench? The Marlins have a decent bullpen, and a bench made up of reliable veteran players. The Twins are always strong in each of those departments. The Orioles as mentioned before are strong in these locations, as are the Angels and Dodgers. Add the Red Sox in there as well. Sound familiar? Most of these teams have been successful in the playoffs over the last few years, and there is a reason for that. The time where you can buy a world series is over, and you may see more teams adapting a New England Patriots type of management style. And of course, the infamous Moneyball way.

Yankees 2005 Line-Up:
1. Jeter SS
2. Rodriguez 3B
3. Sheffield RF
4. Posada C
5. Matsui LF
6. Williams CF
7. Giambi/Sierra DH
8. Martinez 1B
9. Womack 2B

2005 Rotation:
1. Johnson
2. Pavano
3. Brown
4. Wright
5. Mussina

Yankees 1998 Line-Up:
1. Knoblauch
2. Jeter SS
3. O’Neil RF
4. Martinez 1B
5. Williams CF
6. Spencer/Strawberry DH
7. Brosius 3B
8. Curtis LF
9. Girardi/Posada C

1998 Rotation:
1. Cone
2. El Duque
3. Irabu
4. Pettitte
5. Wells

Goodbye Dick Radatz

Yesterday it was as if the world wanted to share the mood of those who attended Dick Radatz's memorial service. Along with family, former teammates and a representation of the North Shore Spirit - the affiliate where he was the pitching coach - were a handful of fans.

The whole ceremony was striking in its deeply personal and heartfelt simplicity. It was a moving ceremony with tributes from Don Gile, Johnny Pesky and his daughter, Leigh Radatz. She mentioned his knees giving him trouble, but she felt it was not from just carrying the weight of his body but also from carrying the weight of a heart made of gold. In that one statement, she fully painted the picture of the man many of us will only see as an aging baseball card from our childhood or an entry in something like the Baseball Encyclopedia. This is a man to whom his children paid a beautiful tribute. This is a man that made Johnny Pesky choke up and Don Gile wipe his eyes as they shared some of their memories.

There will be plenty of people out there that will pay tribute to the ball player, but I can't help but wish the people who paid tribute to the man drown out those voices to help all of us remember that beneath all the numbers and stats, the players we watch so closely are people first. In the end, what counts is not how many you struck out or how many homers you hit - it is how those who know you best remember you off the field.