by Bruce Markusen

Final Postseason Edition

October 31, 2003

This is the final edition of “Cooperstown Confidential” for the 2003 season. I’d like to thank all of the loyal readers, those who have taken the time to write and provide feedback, and especially those who have offered their kind support and encouragement. I’m not sure what the immediate future holds for “Cooperstown Confidential,” but hopefully I’ll be able to make periodic visits to this and other web sites during the winter. Any suggestions for improving the column are certainly welcome. Most importantly, thanks for reading.

[This article is being reprinted here at Bronx Banter with the permission of Bruce Markusen. For previous editions of "Cooperstown Confidential" head over to Baseball Primer. --AB]

YANKEES CIRCA 2004

Even before they lost the World Series in six games to the Florida Marlins, some writers had called for massive rebuilding to take place in the Bronx over the winter. Other observers, taking a different course, point out that the New York Yankees couldn’t be that flawed, since they came within two games of winning their fifth World Championship under Joe Torre. In truth, the reality of the situation lies somewhere in between. The Yankees don’t need to be rebuilt from top to bottom (even though George Steinbrenner probably has a differing opinion on that right now), but they can’t afford to stand pat either, principally because of their collective age and the retirement of Roger Clemens. Instead, the Yankees need to perform some significant tinkering, not only in terms of acquiring outside talent but also in rearranging some of the current parts so that they fit better along the defensive spectrum.

While there’s always the question of what should be done, that often doesn’t mesh with the changes that will be done. So with an eye toward the logical and the reasonable, here’s a plan of action—position by position—that the Yankee brass might take during a cold, hard winter:

Catcher: Jorge Posada is one of the few Yankees that can safely be called untouchable. In spite of a poor postseason (capped off by a failure to block and tag in Game Six), Posada just completed his best all-around season, reaching the 30-home run and 100-RBI marks for the first time while displaying better agility and a stronger throwing arm behind the plate. Posada’s presence means the Yankees will ignore the two hot catching commodities on the free agent market: Ivan “Pudge” Rodriguez and Javier Lopez. Now if Rodriguez were willing to switch positions and play second or third base, then that might become a different story, but the Marlins’ postseason MVP isn’t likely to make that switch after a hallmark season behind the plate.
First Base/ Designated Hitter: Here’s where the questions begin. Will the Yankees continue to use Nick Johnson at first base and hope that he can improve his pitiful ability to scoop low throws, or will they gamble on Jason Giambi, hoping that his knee problems aren’t chronic and won’t prevent him from playing 120 or more times on the infield? Despite the off-the-record belief of some Yankee front office members that Giambi is as soft as pudding and tightens up under pressure, the Yankees realistically aren’t going to spend much time trying to shop him and his large contract this winter. Instead, they’ll hope that knee surgery helps in the short term and that he’ll lose about 10 to 15 pounds in an effort to put less stress on his legs. Under a best-case scenario, Giambi will be able to return to the pounding of first, and at worst, he’ll become an expensive DH. In contrast, Johnson’s status remains far more muddled than that of Giambi. The organization remains split on his potential, with some movers and shakers willing to offer him, primarily because of his frequent hand injuries, to the Expos for stud right-hander Javier Vasquez. Others in the front office feel that Johnson is a building block and shouldn’t be traded for anything less than a king’s ransom. My guess? The Yankees will dangle Johnson, end up trading him for a quality pitcher or a very good outfielder, and move Bernie Williams into the DH role on a fulltime basis.

Second Base: Only one thing seems certain at this troublesome position: the Yankees will have a different everyday second baseman in 2004. Let’s face it, Willie Randolph has already put in countless hours with Alfonso Soriano, but he’s made only small improvements at the position and doesn’t figure to get sufficiently better to avoid being a liability. Soriano simply doesn’t have the hands of a middle infielder, but his speed and athleticism make him an acceptable fit in the outfield. He has a strong arm, but it’s an infielder’s arm, and no one knows for sure how that will translate to the outfield, so we’ll have to wait and see whether he ends up in center or in right field. And then there’s always the option of a trade, which seems like a greater possibility with each passing day). The Royals have already expressed some interest in a Soriano-for-Carlos Beltran swap, but Beltran’s agent is Scott Boras, which is always an obstacle. The Yankees still love Soriano’s talent, but they’ve grown weary of his inability to make adjustments at the plate, his unwillingness to take pitches, and his continuing lapses of concentration in the field. Soriano will probably be traded away, with the Yankees acquiring another second baseman and/or an outfielder in return… So who ends up at second base? The trade market could feature Jose Vidro, but the Expos will want a lot in exchange (Soriano?). Roberto Alomar, Luis Castillo, and Fernando Vina are potential free agent options, but Alomar wants no part of Chapter Two in New York, Castillo prefers playing for a small market team, and Vina will be 35 years old next April (plus the Cardinals may pick up his $4.5 million option and then try to trade him.) Here’s where the Yankees could get creative, by moving one of their other infielders to second base. Keep reading.

Shortstop: Derek Jeter’s diminishing range used to be an acceptable problem, if only because the Yankees kept winning championships with him at shortstop. Well, now they haven’t won a title in three years, and Jeter’s range is only becoming more limited, in part because of injury and partly because of age. If the Yankees were smart, they’d make a full-bore run at Japanese free agent stud Kaz Matsui, make him their everyday shortstop, and move Jeter to second base, where his lack of range would become less of a liability. And for the first time ever, the Yankees are actually giving a sliver of thought to moving Jeter to another spot, be it second base, third base, or the outfield. In reality, though, the conservative Yankees probably won’t make such a daring move this winter, which means they won’t be able to sign Matsui, who wants to remain a shortstop (and he’s a good one). The end result? Status quo at shortstop for 2004.

Third Base: There’s been some talk that the Yankees might not tender a contract to Aaron Boone because of his offensive flailings and fielding yips in the Series, but they’re not willing to embarrass themselves by having nothing to show for the Brandon Claussen deal. Besides, Torre loves Boone’s makeup and attitude, and wants him back in the Bronx next year. So look for the Yankees to re-sign Boone, with an outside possibility of moving him to second base if they’re able to swing a deal for a better hitting third baseman. Another possibility is potential free agent Mike Lowell, but his defensive play at the corner has the Yankees concerned, especially with Jeter already overexposed on the left side of the infield.

Outfielders: Hideki Matsui will certainly be a part of the Yankee outfield picture in 2004; it’s just a question of whether he’ll play left field, center field, or right field. Matsui’s range and throwing arm make him best suited for left, but right now he’s a better center field option than Bernie Williams, whose postseason foibles in the field have convinced the Yankees to make him a DH and/or a left fielder. Matsui can also play right field, but his lack of arm strength and the availability of free agents Vladimir Guerrero and Gary Sheffield make that the least likely of the scenarios. Both Guerrero and Sheffield are high contact/high on-base percentage hitters (each had 400-plus OBPs, with fewer than 60 strikeouts), which is exactly the kind of hitter the Yankees need after their swing-and-miss postseason. Guerrero is the better of the two choices, if only because he’s only 27, making him seven years younger than Sheffield. Plenty of concerns have been raised about Guerrero’s introverted personality making him a bad fit for New York, but the Yankees have a manager like Torre and high character players like Jeter, Posada, and Williams who can help the shy Guerrero acclimate himself to life in the Bronx fishbowl. As for Sheffield, he wants to play in New York, Steinbrenner likes him, and there’s always the Dwight Gooden connection, but the addition of a soon-to-be 35-year-old outfielder to an already aging roster has to raise some red flags… So what will the Yankees do with their muddled outfield situation? Look for Matsui to remain in left, Williams to move to DH (with occasional duty in the outfield), Soriano or a trade piece to take over in center, and the multi-talented Guerrero to occupy right. One way or another, the Yankees will have a far different outfield in 2004.

Bench: John Flaherty did an acceptable job as Posada’s backup, but he’s a free agent who’s thought about retirement within the last year. The Yankees would love a better-hitting backup here, especially one who bats from the left side, but one option was removed when Greg Myers re-signed with Toronto. Another possibility, albeit from the right side, could be the Mets’ Vance Wilson, who might not be tendered a contract for 2004… Enrique Wilson experienced another poor season at the plate, making it questionable whether the Yankees will bring him back at a salary of $750,000. That’s a lot of money to pay for a player who hasn’t hit since his days in Cleveland, and who is nothing special in the field or on the bases. The Yankees just might cut bait with Wilson and replace him with the cheaper and more athletic Erick Almonte… In the outfield, Torre likes David Dellucci for his defensive play and versatility, along with his ability to bunt and steal bases. The Yankees will probably bring both Dellucci (contact) and Karim Garcia (power) back, giving them two different kinds of left-handed hitting options for the late innings. As for Ruben Sierra, Torre likes him now that he’s shown a willingness to embrace a backup role, but his inability to play the outfield acceptably will likely make him the odd man out… Once heralded as a top prospect, Juan Rivera now projects as no more than a backup, but could return as a sixth outfielder (if the Yankees carry that many). Otherwise, he’ll be traded, since he has nothing left to prove at the Triple-A level. He might become a throw-in to a package that features either Johnson or Soriano… And what about Bubba Trammell, you ask? That remains anybody’s guess. I have no idea really.

Starting Pitching: Forget about those reports that indicate otherwise; Roger Clemens is not coming back to pitch another season in the big leagues, so the Yankees will have to replace him with another durable right-hander. They have mixed feelings about Bartolo Colon because of his ever-expanding girth, but also have doubts about Kevin Millwood’s willingness to switch from the National League. (Millwood could be headed back to Atlanta, according to recent reports.) Then there’s always Montreal’s Javier Vasquez, whom the Yankees admire from afar, even if it might cost them Nick Johnson and another player… There’s been a lot of speculation about Andy Pettitte leaving as a free agent (how many times during the postseason did we have to hear FOX broadcasters say this might be his last start in Pinstripes?), but that’s not likely to happen. He loves playing in New York, the Yankees adore his consistency and character, and the Rangers (a logical destination) have already said they don’t have the cash to reel in the 21-game winner. There’s been recent talk that the Braves have interest in Pettitte, but after all is said and done, the reliable lefty will return to the Bronx, taking his rightful place as the No. 2 starter behind Mike Mussina… David “Jumbo” Wells, however, is highly unlikely to return. Not wanting to pick up his $6 million option, the Yankees will try to convince Wells to take a smaller contract, but the hefty lefty will probably opt for greener salaries elsewhere. If Wells had pitched well and picked up a win in Game Five, this whole scenario might have turned out much differently, but the Yankees have serious questions about his back—and his willingness to pitch through pain… So with Clemens and Wells gone, who steps into the rotation? Jose Contreras will become a fulltime starter, which is where he belongs. The Yankees are hoping that Jon Lieber can return from major arm surgery and become a decent starter at the back-end of the rotation. Jeff Weaver remains another option, but the Yankees will do everything they can to find a suitor, even if it means picking up the rest of the $15 million on his contract. If recent rumors that had Weaver going to St. Louis for J.D. Drew or to Anaheim for Darin Erstad are anything remotely close to the truth, then there might still be a market for the talented but high-strung right-hander.

Bullpen: Mariano Rivera is as untouchable as any Yankee, but general manager Brian Cashman will continue make efforts in upgrading the set-up relief corps, which remains an area of concern. From the right side, the Yankees are hopeful that Steve Karsay can return from elbow surgery, but they’re not banking on him regaining his prior effectiveness. They’d like to bring in LaTroy Hawkins as a free agent, with the idea of using him as Rivera’s set-up man and simultaneously grooming him to become Mo’s successor. Another possibility is Shigetoshi Hasegawa, who was unhittable for most of the season before struggling as Seattle’s closer; Hasegawa’s agent has already expressed an interest in coming to New York. The Yankees will also consider two right-handers from within, Jorge DePaula and the flamethrowing Scott Proctor, who came over as part of the Robin Ventura deal and posted 26 K’s and only three walks in 19 innings at Triple-A Columbus. The addition of both a live-armed youngster and a veteran free agent will probably result in the end of Jeff Nelson’s second tenure in New York. The Yankees have already decided to part ways with Antonio Osuna, who’s now a free agent after not being included on any of the postseason rosters… In terms of left-handed relief, the Yankees will have plenty of that commodity in 2004. Felix Heredia has already indicated he’ll exercise his contract option for next year and the Yankees are likely to do the same for Gabe White. And then there’s change-up specialist Chris Hammond, whose contract probably mandates a return to the Bronx in 2004 but who also represented the Yankees’ biggest mystery this past postseason. After pitching reasonably well during the regular season, the Yankees left Hammond off their Division Series and League Championship Series rosters and only activated him for the World Series because of a pitching crunch caused by Game Five of the LCS. Then, in the turning-point game of the Series, Joe Torre opted to use Jeff Weaver ahead of Hammond, even though the left-hander had been far more effective during the regular season. That’s never been fully explained and makes one wonder if Torre will be any more willing to use Hammond in 2004.

Coaching Staff: Only two Yankee coaches appear secure for next season: third base coach Willie Randolph and bullpen coach Rich Monteleone. Bench coach Don Zimmer has already announced his departure, hitting instructor Rick Down has been fired, and pitching coach Mel Stottlemyre is expected to announce his retirement shortly. In addition, Lee Mazzilli will probably find himself elsewhere; he just interviewed for the Orioles’ managerial slot and, even if he doesn’t get the job, he’s still likely to be replaced as New York’s first base coach… Several names have been rumored to succeed Down as hitting coach, including former Yankees Chili Davis and Don Mattingly. (Davis, in particular, would be a great choice because of his ability to relate to today’s player and his sound hitting philosophies.) One non-Yankee who has no ties to the organization, Gary Gaetti, has also been mentioned, but the powers-that-be have to hope that Gaetti will preach more patience at the plate than he displayed during his long playing career… Luis Sojo will probably succeed Mazzilli as first base coach, in part because of his ability to relate to the team’s Latin American players. That’s an angle that’s been missing from the Yankee coaching staff since the firing of Jose Cardenal… As for the new bench coach, that might be the most intriguing story of all. Former Yankee Joe Girardi, who would like to manage eventually, is rumored to have interest in the bench coach position, which would give him valuable experience in running a game from the dugout. Yet, the odds-on favorite for the job appears to be former Red Sox manager Grady Little, who is still respected for his baseball knowledge if not for his in-game pitching decisions. Another possible landing place for Little is Columbus, where he might end up as manager of the Yankees’ top minor league affiliate.

Hall of Fame Handbook

In honor of the 2003 World Champion Marlins, let’s present the all-gone-fishin’ team, courtesy of the hardworking staff at the Hall of Fame:

Catcher: Fred “Whale” Walters

First Base: Lefty Herring

Second Base: Fred “Muscles” Vaughn

Shortstop: Bobby Sturgeon

Third Base: Marty “The Octopus” Marion (played two games at third base)

Outfield: Kevin Bass

Outfield: Jesse “The Crab” Burkett

Outfield: Tim Salmon

RHP: Jim “Catfish” Hunter

LHP: Steve Trout

Reliever: Marlin Stuart

Manager: Lipman Pike

Umpire: Bill “Catfish” Klem

Pastime Passings

Josh Brinkley (Died on October 16 in Wallace, North Carolina; age 30; car accident): The hitting coach for the independent Bangor Lumberjacks of the Northeast League, Brinkley was jogging near the side of a road when he was struck and killed by a passing car. Brinkley had joined Bangor this season after previously working for Lincoln in the Northern League. His minor league playing career included stops in Harrisburg (a Montreal Expos affiliate) and independent Little Falls, where he batted .327 during the 2000 season.

Joan Kroc (Died on October 12 in San Diego; age 75; brain cancer): Kroc became the owner of the San Diego Padres after the death of her husband, Ray, in 1984. (Mr. Kroc had purchased the Padres in 1974, thus preventing the team from moving to Washington.) Mrs. Kroc remained owner of the franchise until 1990, when she decided to sell the team in order to spend more time with her family. Noted for her philanthropic efforts, Kroc contributed time and money to a number of causes, including health care, cancer research, and the fight against AIDS.

Frank McCormack (Died on October 9 in Bakersfield, California; age 84): A onetime scout for the New York Yankees, McCormack also worked as a trainer in the minor leagues. In addition to his professional association with the game, he was a passionate fan of the Brooklyn Dodgers and a longtime member of the Society for American Baseball Research. McCormack wrote a regular trivia column for a Dodgers’ fan newsletter.

John Raymond Gora (Died on October 7 in Danville, Illinois; age 91; complications from a stroke): An award-winning photographer, Gora captured one of the most memorable pictures in baseball history—a still shot of Chicago White Sox outfielder Al Smith being showered with a cup of beer while trying to catch a home run ball in Game Two of the 1959 World Series. At the time a photographer for the Chicago Tribune, Gora had begun his career in 1927 as a copy boy for the Chicago Herald-News. He joined the staff of the Tribune in 1942, remaining there until his retirement in 1977.

Stephen Gates (Died on October 4 in Hillsborough, North Carolina; age 27): Gates was serving as the media relations director for the independent Northeast League at the time of his death. He was killed in a hit-and-run accident after stopping to fix a flat tire on the interstate near Hillsborough.

Cooperstown Confidential writer Bruce Markusen is the author of three books on baseball, including A Baseball Dynasty: Charlie Finley’s Swingin’ A’s (ISBN number 1-878282-23-9), which is available at www.amazon.com and at many major bookstores, including Borders Books. Markusen has also written The Orlando Cepeda Story and Roberto Clemente: The Great One. A fourth book, The Kid: The Life of Ted Williams, is scheduled for release in the spring of 2004.

The more I think about it, the more frightened I am about the prospect of the Red Sox getting Alex Rodriguez. Think about it: A Rod and the Sox are a perfect fit. The Sox would land a great player who actually loves to deal with the media. Think he would wilt when the Boston press turned on him? Well, considering the kind of negative publicity that A Rod has endured over the past three seasons, I seriously doubt it. Whether you think he's a phoney or not, Rodriguez is one smooth customer when it comes to media relations.

A Rod is also a better player than either Nomar or Manny. He'd be the greatest player the Sox have had since Babe Ruth. Then Boston would have the kind of marketable star who would not only match Derek Jeter in terms of exposure and popularity, but he'd most likely blow "Mr. Clutch" out of the water too. (Oh yeah, A Rod is also a much better player than DJ as well.) You'd better believe that Rodriguez would like to up the ante on his old pal, Jeteronomy as well.

How about 75 home runs? Think the friendly confines of Fenway Park appeal to Mr. Rodriguez? Here's another question: Do you think Boston is on A Rod's radar? Come on, now. Rodriguez would be able to escape Texas to a place where baseball matters more than life or death. He'd be smack dab in the middle of the most intense rivalry in the game, and of course, he'd still be the best player in the league.

Plus, he'd be able to ride shotgun as Boston's marquee player when the Sox finally topple the Yankees (I should say "if", but count me amongst those who believe the Sox will have their day before long). It's almost too good to be true. (The thought of Curt Schilling or Billy Wagner in Beantown ain't making me too happy either.) An' that's why I am ascared. But hey, I'm a jittery sort. I scare easily.

Meanwhile, two more Cuban ballplayers recently defected and plan to play professional baseball in the States. Maels Rodriguez is a 24-year old pitcher, and Yobal Dueñas is a 31-year old second basemen. Keep your eyes on this developing story...

The New YorkPost is reporting that Popeye Zimmer is close to signing on as a bench coach for Lou Pinella and the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. I'm sure Lou would love to tweak his old friend George by having Zim on his bench. It'd be the He-Man-George-Hater-Club.

George Steinbrenner will not fall for the Rope-a-Dope ploy the Red Sox set up for him when they placed Manny Ramirez on irrevocable waivers. The Yankees, along with the Mets, will pass on Manny's services. The rest of baseball isn't chomping at the bit either. According to The Boston Globe:

"Who's going to take that deal?" said one major league team executive. "There aren't many teams that can afford him. The guy is not a National League player, for one. He can't play defense, and his contract goes forever. And he's a disruptive guy on a good team; what would he be like on a bad team?"

The Red Sox were banking on George's impulsiveness, but the old man won't bite, thank goodness. Regardless, Dan Shaughnessy likes how the Sox are thinking:

The Sox have made a bold statement to their 31-going-on-12-year-old slugger. Next time Manny and his greedy agent, Jeffrey Moorad, start talking about Manny not being comfortable in Boston and wanting to be traded, the Sox have an answer. We couldn't give you away, Manny. Not with that contract. Not with your childish history of Manny being Manny.Forget the idea that the Sox have embarrassed Manny. Ramirez and his agent asked for this. They've been begging the Sox to trade him to the Yankees. The Sox have told them the Yankees won't pick up his contract, never mind part with players. To prove their point, the Boston ball club is demonstrating the Yankees won't pick up Manny's deal even if there's no trade involved. Nice going, Sox.

John Harper and Joel Sherman think that George is doing the right thing too. Kevin Kernan floats a rumor that I feared from the start: Boston plans to move both Manny and Nomar and trade for Alex Rodriguez. It makes sense to me. I don't know whether there is any truth to it, of course. But I always imagine the worst case scenerio and run with it.

Just because the season is over, doesn't mean that the Yankee-Red Sox rivalry has slowed down any. There is plenty of excitement around the blogging community this morning. Red Sox fans seem particularly excited about Boston's willingness to rid themselves of Manny Ramirez (Peter Gammons has the inside scoop). Check out what (Fox-free) Edward Cossete, Ben Jacobs and Larry Mahnken and David Pinto have to say (Pinto actually makes several points about what moves the Yankees should make that I agree with, i.e. moving Mr. Clutch to the hot corner).

Meanwhile, Bryan Smith has his own ideas about what the Yankees should do for 2004 over at Wait 'Til Next Year. Bryan likes the idea of keeping Felix Heredia. I am fine with that, but the reliever I truly covet, is Shigetoshi Hasegawa. For starters, I would just love to hear Bob Shepard announce his name at the Stadium.

CULT FAILURE

Pat Jordan is from the Old School. He is not politically correct. He drinks booze and calls women broads, and frankly, doesn't care if you like it or not. He also writes in a clean, succinct style that is clearly old fashioned (God bless him). That may explain why you mainly see his work in The New York Times Magazine. Jordan was a bonus baby in the Braves organization in the late 1950’s. He was a promising young pitcher but never made it even close to the Majors. He later became a journalist, and a decade after his playing career ended, Jordan released “A False Spring,” a memoir about his baseball life (and death). “A False Spring” went on to become a minor classic. Less than ten years ago, Jordan wrote a follow-up memoir, “A Nice Tuesday,” in which he continued to examine what went wrong with his career as a jock. Jordan has also written several other sports books, as well as a thriller series, that according to the author, “isn’t so thrilling, but there is lots of sex and violence.”

I had the opportunity to speak with Jordan late this summer. He is a blunt but funny guy, a real straight shooter. Some of our conversation may seem dated, but I doubt that will be a problem for the reader. The Hot Stove is here, and this is a long one, so dig in and enjoy.

Bronx Banter: You are most famous for your first baseball memoir “A False Spring.” But I actually prefer the second one, “A Nice Tuesday.”

Pat Jordan: So do I. Nobody else does. I thought “A Nice Tuesday” was much better, but that’s the way it goes.

BB: I felt that the second book actually made the first one richer, deeper.

PJ: The other thing with the first book is that I assumed a persona. You know what I mean? And some of it doesn’t ring true to me today because it was a persona that I was working on. Whereas with “A Nice Tuesday” I didn’t have any persona. To me, it was much more natural. In other words, I wasn’t trying to create a character, it was just me. In “A False Spring” I created myself as much harder-edged than I really was. I wasn’t stupid enough to go up to two girls and say, “Oh, who are the cunts?” I wasn’t that dumb. It was too stylized as far as I was concerned. Whereas with “A Nice Tuesday” I didn’t have any motives other than just getting it all down.

BB: There was self-consciousness about the writing in “A False Spring” that didn’t exist in “A Nice Tuesday.”

PJ: Absolutely.

BB: You were in your early 30s when you wrote “A False Spring,” and the book is about you trying to figure out what happened to you in your early 20s. It felt as if you still didn’t really know what had happened yet.

PJ: Absolutely.

BB: “A Nice Tuesday” has the advantage of perspective. Also, you only hinted at your family story in the first book, and that is fleshed out much more in the second one.

PJ: I skipped over it in “A False Spring.” I think it’s only in the first chapter. The second book was really a memoir that had very little to do with baseball. You know, we had reviews that complained because it wasn’t “A False Spring.” One review out in San Diego by an ex-ballplayer complained there wasn’t enough baseball, and there was all this bullshit about dogs.

BB: I liked the stuff about your dogs.

PJ: Well even if you don’t like dogs, it was part of the whole thing. I was trying to use Bubba, for example, as a stand-in for me.

BB: He was the dog who got so unruly that you had to get rid of him. But you sympathized with him because he was just being his natural self.

PJ: Exactly. I was trying to say that at least I could change my personality a little bit as a human being, but poor Bubba was trapped into his. The difference between the two books is that “A False Spring” was plotted, and it was mechanical. In other words, I was going to touch every base: what it was like to be in Yankee Stadium, what it was like to be in spring training. “A Nice Tuesday” wasn’t plotted. I never planned on writing about dogs when I started the book. The original book was to be about pitching at 56. And then I started this stuff, and I called up my editor and said, “Do you mind if I put in this drag racing stuff?” He said, “No, go ahead.” I said, “What about this dog stuff? The dog’s keep popping up.” So what I learned with “A Nice Tuesday” is be less disciplined and more open to mystery, and to let things come that intruded themselves whenever they wanted to.

BB: Was “A False Spring” your first full-length book?

PJ: No, the first book I wrote was called “The Black Coach.” It was a book about a black football coach who took over a white high school football team in North Carolina in 1971, I think it was. 1972. That was really the first book I had ever written.

BB: Was it a novel?

PJ: Oh, no. It was a non-fiction book. It’s a good book. It’s pure reporting. On e-bay, they want a fortune for it. I’ve seen it go for $175-$200 for the book. All of my books are like leaves of grass. If you are lucky enough to have an unsigned copy, you are in great shape. I tell my friends who want it signed, no, keep the unsigned copy, it’s worth more.

BB: Did you write “Suitors of Spring” next?

PJ: Yeah, that was the second book. It was a collection of Sports Illustrated pieces. Then “A False Spring” was the third one. I had a three-book contract with this publisher, Dodd Mead, and “A False Spring” was the one that they really wanted. They wouldn’t give me enough to write it, so I said, “Do a collection of my Sports Illustrated pieces.” This way I’d get paid twice. That way I was able to write “A False Spring.” Which didn’t do well. It didn’t sell many books. None of my books have sold anything. I’m sort of like a cult failure. You know the guy from New Orleans who wrote “Confederacy of Dunces?” He was a cult success. I’m a cult failure.

BB: Hey, at least you’re alive to see your own failure.

PJ: Yeah, they either drink themselves to death or kill themselves. I can’t afford to, I’ve got too many bills. I have to keep working. Every time I think, “Oh, I can shoot myself,” I’m like, “But who is going to take care of the dogs and Susan? Who is going to pay the mortgage?” I can’t afford it.

BB: Susan, your second wife, is Meg Ryan’s mom.

PJ: That’s right.

BB: I really liked your observations about Meg Ryan’s acting. About how she plays it safe.

PJ: Oh yeah, she plays it safe. And at first I was putting her down. But when it came time for me to pitch again, I realized the kind of fears she must have to branch off into something different. Actually, my wife is doing a fit, because Meg Ryan is doing a movie called “In the Cut” which she has naked sex scenes in. I said, “Maybe she’ll blame that on you Susan, she blames everything else on you.” I’m dying to find out what kind of body she has. I said, “I’ve only had your body, maybe hers is better.” But I understand her completely. It’s like when you get that sliver of success, you are terrified that you might lose it. So you never do anything different. One of the problems with what I’ve done over the years is that I’ve never done the same thing. I didn’t do what George Plimpton did and write the same book five times. I have a novel out right now, and nobody has any idea that it’s me. It’s called, “AKA Sheila Weinstein.” It’s the second novel in a trilogy and there is no sports in it. But it keeps me interested.

BB: How long did you write for Sports Illustrated?

PJ: Seven or eight years. 1970-’78, something like that. Then I did books for a couple of years, then I worked for GQ for a couple of years. I write mostly for The New York Times [magazine] right now. I write for everybody, you name it. I had a piece in Playboy last month. I do whoever pays.

BB: The piece you did on Clemens a couple of years ago really changed my perception of the guy.

PJ: Roger? What did you think of him before you read it?

BB: Well, I’m a Yankee fan.

PJ: I’m a Yankee fan.

BB: Yeah, well, then you should know how I feel. I rooted against him for all those years. I hated Clemens. I just thought he was a big prick from Texas, by way of Boston and how much worse can you get than that for a Yankee fan? But I felt that you painted him as this big, goofy narcissist.

PJ: Yeah, he’s a total narcissist, but he’s also…he’s not bright. It’s sort of like being with an overgrown child. He’s a hyperactive child, all the time. I’m a believer that the reason he works out so hard is to burn off energy. Cause he’s like the kid that you have to keep chocolate away from, you know? You know when you have the kid, he can’t concentrate on anything and the doctor says, “Don’t let him eat chocolate?” That’s Roger Clemens. He’s not…he’s not a bad guy, he’s just arrested development, I guess. You think you are with an arrogant fourteen year-old kid when you’re with him. You’re not with a grown up.

BB: Have you been around Torre’s Yankee teams in the past five or six years?

PJ: Yeah. Oh, yeah I’ve been around them a lot. I did a piece on Torre for the Times, Bernie Williams, and Roger Clemens. I like the Yankee teams of the Paul O’Neill era. I’m not crazy about last year’s team or this year’s team. They’ve got all these guys with numbers. But when they had Paul O’Neill and Brosius and Knoblauch---guys that didn’t have any numbers, they won four World Series. Because those guys didn’t know how to lose. I mean, the greatest at-bat that I’ve ever seen, was against the Braves when John Rocker was pitching to Paul O’Neill.

BB: When Paulie O fisted the single through the right side.

PJ: Right. And he fouled off like twelve pitches. And here’s a left-handed pitcher, throwing to a left-handed hitter, and the pitcher is throwing 97 miles an hour---with that sweeping slider---and this guy stayed in there for like twelve or fourteen pitches, and hit a ground ball single, that either tied the game or put the Yankees ahead.

BB: I think it put them ahead.

PJ: I thought that was the greatest at-bat I’ve seen in baseball. Because there was no way Paul O’Neill should have gotten wood on the ball. That was what those Yankees were. These new Yankees…I like the Japanese guy. He’s a good ballplayer.

BB: Matsui fits right into the professional Yankee mold very well.

PJ: I like him.

BB: What about Giambi?

PJ: I don’t know if he’s got it. I mean, he’s a home run hitter, but I’m not sure. Matsui reminds me a little bit of O’Neill. Soriano, I don’t know. Jeter, I like, I like Williams.

BB: What were your impressions of Bernie after you did an article on him?

PJ: I like Bernie. Sensitive guy. I think he passes for being more sensitive than he truly is as a baseball player. With ballplayers, a little sensitivity goes a long way. I like Bernie a lot. I think he’s more spacey than sensitive. He passes as a sensitive guy, but really, he’s a space cadet.

BB: Part of it is that he looks sensitive, like Tim Duncan looks sensitive.

PJ: Yeah, with the glasses and he’s soft spoken.

BB: Bernie is a great player but he doesn’t seem like a natural on the baseball field. Jeter is a natural. Bernie came out with his first album this summer, and sometimes he strikes me as a musician who happens to play baseball for a living. He plays ball extremely well, but it’s not his true calling.

PJ: Bernie is the kind of guy where everybody will always be talking about his secondary thing. The kind of guy that no matter what he does, you say, “Yeah, but you should hear him play the guitar.” Or you should hear him do this, or do that. I think that’s what his curse is. That he does everything in such a way that he always gets credit for the secondary, or even third thing that he does. If he was a guitar player you’d say, “Yeah, but you should have seen him play baseball.”

BB: Bernie looks sensitive, just like Benetiz looks fierce.

PJ: With the gold chains. Somebody should rip that gold chain off of Weaver’s neck.

BB: What’s the deal with him anyway?

PJ: Weaver is a fucking wimp.

BB: Is that it?

PJ: It’s gotta be, because Weaver has good stuff. The other thing is, I’d raise his arm level about 45% and have him thrown 3/4 overhand, instead of that side arm shit that he throws. If he got his arm up, and was throwing 93, 94 miles an hour—he’s got a nice, loose delivery---the same fastball that goes left and right with him, would start going down. Once you raise his arm up, get him on top of the ball, that fastball would sink, instead of just left, right. I think that would make a world of difference with him as a pitcher. But, you know…who am I? I’m only a fucking writer.

BB: Is it difficult for a guy to make those adjustments once he’s in the majors for four, or five years?

PJ: Listen, nobody’s going to fuck with Roger Clemens if he’s winning 300 games. But where is Weaver going? He’s with the best club in baseball. I mean, every game he pitches, five innings, five runs, eight hits. If he doesn’t lose the game, he gets taken out and gets no decision. He’s got much better stuff than that.

BB: He looks difficult to talk with. Is it that he just doesn’t want to listen to what Stottlemyre has to tell him?

PJ: I think he’s scared. I don’t think he’s got a lot of balls. He looks scared. He doesn’t look like a guy who has got confidence. Like…I’m not a great Clemens fan, I don’t think Clemens is a gamer. I think Wells is. I like Wells a lot.

BB: What about Mussina?

PJ: I’m not crazy about him either. I’m not crazy about the Yankees starting staff. I’m not crazy about Pettitte, I’m not crazy about Mussina, I’m not crazy about Clemens. I wouldn’t put my money on any of them. I wouldn’t put my money on them like I’d put my money on Pedro Martinez or Randy Johnson or Curt Schilling.

BB: What about Tim Hudson?

PJ: I haven’t seen him enough.

BB: You like Schilling?

PJ: I don’t like him personally, I think he’s an asshole, but I think he’s a strong pitcher. Oh, he’s an ego [driven] media hound, and bullshit artist. But Randy Johnson, I like as a person and he’s a great pitcher.

BB: What don’t you like about Mussina? Is it that he’s too smart for his own good, too cerebral?

PJ: His fastball is straight as a string. I’ve never seen such a straight fastball. He’s got good stuff, but I don’t know. I don’t know what it is. Same thing with Pettitte. He’ll have streaks where he’s unhittable and then he’ll have streaks where he can’t get anybody out. To tell you the truth, if I had to rely on anybody, I’d say that Wells is the best pitcher the Yankees got.

BB: What about Mo Rivera?

PJ: I like him. The guy throws, what is basically a 94 mph slider. His cutter. It’s not a breaking ball in the strike sense of the word; he doesn’t turn his wrist over and all that. But he throws a 94 mph breaking ball. And he’s got great control.

BB: And he’s not like Smoltz, who has three, four, or five different pitches.

PJ: I thought John Smoltz had the best stuff probably in the history of baseball. He’s got a 96-98 mph fastball; he’s got the slider that’s 92. Got a curveball that’s 88. He’s got great control. Some of the best stuff I’ve ever seen. I saw him, first week of spring training, in Palm Springs when the Braves were here, and he was warming up in the bullpen. And the guy was unbelievable. I mean the ball was exploding after one week. And Chipper Jones walks by and makes some comment like, “Still working on your stuff, huh?” But he’s also an awfully weak guy.

BB: Mentally?

PJ: He’s not a strong guy.

BB: Maddux too?

PJ: I don’t know. Can’t win any big ones. I don’t like guys who don’t rely on great stuff. In playoff games, they never seem to do well. You never see those soft-tossers have great playoff runs. They have great years, but in the real crunch, you never see them have great series’. Whereas a power pitcher, even if they are off, they have that power. I would never trust one of those soft-tossers in a big series. I would go with my arms.

BB: Unless his name was Whitey Ford, right?

PJ: No?! Whitey Ford had stuff. You know what the Pittsburgh Pirates said about him when they beat them in the [1960] World Series? They asked Bill Mazerowski what Whitey Ford was, and he said he was Warren Spahn with stuff. Warren Spahn was not a bad pitcher. Whitey Ford, he wasn’t Moyer. He wasn’t even Maddux. No. Whitey Ford? He was my hero. You can’t say anything bad about Whitey.

BB: I love the story from “A False Spring” that involved Joe Torre in spring training.

PJ: You mean when he basically helped ruin my career?

BB: That's the one.

PJ: He didn’t mean it. Let me see how to put it…Joe had a lot of clout in spring training because of his brother Frank. I didn’t. Everybody was looking at him to be a big leaguer. Now, he didn’t get any more money than I did. It wasn’t like he was more talented or more of a prospect. Probably less of a prospect because he didn’t have a good arm or anything.

BB: He was a heavy kid?

PJ: Oh, he was fat. He was a fat kid. We were on the same team in spring training and I was pitching batting practice. A nothing thing. It was for Boise, Idaho, which was the Braves’ pitching team. Which meant, when you went to Boise, you won 18 games automatically because they sent all their best hitters there. It was where they sent their pitchers who they wanted to get confidence because the guys would score twelve runs a game, and every game was 15-6. They’d have earned run averages of 4.85. So you wanted to go to Boise because they had the horses. So I was with Boise. This was in the Northwest league. Torre was the catcher. And I had one of those spring training sore arms, which was not anything serious. It was like a weak arm. I was throwing batting practice and I couldn’t put anything on the ball. And the hitters were complaining. You know, they were ripping everything foul. I wasn’t soft tossing; I just couldn’t put anything on the ball. Joe kept firing the ball back at me, telling me to put something on the ball. And at one point, he walked like ten feet in front of the plate and fired the ball back at me. So he’s cheating now. He’s right on top of me. So I took the ball and turned around and threw it right at the back of his head, as he was walking back. Hit him on the mask. The mask flew off, and he came at me. And we start grappling there, tugging. It wasn’t much. We got separated. The next morning I got sent down to Davenport, the D class club. And I was told by one of the ballplayers---he had heard the managers talking--- and the manager from Boise said, “I won’t have that red ass Ginnea on my team.” My question was why was I the red ass Guinea and not Torre? We’re both Italian. I should have opened my mouth and said I had a sore arm but I didn’t. So I went to Davenport, which was the worst club in the Braves organization and I pitched well and went 6-12. This was the winter instructional league in the fall of ’61. It was all forgotten, and I had a good year that year.

BB: You’ve obviously been in touch with Torre since.

PJ: Oh yeah. If I see him he says “Hi Pat.” Torre and Phil Neikro I see every once in a while. Neikro’s a good man.

BB: Is Torre as genuine as he appears?

PJ: Yah. Joe did the same thing I did: he remade himself. He was an arrogant kid. And I really think he’s a good guy. I think Joe is a good guy.

BB: Did he change his personality during his playing days or is this something you’ve seen happen since he’s been a manager?

PJ: Ah, I don’t know. I didn’t know him much as a ballplayer, all those years in St. Louis. But as a manager: he’s a good guy. I believe that from the little I’ve met him, you know? I could be wrong, but he’s always been all right with me.

BB: Are you surprised that he’s lasted in Boss George’s world so long?

PJ: He’s that kind of guy. He’s deflected it. He doesn’t deflect it too much—look at what happened to Mondesi. Instead of squawking to the press about Mondesi, like most managers would do---he must have called somebody up and said, “I want this fucking guy out of here.” And a week later, he was gone. Benetiz, the same thing. Joe is smart enough not to do it in public. Probably makes a private phone call to somebody, “I can’t work with this guy.” Bernie Williams once told me…When Albert Belle was a free agent and almost came to New York [and Bernie almost became a Red Sox]. I said to Bernie, “Can you live with him in the clubhouse?” He said, “Oh yeah, yeah, we’ll make him adjust. And if he doesn’t,” he said, “he’ll be gone.” That was Bernie’s attitude: either fit in, or get out.

BB: Did you see the story on Barry Bonds toward the end of the year? It was about how he spent the summer caring for his father. He felt that he was finally able to gain his father’s approval before Bobby passed away. I thought it was a very moving piece.

PJ: Five years ago I wanted to do a story on Barry Bonds and his father, who was coaching there at the time. And Barry wasn’t even talking to his father then. Bonds’ people said that he wouldn’t do a story including his father. So, to be honest with you, it smacks of a deathbed confession kind of thing. OK, the father is dying, and I got his approval and blah, blah, blah. But when his father was healthy and was a coach for the Giants, the word out was that they didn’t get along. The New York Times wanted me to do a story on Barry and his father, and he wouldn’t do it. That’s what I know about Barry Bonds.

BB: Your father didn’t teach you how to play ball.

PJ: I had a unique situation where my brother was more of an influence on me than my father. My father was a professional gambler, and had much more weighty things on his mind. Plus, he was never an athlete. He was an Italian immigrant kid. He shot pool. That was about the only thing he ever did, sports-wise. He showed me a clipping once, that was from when he was in grammar school. He was the high scorer of a team that won 8-7 in a grammar school basketball game. And he scored four points. That was his name, Jordan. He was an athletic guy in that he was a good swimmer, good pool player. Oh, he was a good pool player. Real mechanic when it came to shooting pool. Great card dealer. He could do all kinds of tricks with cards. But he was never around. He used to go out on the road a lot to gamble. So he left the growing up to my brother, who was fourteen years older than me. So when I was five he was about twenty. When I was five, we moved from the inner city in Bridgeport, Connecticut, to Fairfield, which were the suburbs. That’s the first time I ever saw a baseball diamond. Down the street from our house, there was a field and that’s where the kids hung out. I met a friend of mine Doug and he went on to be a coach with the Yankees for Billy Martin. Doug was my catcher; we were teammates and stuff like that. He was the first kid I ever met there, and the first thing we ever did was have a catch. That’s all I knew about baseball then. But in those days—we’re talking 1950—baseball was IT. I mean nobody played football. And basketball, that was just recreational. But baseball was it, so we’d all meet at the park and play. My father was never around but it was a good place for him to dump me off. Just so I could amuse myself. When I started to be fairly good, around the age of eight, I made the Little League’s Major League team, which was unheard of. Because eight year olds didn’t make the twelve year old team. So I made it, and that was a big thing in town. You know, the first eight year-old to ever be on the twelve year old club. In those days they didn’t have junior teams either. You either made the Major League club or you didn’t play. Now they’ve got an age group for everybody, no matter how bad you are. So my brother started to take over then because, as I wrote in “A Nice Tuesday,” when the coach called out the first position, “Pitcher,” I just raised my hand because I was so excited. I didn’t know what the hell a pitcher was. When I told my brother that I had signed up to be a pitcher, he started taking over. He taught me what he knew. So he had a big impact on my life. You know what it was like? My father was like the consigliore; he always had words of wisdom for me that were terrific. But the hands-on coaching came from my brother?

BB: Did you ever play baseball more for your brother’s approval than for your own satisfaction?

PJ: Well, I had them simultaneously. I loved pitching. Pitching is what I was made for. I loved it and I was really good at it. And the fact that I got approval from my family for the first time helped; up ‘til then I was just a pain-in-the-ass that my mother and father wanted to drop off at the park. Their favorite thing was when I went up to my room to draw, or when I went to the movies on the Saturday afternoon matinee. Or when I went up to the park all day and played ball and stayed out of their hair. I was a late child. My mother was like 36. They took care of me. But they didn’t really have a hell of a lot of interest. I started to become a Little League star at the age of ten. And I started to get some recognition and approval from them. I pitched for my brother’s approval because I always admired his judgment, but he was always close to me before I could play ball. He was my favorite when I was five years old and wasn’t a pitcher. He was my idol.

BB: Your relationship wasn’t predicated on your success as an athlete.

PJ: No. My brother was my idol for as long as I can remember. The fact that I started to do something that pleased him, helped. It added to the relationship. But it wasn’t the only thing. After all these years, we still talk. He calls me up the other day because his dog was sick. And he considers me the Dog Guru. He’s pushing eighty now, but he calls me up and I’m still the kid. But he relies on my judgment when it comes to the dogs. We have a much closer relationship than we ever did. But it’s funny, because when I was playing ball I used to go to his Law office every day. We’d go out to lunch and talk about my workouts, my pitching. The next game I was going to pitch, you know? And when I came back from baseball and I went back to his office for lunch again, one day he said to me, “You know I can’t do this everyday. I’ve got a business to run.” There was really nothing else to talk about. My baseball was over. I think my baseball career was more important to my brother in our relationship than it was to me.

BB: What was he getting out of it?

PJ: Oh, a transferential living through my success. My success was always predicated on what he taught me. In other words, it was never just my success; it was that he taught me to be a pitcher. Naturally when I went away [to the minors], he wasn’t there and everything fell apart, it was further proof that without him, I couldn’t cut it. Which is a convoluted thing. It’s true, but not for the reason you’d think. I was so dependent on him, that I had trouble existing away from him. But my pitching was fine. Mentally I got messed up without him as a security blanket.

BB: Behind every successful player is a driven parent, or coaching figure, right? You’ve met so many ballplayers. How many of them do you think are trying to live out their parent’s dreams, or their older brother’s fantasies?

PJ: As far a Bonds goes, I don’t know. I’ve heard that Bobby was tough to get along with as a player. But that wasn’t uncommon for black guys in that era. If they stuck up for themselves they were ‘Hard to get along with,’ know what I mean?

BB: Like Dick Allen.

PJ: Who is a terrific guy. I met him once. He’s the only guy who agreed to do a story with me and I said, “No, I don’t want to bother you.” This is when he was caught smoking pot. He used to smoke pot and I went to talk to him. He had read some of my pieces and I said, “You want to do a story?” And he said, “Oh, man. They’re trying to bury me,” he said. “But I respect your work. All right, if you want to do it.” But I just looked down and said, “Aww, forget it. Forget it, Dick. This is one story; I don’t want to bother you. Just don’t tell anybody I cancelled out. Tell ‘em you didn’t do it.” This was when I was with Sports Illustrated. It’s the only story I’ve ever got that when I got to see the subject I said, “No, I don’t want to do it.” I felt he was too tortured. And I didn’t want to jump on the bandwagon. I don’t know about Bonds. My friend Doug didn’t have a dad to play catch with. I didn’t do it for the approval. I did it for the ego. MY approval. I love my brother, and I loved my father, but I didn’t do it for them. I know this to be true with most ballplayers. To be a good ballplayer you have to do an egomaniac. I knew a kid who lived down the street from me whose father would take him to the park every day and hit him grounders and the kid couldn’t do jack shit. And he tried to do it for his father and only made the Little League as a scrub. By the time he was in high school, he quit. There was a kid who was doing it for his father. But he had no talent. Guys who make it, don’t make it cause they are doing it for their father. I really believe that. I would think that if you scratch most great ballplayers like Clemens—another egomaniac. He told me a couple of years ago about his ailing mother, “I just hope she lives long enough to see me win my 300th game.” I was dumbfounded. Oh, you just want your mother to stick around so she can see you win your 300th game? Jesus Christ. But that’s the kind of attitude it takes. And I’m sure he wasn’t winning ball games for his mother.

The Mets officially hired Jim Duquette the other day as their GM. According to the Daily News, the Metropolitans will also hire Rick Peterson as their pitching coach. Peterson, who made a name for himself with the Oakland A's, gives Mets fans a reason to look forward to the next couple of seasons. Peterson is a progressive thinker, and it will be interesting to see how he develops the young arms in the Mets system.

The Boston Red Sox have placed Manny Ramirez on irrevocable waivers, hoping that there is a team out there that will scoop up their star slugger. However, it is unlikely that there will be suitor for Ramirez, who is due $104 million over the next five years. According to the New York Times:

"It's a weird thing, to be honest with you," said one of the executives, both of whom spoke on condition of anonymity. "I don't know what they're thinking, other than they want to get out from under that contract."

Even if Ramirez isn't picked up by midnight Friday, the Red Sox have sent a message here. They don't want Manny, and I'm assuming that they will eat a chunk of his contract in order to move him before next season. Rob Neyer opines:

My read of the situation is that the Red Sox desperately want to relieve themselves of their $100 million obligation to Ramirez. But why put Ramirez on waivers now, just three days after the World Series?

Because 1) there's only one team that will seriously consider claiming Ramirez, and 2) that team's owner is never going to be more frustrated and more aggressive than he is right now.

Will Steinbrenner rise to the bait? I doubt it.

...What makes all this so fascinating isn't that the Red Sox have placed Ramirez on waivers. That's just common sense. What's fascinating is that the Red Sox are essentially offering a great player to their sworn enemies, gratis. The reports I've seen mention a number of teams that might be interested in Ramirez, but unless the Red Sox are willing to send a significant sum of money with Ramirez, there's only one team, one owner, that might have serious interest.

Never a dull moment, huh?

One of the things I look forward to most during the off season is being able to sit back and read baseball books. Of course, I love all the Hot Stove activity too—the speculation, the prognositications, and all the daydreams that come with it. But since there isn't a game to watch tonight, and since there won't be any box scores to pour through tomorrow morning, I love to take this time to drift back into history. The beauty part is I can go back to the 1880s, or the 1940s or the 1980s, or anywhere inbetween.

I have a stack of books that I'd like to get to this winter—including Kevin Kerrane's landmark work on scouting, "Dollar Sign on the Muscle," Mike Sowell's book about Carl Mays and Ray Chapman, "The Pitch That Killed," as well as Leo the Lip's famous autobiography, "Nice Guys Finish Last," which was written with Ed Linn—but my work on the Curt Flood biography for Young Adults will likely occupy most of my spare reading time.

That won't stop me from re-reading the collected writings of Tom Boswell, and Roger Angell, which has become an annual event (their books are the perfect companion for a long subway ride). Here is a an excerpt from "La Vida," a piece Angell wrote in 1987 ("Season Ticket"). It popped out at me now that baseball is done for the year, and I thought I'd share it with you:

Baseball is not life itself, although the resemblance keeps coming up. It's probably a good idea to keep the two sorted out, but old fans, if they're anything like me, can't help noticing how cunningly our game replicates the larger schedule, with its beguiling April optimism; the cheerful roughhouse of June; the grinding, serious, unending (surely) business of midsummer; the September settling of accounts, when hopes must be traded in for philosophies or brave smiles; and then the abrupt running-down of autumn, when we wish for—almost demand—a prolonged and glittering final adventure just before the curtain. But nowhere is this metaphor more insistent than in baseball's sense of slippage; our rueful, fleeting awareness that we tend to pay attention to the wrong things—to last night's rally and tomorrow's pitching match-up—while lesser and sweeter moments slide by unperceived. Players notice this, too. Bob Gibson, the most competitive man I have ever seen on a ballfield, once told me that what he missed most after he had retired wasn't the competition at all. "I don't miss the pitching but I can't say I don't miss the game," the Cardinal Hall of Famer said. I miss it a little. There's a lot I don't want to get back to...I think it's the life I miss—all the activity that's around baseball. I don't miss playing baseball but I miss...baseball. Baseball. Does that sound like a crazy man?"

When I'm not dwelling on whether Bernie Williams will hit .300 and score 100 runs next year, I allow myself to get caught up in the details. I miss the private little smirks that Derek Jeter flashes during the course of a game. Or watching Luis Sojo wrap his arm around one of the players and whisper something in his ear. Or trying to figure out all the finger-snaps and handshakes that go on after a home run. Or how the late afternoon light splashes across a ballfield in the spring and then later on, in the fall. Or coming home at night to find Emily already watching the Yanks. I miss baseball. And that makes perfect sense to me.

There is a fine post about the misery of being a baseball fan by Flynn over at Redbird Nation. He talks specifically about St. Louis Cardinals misery, but he's really talking about all of us (well, maybe not Yankee fans, who rate at the top of the list in terms of Fan Enjoyment):

Each year 29 teams go home unhappy and one gets to enjoy it all for about five minutes before the speculation begins about whether they can do it again.

Misery? Fans need misery. Misery begets hope. Hope generates interest, interest turns to obsession, and obsession turns to ecstasy on those rare moments when it all goes your way. Here’s hoping we’ll know what that is again, next year.

Here, here.

I don't know what moves the Yankees will make this off-season, but I'm excited about next year's squad. The 2003 Bombers had a great year, but there is plenty of room for improvement. John Haper suggests that Yankee fans remain calm:

A little perspective, please. This team got to Game 6 of the World Series in a year when virtually all of their stars - except perhaps Jorge Posada - had average or even below-average seasons, at least partly because of injuries.

...They were a flawed team, to be sure. Their weaknesses have been analyzed to death in recent days...But as long as George is free to keep spending, and as long as Torre stays on to maintain sanity in the clubhouse, the Yankees will continue to be October mainstays.

This isn't the '80s, when he threw money at name players without rhyme or reason. Steinbrenner's surrounded by smarter baseball people now who, if nothing else, have made him understand the importance of investing in pitching.

Harper goes on to delineate the moves he would consider making if he ran the Bombers.

I have flip-flopped on the subject of "Jeff Weaver: Yankee pitcher" all season long. One the one hand, he's been infuriating to watch. His demeanor is less than inspiring, but there is something about him that I like too. I think it's because he comes off like a slacker with a chip on his shoulder, or a spoiled and tempermental child, but part of me likes his foolishness. Weaver has been labled as a guy who can't pitch in New York, the new Eddie Lee Whitson. But Whitson was a veteran when he came to the Yankees, and he truly hated pitching for Billy Martin in New York.

Weaver is young, likes it here and wants to stay. I don't know whether he will ever pitch well in New York, or if the Yankees are willing to give him another chance, but it seems like he's got enough 'stuff' to be able to pitch well somewhere. I like how Weaver hasn't completely caved in on himself either, despite being a favorite target of the fans and the media.

The Daily News ran a piece on Weaver's wanting to remain a Yankee yesterday. The headline ran: "Weaver's Pitiful Pitch." So much of objectivity. And this is a guy who wants to do the right thing:

"I like it here," he said. "I love the stage that we get to play on, and I like the focus and competition. ... It's taken a little bit longer than I hoped to get things going, but there's no doubt in my mind that I can get things going here."

..."I went out there and pitched the best I could," said Weaver, who hadn't pitched in a game for 27 days. "I hadn't been out there in a long time, and then you get your first taste of it, right in the mix. I was hoping for the best; I felt confident going in there. I know that I could probably throw the same pitch again, and it could be a ground ball to third base.

"It's something that you never want to really second-guess," he said, "but at the same time it ended the game and changed the complexion of the Series."

Will the Yankees be willing to give this string bean another shot? I would say it's a 50/50 chance at best. But as a number five starter? I would like to see it happen.

Travis Nelson has designed a very amusing diagram of what Yankee Hell looks like right about now. Head over to Boy of Summer and create your own version of Yankee Hell. (Don't forget to include the photo of Zimmer wearing Cliff Huxtable's worst nightmare.)

AND ON AND ON AND ON

There is still plenty of great baseball writing out there, man. Here is a sampling of some of the more interesting articles I've run across this morning:

1. David Pinto links Ira Berkow's sympathetic piece on Joe Torre from Tuesday's Times.

2. Aaron Gleeman is back with another installment of "Rating Derek Jeter," a juicy topic that is sure to keep the traffic flowing.

3. Ben Jacobs and Edward Cossette weigh in on the Boston's decision not to retain Grady Little.

4. Rich Lederer offers an interesting look at Josh Beckett and Roger Clemens.

5. Steve Goldman gives his take on the World Serious and the Yankees' 2003 season over at The Pinstriped Bible.

6. And of course, don't sleep on the latest from two of my favorites: Jay Jaffe and Will Carroll.

Bob Klapisch reports from Tampa and speculates on what moves the Yankees will make this off-season. Larry Mahnken and I were interviewed via e-mail by Bryan Smith about what we would do if we ran the team. I am no expert in this field. In fact, I am a rank amatuer. But that makes me like just about everybody else with an opinion about what should be done. I'm sure I'll be changing my mind about fifty times in the next month. But for my initial, off-the-cuff reactions, head over to Wait 'Til Next Year.

Derek Zumsteg of Baseball Prospectus is another excellent journalist who can be labled as a Yankee-hater. He had a piece on Prospectus yesterday about the run-of-the-mill Yankee fan (subscription is required). I like what he wrote about Jason Giambi:

Dogged by a knee injury that affected his swing, Giambi only hit .250/.412/.527 on the season. Sure, towards the end of the year he tailed off (badly) and when (if) he comes back on a surgically repaired leg he'll need to establish he can hit strikes. And yeah, he's a big guy who likes his women and fast food and we're told, fast women and fast food on fast women, but there's a crazy desire to bury him, to ship him off to the remotest corner of baseball and eat his salary for the remainder of that crazy deal they gave him, all because he had a year that wasn't as spectacularly amazing as the previous three. But he's Jason Freaking Giambi, one of the most feared hitters for years! Turning his hitting struggles into character issues and his character issues into proof he's not a Yankee and thus needs to be exiled--it baffles me.

Derek, I'm less baffled than simply vexed. This is the way it works around here---produce and you are a saint, fail and you are a bum. Oh, brother.

The Yankees fired hitting coach Rick Down yesterday. The only surprise is that Down lasted through the entire season. Joe Torre--who was invited to Boss George's Tampa Summit for the first time--spoke with Down yesterday and wished him the best of luck.

The season really feels over this morning. Not because Down was canned, but because the baseball articles in the papers are dwindling rapidily. We were spoiled in New York once again with a long post-season run. The papers were filled with all sorts of Yankee news on Sunday and Monday and yesterday as well. But today, vacations start, and the dearth of baseball news begins. Anybody ready for the Knicks? (Insert agonizing screams here.)

Still, I think we'll find something to talk about. Somehow, someway.

Aaron Gleeman evaluates the past four post-seasons only to discover that Derek Jeter may not be so "clutch" after all. Jeter fans: brace yourselves.

Rob Neyer has a column on the history of hating the Yankees over at ESPN. You mean everybody doesn't adore the lovable and huggable Bronx Bombers? What gives? I'm shocked.

In the final analysis, here is Neyer's take:

I would suggest that people hate the Yankees for one reason: they win. Yes, there's some hometown antipathy, and management could show a bit more humility when the Yankees do win. But how many people hated the Yankees in the late 1960s or the late 1980s, when they were struggling? I don't remember paying them any mind at all; they were just another overpaid, under-performing team that happened to wear pinstripes.

So, yes, for most of us it's simply the winning. Sour grapes. For me, though, it's more than that. I honestly believe that when the Yankees win, it's unhealthy, because when the Yankees win that becomes the topic of conversation. The Yankees haven't won since 2000, and yet people still tell me all the time how horrible it is, that the Yankees win every year.

...There's a fine line between hating the Yankees and hating what the Yankees mean. I don't exactly know which side of the line I'm on, but I do know that Josh Beckett is going to be one of my favorite pitchers for a long, long time.

Before Yankee fans get too steamed here, just remember that Rob roots for the Royals.

I've made no secret about how much I appreciate Jason Giambi's game. But in the wake of the World Serious loss to Florida, the big lug continues to have his character besmirched by the local press. Yesterday, John Heyman blasted Giambi in Newsday. According to Heyman, the Yankees need to:

Finally pry Jason Giambi's "personal trainer," Bob Alejo, and Giambi's father, John, out of the clubhouse.

"They just legitimize his failures," a Yankees official said of the soft Giambi.

... "The guys who struggled in the postseason were the selfish guys, plus Aaron Boone, who just panicked," another club official said.

... When the heat is on, Giambi melts. This October, he rarely hit when it mattered, and never with anyone on base. Also problematic, he's like a single entity in the clubhouse, he and his enablers. "He'll strike out, then go back into the clubhouse and look at smut magazines," one club official complained about an in-game passion Giambi copped to earlier.

I have no way of knowing whether or not any of this is true or not. I wouldn't be especially shocked if it were true either. But the little kid in me is sticking by my boy. I know the alarmists--or realists---have a point: Giambi is now a gimpy DH with many years remaining on a bloated contract. His decline could start sharply. He will most likely not return to the form he displayed in Oakland. But I will have faith until further notice, and I'm expecting Giambi to be a great hitter again next season.

It should come as no surprise to anyone that the management of the Boston Red Sox have decided not to bring Grady Little back to manage the team in 2004. Little took a beating in the Boston Press after the Red Sox lost Game 7 of the ALCS and he knew last week that it was all but over for him in New England. There was a shrill cry for his head in Red Sox Nation too.

Is this the right move? Has management under-appreciated Little's contributions? Regardless of whether or not you hold Little accountable for Boston's Game 7 loss, he had two terrific seasons in Beantown. The 2003 team showed the kind of resolve and determination that kept Yankee fans up at night all season long. But as Gordon Edes notes in The Boston Globe, Game 7 isn't the only reason Little won't return:

The Sox no longer want to discover, to their dismay, that the manager, according to a team source, failed to hold a hitters' meeting before the Oakland playoff series, wasting countless hours of traditional scouting work and sophisticated video and statistical analysis that was done ostensibly to give the Sox an edge.

...The Sox, who as of last night had not contacted or asked permission to interview any candidate, plan to go beyond the traditional, just-show-up-in-a-coat-and-tie-and-answer-our-questions evaluation process. They will want hard answers, using specific situations, perhaps even using video, on how a manager handles the game within the game. No more guesswork on whether the manager will know that he should bring in Alan Embree to face Jim Thome, not only because the stats are weighted in Embree's favor (0 for 7, 5 whiffs) but because Embree's strengths are best suited to exploit the weaknesses in Thome's swing.

It was not Little's managerial style to meticulously anticipate every game situation that might arise, and, armed with the best possible information -- some statistics-oriented, some not -- react to those situations in a manner that would satisfy an owner as mathematical in his world view as a John W. Henry. That is why the Sox are not being dishonest in their insistence that Little was not being cashiered because of what happened in Game 7 of the ALCS. They had reservations that extended back to his first season on the job, which is why they did not exercise his contract option this spring, according to one of the team sources.

The Sox are looking for the ideal manager to fit their sabermetric-run organization, and that's fair enough. Edward Cossette for one, trusts in Theo (Edward hits the nail on the head when he talks about the animosity that exists between the media and The Bill James Gang). Maybe the Sox won't skip a beat. Hell, they might even improve---though how much better can you do than 95 wins? But imagine the pressure the incoming skipper will feel. If he falls short of making the World Serious, the season will be deemed a failure. If not in the eyes of management--and the more sympathetic and patient fans like Cossette, and Ben Jacobs---than at least to the general public and the press. Jeez, who do the Sox think they are: The Yankees?

True to his word---and we know a man is only as good as his word---ol' Popeye Zimmer quit the Yankees immediately following their Game 6 loss. Zimmer and George Steinbrenner--old track buddies--have been in a spat all season. According to Popeye's ghost writer, Bill Madden:

Choking back tears, Zimmer said: "I woke up this morning and my wife was crying. She said: 'Don't make yourself a little man.'

"Usually she does the dishes and I do all the talking, but this time, I'll do the dishes. All I'm gonna say is for 25 years Steinbrenner called me 'Zimmer' and I called him 'Boss.' From now on as far as I'm concerned he's just 'Steinbrenner.'"

Zimmer's hairy spaz in Game Three of the ALCS is what King Leyritz called Popeye's "Woody Hayes" moment. I think that probably led to him finally walking away as much as all the garbage with George. But George made this an especially uncomfortable season for Zimmer, Stottlemyre, Rick Down and the rest of the Yankee coaches. Stott was measured in his response:

"Zim's an emotional guy," Stottlemyre said. "I was hoping that he would do the same thing I'm doing: go home, think about it and let his mind clear up. But he seems to be dead set on what he wants to do."

Zimmer is a one proud, stubborn man.

"The man obviously didn't want me here," said Zimmer. "That was very obvious throughout the winter and the summer. How much can you take?

"I can remember eight years ago, we were all together in the coaches' room, and one of the coaches said something about George, and Joe (Torre) said, 'Wait a minute here. Anybody here should know what they got into. It should be no surprise.' And Joe made a statement: 'If you're going to take his money, you've got to take his guff.'

"Now it's, where do you want to draw the line?" Zimmer said. "Some people here never draw the line. I've had enough. It's that simple."

Stottlemyre has been hurt by George's antics too:

"This has been my most stressful year out of the eight," said Stottlemyre, who was a member of Torre's first Yankees staff in 1996. "A lot of things have happened during the course of the season: the way we battled, some problems that we had early and off-field happenings.

"Normally you just kind of let them go by. But in my case, I feel personally abused because of some things that happened during the course of the season. It was a tough situation for me. I'm over it. But nevertheless, it was a tough year."

So while Rick Down waits for the axe to drop, Zimmer walks. Nuts to you George. Make no mistake, this was a premeditated act of spite on Zim's part: I'm going to show George up and go out like Yogi, on my own terms. Say what you want about Yogi, but Zimmer is in the running for Least Mature Man of the Millenium. He actually makes George look like the sane, rational one even though there's really not much difference between George and Zim in terms of emotional development at all: they are a both high-maintenance babies. The Daily News reports:

Zimmer, 72, said his relationship with Steinbrenner began to sour after the Yankees' division series loss to the Angels last season. He said that Steinbrenner came to believe several rumors about comments Zimmer supposedly made, like the leaking of the Yankees' interest in signing Jose Contreras. "I didn't even know who Contreras was," Zimmer said.

The rift snowballed. Zimmer said Steinbrenner didn't speak to him at the Florida racetracks they frequented. He said Steinbrenner took away his spring training rental car. He also cited constant scrutiny of the coaches, some of whose jobs may be in jeopardy.

"I think the whole year has been disappointing in that respect," Zimmer said. "Every time you pick up the newspaper, the coaches are getting fired."

But Zimmer wasn't satisfied with simply stepping away. He not's that big of a guy. Fighting below the belt, Zimmer's vowed never to return to Yankee Stadium again as long as George Steinbrenner owns the team. According to the Post:

Zimmer said he wouldn't come back to the Yankees, even if they had a day for him.

"I ain't coming back to work for Steinbrenner or be around him," Zimmer told reporters. "No. They could have a day for me and the answer would be no and only because of him."

Zim often changes his mind, but not this time, "Nobody talks me out of it," he promised. "When I make a decision, I've made it and I'll live with it."

Oy veh. As Kevin Kernan opines, this is like watching "Grumpy Old Men." The Reality TV show. Zim should just get over himself, because he's an adult like everybody else. But he doesn't get over himself--he's all schtick like Tommy Lasorda. You have to take him as he is and either love the lunkhead or disgard him as an ignorant old putz and be done with it.

Zim probably figures the best way he can get back at George is by out-living him. Then he can go back to the Stadium like Yogi. Now that would really piss George off, huh Zim?

END OF THE LINE

Josh Beckett pitched a complete game shutout and the Marlins beat the Yankees 2-0 before an energetic crowd at Yankee Stadium to become World Champs. Andy Pettitte pitched a good game as well, but the Bombers made several mistakes in the field which again, proved costly. As good as Beckett was---and there is no two ways about it, he was brilliant---the Yankees inability to hit in the clutch sealed their fate.
According to Buster Olney:

The Yankees went 0-for-12 with runners on base, sabotaged by their offense, as they had been throughout the World Series, and now New York faces an uncertain future with many changes imminent: volatile owner George Steinbrenner is bound to make extensive alterations to a franchise that is just starting to list, because of advancing age and increasingly impulsive personnel decisions.

The game was scoreless in the fifth when the Marlins connected with back-to-back, two-out singles. Pettitte then struggled to put away Luis Castillo; with two strikes Castillo eventually slapped an outside breaking ball to right for a base hit. Karim Garcia fielded the ball and made a strong throw home, but Jorge Posada was out of position, and Alex Gonzalez made a nifty play to avoid the tag and Florida had a 1-0 lead. (The throw was slightly up the line, but if Posada had been behind the plate, he would have had a great chance to record the out.) Pettitte intentionally walked Pudge Rodriguez and then came back to whiff Miguel Cabrera with the bases loaded to get out of the inning.

The Stadium crowd was as loud as I can remember it being in the bottom of the third inning when the Yankees had runners on first and second with just one out. (Until late in the game, the crowd did its best to pump the team up.) Bernie Williams worked Beckett deep into the count, but then hit into a double play to end the frame. Derek Jeter struck out with a runner on second base to end the fifth, and then made an error to start the sixth on a ground ball off the bat of Jeff Conine. (Jeter was 0-4 proving that even "Mr. Clutch" himself---if you believe in such a thing---is human.)

Pettitte then walked Mike Lowell and Derrek Lee came on to sacrifice the runners over. He bunted the ball directly to Pettitte who inexplicably went to second base to get the first out. Soriano could not complete the double play. Apparently Posada was yelling for him to go to third, but Pettitte didn't hear him. With runners on the corner, and just one out, Juan Encarnacion's soft fly ball to right was deep enough to score the Marlins second run.

That was all they would need, as Josh Beckett stymied the Yankee hitters with an array of change ups, sharp breaking balls, and blazing fastballs.

While there is plenty of blame to go around for the Yankees, credit the Marlins: they played better than the Bombers, Cubbies and Giants and deserve to be the Champs. William Rhoden notes:

The talk in New York will quickly shift from the Yankees' suffocating defeat to who gets the blame for losing a World Series.

The question seems ridiculous, unless you're in the Yankees' universe, where success and failure are determined by championships. There will be finger-pointing and talk of trades and shakeups, but please: let today be a day of introspection and humility.

As dejected as I felt after the game, I wasn't furious. (Larry Mahnken got it right when he writes that he feels frustration more than anything else.) It didn't sting watching the Marlins celebrate as it had when the Yanks lost to Arizona a few years back, or even when the Angels beat them last year. The Yankees simply didn't play well enough win, even though they could have won each game they lost in this Serious. If you've followed them all year, there was nothing shocking about the way in which they lost. Yup, poor fielding and poor hitting overwhelmed their good pitching. But as David Pinto notes, it wasn't exactly like the Marlins were great offensively either:

The Yankees offense isn't perfect like in was in 1998, but I'd much rather have the Yankees lineup than the Marlins lineup. The Marlins won because they were able to take advantage of local weakness in the Yankee lineup (the bottom of the order), injuries (Giambi) and slumps (Soriano). They also got lucky with the one bad managerial move Torre made in the series, leaving Jeff Weaver on the mound in game 4.

And it wasn't exactly like the Marlins were wizards with men in scoring position. They hit .233 as a team in the series, which while better than the Yankees, it did not result in any more runs, as both teams had 14 RBI with their limited success in that situation.

There was nothing special about Scott Brosius or Jim Leyritz or Tino Martinez. They were decent players on a great team, and they all got lucky, just like Alex Gonzalez got lucky in this series. And sometimes, that's all you need to win a championship.

What hurts is that the Yankees were so close to another title. Who knows when they'll ever get so close again? But hell, the Cubs haven't been back to Serious since 1945, so all considering it could be far worse. I feel more resigned and wistful than enraged or bitter. Had the Yankees played better and then lost, that would have been something different. But they didn't deserve to win, so what can you do but shrug your shoulders, and appreciate what the Marlins have accomplished? Joe Sheehan opines:

The Marlins did a lot of things right in the World Series. They finally got the good starting pitching that, Beckett aside, had eluded them on the way there. They didn't beat themselves in the field; other than Brad Penny's misplay of a bunt in Game Five, I'm hard-pressed to remember any Marlins' fielding miscues. The Yankees seemed to have one a game, from blown rundowns to bobbles--Derek Jeter's sixth-inning error last night led to a critical insurance run--to plays that their fielders, with their limited range, just couldn't make.

The Marlins did what they had to do to win. The Yankees didn't. Flags fly forever.

The end of the World Series caps what was an amazing stretch of baseball. I'll let historians pass the final judgment, but for me and the postseasons I've experienced, this series ranks right there with 1991 and 1986 for quality of play, for drama, and for sheer enjoyment.

Still, this was another great year for the Yankees, in spite of all the mishigoss that enveloped them. And it was a sweet ride for us fans as well. When the pain of losing the Serious slips away over the next few days, or the next week, we will have some wonderful memories of the 2003 season, most significantly beating the Red Sox in Game 7 of the ALCS.

For now, there is some emptiness, and that's OK. There are sure to be changes, both good and bad this off season. Quite frankly, I think I'm less upset that the Yankees lost than I am about the fact that baseball has finally ended and there won't be another game today. It is unseasonably warm and muggy in New York: feels like there should be another game to play.

The New York Times is reporting that Jason Giambi will have surgery on his left knee at the conclusion of the season (tell us something we don't know):

A magnetic resonance imaging test yesterday revealed an inflamed tendon in Giambi's left knee, as well as chronic patella tendinitis.

... "Jason has been dealing with the knee throughout the year," General Manager Brian Cashman said. "Most of the way through, we tried to just tough it out and keep it as quiet as possible. But then it got to the point where it was becoming a problem."

Maybe Giambi's not such a coward after all. He'll be in the line up tonight as the D.H.

When the Yankees were in Miami this week, it was difficult for pitcher Jose Contreras not to dwell on missing his family. Johnette Howard had a nice piece on the pitcher's lonliness in Newsday a few days ago:

When he stands on the beach here in South Florida and looks toward the horizon, Contreras says, he thinks how the family he left behind is out there somewhere, barely more than 100 miles away.

"Sometimes I just stand on the beach and look at the water," Contreras says, "and Cuba feels so close, it's unbelievable. Sometimes I have a dream that I'm back together with everyone. Then I wake up and I'm still in bed by myself."

I can't imagine what that must be like, but it sure helps to put the winning and losing of baseball games into some perspective.

David Pinto thinks that the Marlins could be making a big mistake starting Josh Beckett on three-day's rest for Game 6 tonight:

...If the Marlins were losing 3-2, pitching Beckett in game 6 would be the right thing to do. But up a game, where they can afford to lose game 6, I think it's a mistake.

Andy Pettitte wasn't sharp in Game 6 of the ALCS, and he got hammered in Arizona in Game 6 of the 2001 Serious (I like to remember that day as "The Day Andy Lost the Lord"). Can he reverse that trend tonight? If the Yankees' season is to continue, he had better.

Seth Stohs has an interesting article that evaluates which players are the best value in the majors. Take a look.

THINGS FALL APART

It all started so well. Derek Jeter led off the game with a single to right, and then Enrique Wilson--starting in place of the slumping, not to mention wistful Alfonso Soriano--sacrificed him to second. Brad Penny botched Wilson's bunt, Derrek Lee threw the ball away and the Yankees had runners on the corners with nobody out. Bernie Williams' sacrifice fly scored Jeter, and the Yanks were up 1-0. But Brad Penny worked out of the inning without any further damage.

In the bottom of the first, David Wells got three ground balls--Derek Jeter and Nick Johnson made a nifty play to retire Luis Castillo--and three quick outs. But that would be all for Boomer. His creaky back could not hold up and as the Yankees were hitting in the top of the second, Jose Contreras was warming up. Some way to end his Yankee career. Oy veh.

At that point, every Yankee fan must have been hold their breath. Contreras, who had thrown two innings of relief the night before, retired the first two hitters he faced. But he then walked two, and gave up an RBI double to the number 8 hitter, and a 2 RBI single to the pitcher. The pitcher. Let the cursing begin. Both pitches were tits-high fastballs. After Penny's single I thought I was going to damage something in my apartment for the first time in a long while.

A couple of innings later Contreras left another fastball up in the zone to Juan Pierre and the Marlins increased their lead to 4-1. Chris Hammonds would replace the soporific Cuban, and two unearned runs scored on his watch, no thanks to a throwing error by Enrique Wilson (on a rundown of all things). Mike Lowell's bloop single to center scored two as Florida padded its lead to 6-1. Mistakes cost the Yankees once again.

Brad Penny was bullish, pounding the Yankees with the gas, and mixing in a decent breaking pitch. He allowed a run in the seventh, but got out of a major jam when Bernie Williams flew out to right with the bases loaded to end the inning. Once again, the Yankees simply did not hit with runners in scoring position. According to one major league player who attended the game:

"This is definitely the worst situational-hitting team they've had (under Torre)," the player said. "They've struggled before. They didn't hit much in 2001 (postseason), but it was a different kind of thing.

"This team gets guys on base, but they don't make productive outs, and they don't get enough clutch hits. They've got too many guys who strike out and too many who don't make adjustments in RBI situations just to make sure they put the ball in play."

Larry Mahnken adds:

If you're going to focus on one reason the Yankees are one game away from losing the World Series to a vastly inferior team, look at the offense. They've failed to come through with clutch hits time and again this series, failed to score nearly as many runs as they reasonably should have expected to. There's been bad defense, and some poor managerial decisions, but if the Yankees were hitting anywhere near as well as they should be, it wouldn't matter. This isn't the case of dominant Florida starting pitching completely shutting down the Yankees' hitters, as you could say was the case in 2001 against the Diamondbacks. No, the Yankees have actually hit well in this series, but they haven't gotten the big hit in the many, many scoring opportunities they had. If the Yankees were playing well, they would have swept this series. If they were playing just okay...they probably still would have swept this series. Instead, they're playing terribly, and so are now one game away from losing to the Marlins.

Dontrelle Willis pitched the eighth, setting the stage for Josh Beckett to pitch Game 6 on three days rest in New York on Saturday night (although David Pinto doesn't think that would be the best idea). In the ninth, Jason Giambi pinch-hit for the pitcher. Giambi was a late-scratch due to his aching-knee--Nick Johnson went 2-4 in his place---but he came through with a solo home run off of Braden Looper. Derek Jeter, who had three hits on the night, followed with a single and then Enrique Wilson's double down the right field line closed the gap to 6-4.

Ugie Urbina was now pitching, and Bernie Williams flew out to the warning track in right. As the ball was in the air, I thought for a second that the game was tied. Williams knocked it but good, deep to right, but in Pro Player Stadium it was nothing but a long out. Ooohhh. Hideki Matsui ended the game with a smash that Derrek Lee deftly picked. The long first baseman then beat Godzilla to the bag for the final out.

In all, it was a deflating and humbling night for the Bronx Bombers. With their backs against the wall, Andy Pettitte needs to come through with another huge outing if the Yanks are to force a Game 7. Of course, the Marlins are now one win away from a title.

Some New York writers--John Harper, Mike Lupica, and Joel Sherman--are questioning the character of Jason Giambi this morning. If he were a true Yankee, they say, he would have played through the pain last night, regardless if he would have been a defensive liability. For the kind of money he makes, he had to play last night. For that kind of money, he needs to be Paul O'Neill and then some. He should not make reporters wait for 45 minutes to come out of the trainer's room to speak with them. Call me a Giambi apologist---and I am--but I think this is terribly unfair. The guy has played hurt all year, and now he's a bum? If he plays last night and makes a couple of errors, how sympathetic would the press be then?

Ah, there is nothing like kicking somebody when they are down. But the Yankees are not out, and hopefully, they will still provide us with some thrills. Sure, the Yankees were expected to beat the Marlins, and yeah, they might even be the better team. But the Yankees have been correctly criticized for some glaring flaws all season long, and it is those weakness' that have hurt them in the World Serious.

* * * *

Many of the posts that I write here at Bronx Banter are comprised of other writers' material. I love to not only link articles, but to 'sample' relevant excerpts too. Sometimes I get over-zealous, as I believe I did yesterday with Joe Sheehan's analysis of Aaron Boone's Game 4 performance. I just wanted to apologize to Joe if he thinks I went too far. I felt a little funny when I posted the bit, but in my defense, I would only make sure an error because I thought the material was insightful, and because without a subscription to Baseball Prospectus, many readers would have missed it. But again, I was out of line, and I am sorry.

Here is what Joe Sheehan of Baseball Prospectus has to say about Aaron Boone:

Dear Aaron Boone: It was a home run, not diplomatic immunity.

Love, Joe

Boone, whose Game Seven home run won the ALCS and sent the Yankees to the World Series, has been swinging at pitches he has no hope of hitting ever
since then.

I looked it up, expecting to see that Boone has taken about four pitches in the World Series. It turns out that he'd actually let 25 baseballs go by in the first three games, just shy of half of the 51 pitches he'd seen. He's pushed counts to 3-2 in a number of at-bats, so it's hard to make the argument that he's not being patient enough.

That said, he was horrific last night. The Yankees' three biggest chances to win the game landed in his lap, and he approached his at-bats as if it were fifth-grade gym class or a co-ed softball league with some goofy rules like "swing or you're out." Against Carl Pavano in the second inning, with the bases loaded, one out and the Yankees down 3-0, Boone swung at the
only two pitches he saw and flied to center field on the second one. Sacrifice flies down three runs with the pitcher coming up aren't team baseball, they're a lifeline for the opposition.

Boone got another chance in the ninth, after Ruben Sierra's triple tied the game. Boone again went up hacking, fouling off the first and third pitches he saw to fall behind 1-2, then grounding out weakly to shortstop after two more
foul balls.

Finally, in the 11th inning, Boone again batted with the bases loaded and one out. And just as he had against Pavano and Ugueth Urbina, he made Braden Looper's job easy by hacking at fastballs up and in, pitches he doesn't have the bat speed to hit. Boone swung at six of the seven pitches he saw, looked completely overmatched, and struck out.

Three at-bats, two pitches taken out of 15 seen, three times falling behind in the count, three outs. Boone needed to have a solid approach last night, and his mental effort was completely lacking, leading to wild swings that gave the pitchers all the leverage they needed to get out of jail.

The truth hurts.

Rob Neyer's latest addresses several issues from last night's game, almost all of them thought-provoking and relevant. Here is a sampling:

Not Excusable: Joe Torre's willingness to let a World Series game end with his best relief pitcher having never left the bullpen.

Every year, some nitwit manager does this, and every year it makes me crazy. Yes, we all know that Torre was holding Mariano Rivera until the Yankees got a lead. Except the Yankees never got a lead. And they never got a lead, in part, because Torre was holding Rivera until the Yankees got a lead.

Derek Jeter is often regarded as the Yankees new "Mr. October," their most "clutch" performer. But Neyer notes that Bernie Williams is practically his equal in this regard, and that the true Captain Clutch is Mariano Rivera.

Is there an ability to pitch better in clutch situations? If anybody's checked, I haven't seen the findings. What I do know is that while both Jeter and Williams have played well in the postseason, they've done little more than they're supposed to do. Rivera, meanwhile, has put himself in the Hall of Fame.

And finally:

C'mon, admit it ... You thought, just like I did, that once the Yankees tied the game in the ninth, why of course they would eventually win. And when they loaded the bases with only one out in the 11th, then of course they would not only take the lead, but blow the game wide open.

But they didn't do either of those things. Yes, the Yankees are better than the Marlins, but they're not that much better. In the end, it's just one game between two teams not so far apart. And anybody can win a game like that.

What struck me, though, was that if the Yankees had pushed across a couple of runs in the 11th, we'd have heard about their resiliency and perhaps even their awesome mystique, which not only allows them to shine but also intimidates their opponents. But instead the Marlins won, which means that for at least 20 hours we'll hear instead about their resiliency, and their youthful ignorance of that dreaded Yankee mystique.

And of course, none of it means anything. It's just something to say, in lieu of anything interesting.

Even-handed analysts like Neyer and Joe Sheehan of Baseball Prospectus actually study baseball in an empirical fashion, while also appreciating the stories, drama and emotions that the game has to offer. They simply don't let a good story obscure the facts. Not only that, but they also have terrific bullshit detectors, and don't suffer fools lightly. Since the mainstream media coverage of baseball tends to get thick and deep, writers like Neyer and Sheehan are never at a loss for something interesting to write about. That they usually do it with clarity and precision--not to mention humor--makes their contributions essential and lasting.

Tom Boswell has an appreciation of the final game of Roger Clemens' great career.

While getting on Jeff Weaver---or Joe Torre for letting Jeff Weaver pitch--may be in the front of every frustrated Yankee fan's mind today, the poor play of Aaron Boone and Alfonso Soriano can't be far behind. In his latest column--which features a nice tribute to Orlando Cepeda--Bruce Markusen defends Boone (not to mention Grady Little). The column was written prior to last night's game, so his thoughts are dated, but Markusen's work is always worth checking out.

David Pinto isn't so forgiving of Boone's careless approach to hitting. However, watching Boone fail miserably in extra innings last night has given Pinto a better appreciation of Godzilla Matsui's talents:

Boone was just the opposite [of Godzilla] at the plate in the 11th. The Yankees had the bases loaded, 1 out and the Marlins brought the infield in. Matsui (and most great hitters) in this situation would wait for a pitch that he could handle. The pitcher can't afford to throw balls in this situation, since a walk gives the opposition the lead. Unless the first pitch is the phattest you've ever seen, you should take it. Give the pitcher a chance to put himself in the hole so you can force him into the strikezone. Boone swung at the first pitch and missed. Now Boone's in the hole. He swings at the 2nd pitch and fouls it off. Now he's really in the hole, and has to swing defensively.

And, I might remind, that these were full-force spin-me-around grand-slam swings. He wasn't just trying to meet the ball, he was trying to kill it. The infield was in! If he just meets the ball the likelihood is that the Yankees are going to score.

In the end, Boone saw seven pitches and swung at six of them, missing the last one. He did not adjust to the initial situation. He did not adjust during the AB. He did everything wrong. I was waiting for Willie Randolph to run down from the third base coaching box and yell at him to choke up on the bat. Matsui or Jeter or Posada or (choose your favorite Yankee other than Soriano) would have approached that situation differently. I can't say that the outcome would have been different, but I can the chance of a better outcome would have been a lot higher. I hope Aaron's been properly scolded about that event.

I have to agree with Pinto. I think Boone's at bat was far more upsetting than the dinger Weaver allowed. Today, Aaron Boone and Alfonso Soriano's names are mud. But there is always tonight...

BEWEAVE IT OR NOT

In the final start of his Hall of Fame career, Roger Clemens allowed three runs in the first inning last night, and Florida made it hold up until the ninth, when Ugie Urbina coughed up a 3-1 lead to send the game into extra innings. Ruben Sierra had the key knock, smashing a two-out, two run triple which scored Bernie Williams (who continues to sizzle at the plate with four hits) and Dave Dellucci.

Aaron "All-or-Nothing" Boone had a golden opportunity to put the Yankees ahead in the 11th with the bases loaded, one out and the infield drawn in. But in one of the worst at bats in what is a continuing series of awful at bats, Aaron Boo