Showing posts sorted by relevance for query doris. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query doris. Sort by date Show all posts

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Doris Follow-Up [Non-Sports]

[Here is part I in case you missed it]

It was a beautiful snowy day here in the city, and when I got home, I immediately checked to see if there had been recent activity on the terrace. I didn't see anything at first, then just barely caught a glimpse of the corner of our sign sticking out from the edge of the deck, under about two inches of fresh powder. I walked out, picked it up and saw that it had been ripped in half. Fair enough. But, if the snow melts and the pumpkin is back on our side, we've got problems.

She also tied a plastic bag with a letter inside to the a hook on our chimney. Here it goes.

The Envelope:"To: The guys who are no longer with their parents - or - at the Frat house. But Hey, guess what - In The Real World - with - Surprise of Surprises - OTHER RE(down arrow)AL PEOPLE!!!"

This took me a good 10 minutes to decode. Her lower case "t" looks like an "e" with a line above it which I thought was an accent or a tilde or something. (See the word "at" on the fourth line down, first in from the left). I was thinking to myself, "What the fuck is a froe house"?

Just a tip, when you're literally writing out an attempt at making fun of someone, you don't want to awkwardly try to insert another word into your punchline. You either leave it as is or get a new envelope.

Yes, we no longer live with our parents. Is that supposed to be an insult? Nice try, but neither of us ever lived in a frat house. "The Real World", huh? That's pretty rich coming from a fucking agoraphobic. Your "Real World" consists of 800 square feet. And of course, that last "sentence" contains four dashes and zero coherent thoughts.

And now the letter. You'd think by the envelope that it would be in pen in cursive or something. Not so much:
Front Side:
"TO: THE ANGRY GUY AT 115 w.74 - (NOT THE NICE SIDE-KICK)"

You love the dash, don't you Doris? I wonder who she thinks is the "side-kick"... Check out the comments on the last post, Doris, neither of us are nice. We are angry because you smashed our pumpkin on our terrace for no fucking reason.

"I DID NOT TOUCH YOUR BOXES"

Yes. Yes you did. You put some old grayed-out boards on there and moved our "Golf Carts" sign just this past week. You put a strange bamboo arch in there at some point over the summer and planted other odd looking plants without asking us.

There is no other explanation as to how that pumpkin ended up on our side. It did not commit suicide by jumping from the planter. The cat that stops by occasionally didn't roll it over the edge. Several pigeons did not combine forces and drop it there.

Perhaps there were some other hooligans on your roof who did it. But you blamed us for everything that happened on your terrace, period. Not sure if you've peered out through that giant pile of plastic bags you have in your apartment recently, but we aren't your only neighbors.

"WE AWOKE THE OTHER DAY AFTER SUPER BOWL SUNDAY..."

Being that today is Tuesday, I'm guessing you are referring to yesterday?

"...TO FIND A PUMPKIN SMASHED AGAINST OUR BUILDING W/SUCH FORCE IT WAS ALL OVER THE WALLS + ROOF!! WE THOUGHT YOU OR A DRUNKEN FRIEND DID IT SO WE RETURNED THE FAVOR + NOTIFIED THE POLICE + TOOK PIX -->"

/Shakes in shoes.

Not all that scary, considering you just confessed to "RETURN[ing] THE FAVOR" in the same fucking sentence.

We took pictures too, except we didn't show them to the police. We posted them on a semi-vulgarly named sports blog and told a bunch of people on the intertubes about how crazy you are.

Back Side:
"YOU HAVE HAD A PROBLEM STAYING WITHIN YOUR BOUNDS IN THE PAST. -"

Sweet, a stray dash!

What she is referring to here is that fact that our neighbors who have two dachshunds were over here literally two and a half years ago and despite our best efforts the pups occasionally ventured onto her side of the terrace, maybe three times.

"YOU ALSO - OR ONE OF YOU AT LEAST - HAS A REAL ANGER CONTROL/SENSE OF ENTITLEMENT PROBLEM"

Angry because we wrote a sign with the F-word or have you been reading the blog? Entitlement because we don't think people should smash a rotting member of the squash family on our terrace? You want to try that one again?

"YOU ALSO - OR ONE OF YOU AT LEAST - HAS A REAL DRINKING PROBLEM"

There you go.

"- YOU'RE NEVER TOO YOUNG TO BEGIN SHAPING UP AND BEHAVING LIKE A MAN!! (MEN)"

Stray dash, volume 2. Thanks for the advice, Grandma. "NEVER TOO YOUNG". Going all Benjamin Button on us, I see.

"YOUR NEIGHBOR -
@117
DORIS "THE MAD WOMAN"


You said it.

As you may or may not be able to see, there were two different markers and even a pen used in this masterpiece. It contains sixteen dashes.


I just wish it wasn't snowing so I could hang up the new sign...
(sorry for the partial joke recycling)

"Doris -
You never touched our boxes? Who put those old boards across them last week? Fairies? What about the bamboo arch? Pigeons? The pumpkin was sitting in the box on Saturday, and on Sunday, it was smashed on our terrace. Were we supposed to assume the black cat did it? You are the one who used to sweep up every single thing on your shitty tar-pit and fling it all on our side. The difference is that when you did it, we laughed it off, and when we did, you called the cops."

As you can see, there is still enough room for about two lines. In 12 words or less, what should I close with? Leave your best shot in the comments, and your zinger just might meet Doris' crazy eyes tomorrow night.
[Update 2/5: Part III of this saga has now been written]

Monday, February 2, 2009

Welcome To The Internets, Doris [Non-Sports]

Everyone has had a crazy neighbor. We knew she was a little strange when we first spotted the yellowed newspapers she had stuffed in the top corner of one of her (broken) windows visible from our apartment. Occasionally she would blast classical music out of her AM/FM-Radio/Tape Deck combo right on the window sill, which you could hear even if both of our windows were closed.

When my buddy Sampson and I were looking for a place down here, we wanted outside space. Non-negotiable. It is an incredibly valuable commodity in Manhattan and it allows us to grill year round, which is obviously essential. We pay through the nose for it, but it's honestly worth it, especially during the summer.

When we first moved in, it was July and the terrace was a death trap of silver tar. On the hottest days, you could leave footprints just by walking on it, and the railings oozed black tar that ruined more than a few articles of clothing.

Neither of us had a "job" at that point, so we spent about three days and three trips to the Home Depot in Secaucus transforming a worthless space into the selling point of our apartment.

We didn't go in blind. My Dad used to wake me up at 7:00AM on weekends when I was 8 years old to help him with carpentry projects around our house. Sampson and I both worked for my cousin in Lake George over summer breaks in high school building custom lake houses in Cleverdale.

Sampson came up with the design, and I took care of most of the logistics. We carried every board, nail, bucket of stain, and FastenMaster Screw up six flights of stairs and I don't regret a second of it.

The fact that we had people over somewhat frequently didn't sit well with most of our neighbors. The people who lived here before us were apparently never around, which was a stark contrast to two 22 year olds with no jobs and a propensity for late nights and generous pours of Johnny Walker Red.

Doris' terrace borders on ours, not shown to the left in that picture.

The first run-in we had with her was when she called the fire department on us and had them confiscate our propane tank. Common sense would dictate that like a mother bear and her cub, you don't come between a man and his grill. We still don't know what exactly precipitated this most despicable act, but despite our initial outrage, we never said anything to her or retaliated in any way. We just bought a charcoal grill and used the extra 15 minutes it took to sear a couple of sirloins to drink another beer.

Doris used to just assume that everything that ended up on her terrace was a direct result of us, so she would sweep it up and throw it over on our side. It could have been a dead pigeon and she probably still would have tossed it over. Newsflash: There are numerous explanations for why something ends up on your terrace. We don't just throw shit over there for fun.

She also thought it would be a good idea to create a barrier between our spaces using an upside down ceramic planter, a wicker basket and some lattice, all strung together with twine. One day, I actually saw her during the daylight, and sarcastically complimented her on her work. She went "Oh, I just work with what I have, like Caldas, down in Brazil there". Riiiiiiight.

We actually have had some decent conversations with her, but her weird side inevitably came out. One night, Sampson passed out on the terrace and woke up to her throwing bird seed on him at 4:00AM.

We eventually built some spruce boxes where her odd "artwork" used to be, and planted some Aborvitaes for noise cancellation and privacy purposes. Doris was thrilled that we did it and we even planted some flowers on her side.

We had a truce for quite some time... until this weekend.

Earlier in the Fall, we nabbed a pumpkin on a golf trip to Jersey. It sat on our picnic table until it collapsed in on itself in late December. We threw it in one of the boxes to compost and it lay decaying peacefully there, ready to fertilize our Myrtle.

On Sunday, we went out to grill some chicken skewers for the Super Bowl and the rotting pumpkin was smashed on our AstroTurf. We had some ladies over at the time, so we laughed it off, and gave them the background on how crazy she was.

That lasted for about .10 of BAC. Around midnight we went back upstairs and took the remnants of the pumpkin and threw it all back on her side.

Why? Cause fuck her, that's why. There was no reason at all for her to take OUR pumpkin from OUR box and throw that shit on OUR terrace.

Well, today, I got home from work and decided to survey the terrace situation. She returned every chunk and every seed of the pumpkin back on our side. HA. Fuuuuuck that.

I had some leftover posterboard from the "Look At It, Dave" experiment, and decided it was a good time to use it. I made the following sign and Zip Tied it to one of the haphazardly arranged Time Warner cables on her side of the terrace, above the pile of pumpkin remains I threw back on her side.

[It reads:]

HEY DORIS!
ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?

I think we already know the answer to that question... There is absolutely no reason for you to throw a composting pumpkin onto our terrace, which explains why we threw it back. You really shouldn't be touching the boxes we built or anything in them. We haven't bothered you for a long time, so...

STAY OUT OF OUR SHIT!

Cordially,
The 115 guys

Sunday, February 8, 2009

"Let's Call It Even" [Creep Of The Week]

It was a close call between Doris and the asshat who decided to disallow bringing your own alcohol to the Preakness, but I think the biggest creep ultimately won.

Since it was 55 degrees out, John and I spent the day kicking it on the terrace drinking some Leffe, Southampton Abbot 12 and jamming out to Songlines.

As expected, when Doris threw our original sign back, she included the remnants of the pumpkin in the delivery.


Since we hadn't heard anything back since out last communication, and the pumpkin was still strewn across the terrace, we decided to reach across the aisle.

Well, sort of...

It reads:
[DORIS -

Let's call it even. You haven't offered an alternative explanation as to how our pumpkin was executed, so we must assume you did the deed. If you throw this bag out (or use it in one of your famous pumpkin, pigeon feather and dead cat pies) we'll forget this ever happened.
With love, 115 <3]

However, we also added some additional favors to our return package:

I wonder if it is still where we left it...


BTW: If you have an Aunt who is a former caterer who makes a mean corn relish, and a friend to isn't afraid to murder innocent animals, I highly recommend a venison sausage, corn relish and mustard sandwich.

And for good measure, here is a plug for North Coast Brewery which makes and Old Stock Ale (11.7% ABV), Blue Star (the best session beer possible) and a beautiful Belgian-stlye brew, Brother Thelonious:

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Doris, Part III [Non-Sports]

[Here are parts I and II, in case you missed them]

Thanks to everyone who participated in the Delusional Doris Sign Sweepstakes earlier today! Mostly due to the length of the entries, there was no winner from the comment section. However, I did draw some inspiration from them and made two additions to our sign.

The top line now reads: "Did you write that letter w/your teeth?" (h/t: FY contributor Matt)

And the last two sentences read: "The difference is that when you did it, we laughed it off, and when we did, you called the cops. (and the new one) I bet they had a nice laugh when you hung up.
<3 115 xoxo"

I go to put it up, and to my horror, her door is open.


She wasn't outside, but just when you thought this woman couldn't be any creepier, she props her door open with a garbage can lid and a splintering 2x4. I don't know how that doorway connects to her apartment, but I can only assume the staircase is lined with with old newspapers, bird feathers she has collected from the roof, pre-1963 Playbills, and dead cats.

It's really awkward to ZipTie the signs on her side, from ours. I have to lean over the planter (which is right next to the railing) and around the chimney with both hands free to connect the tie. It makes it a whole lot more difficult when you have to keep an eye on that open door to make sure your crazy neighbor doesn't come flying out on her broomstick, causing you to lose your footing and fall 6 floors to your death.

If you look closely, you can see the two ties from the last sign, cinched much tighter than when I put them up. I can only assume that she had never seen a ZipTie before, and tried to remove them by yanking on the long end, only antagonizing her further.

This has been fun, but I really didn't think last night's post was going to be the 5th most popular post in the (somewhat brief) history of this blog. I'm not sure what that says about our sports commentary or more importantly, you sick puppies, but thanks for stopping by.

Whether she responds to this sign or not, rest assured there will be another Doris post at some point.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Doris Sighting!!!!!!!

Yup. That's her. Swear on my life. I obviously couldn't get a pic of her face because that would put me in her peripheral vision and that was a confrontation I was not at all interested in. That, and also I drew the line (for once). If I'm not going to put my face on this blog, I really shouldn't put hers, I don't think.

I really didn't know how this day could get any better. There are some things in the works that I don't want to mention for non-jinxing purposes, and the snow, and the shrimp fritters, and my new headphones...

I actually went back to Whole Foods to pick up some more those fritters, along with a sirloin for the grill tonight. I asked the guy at the meat counter for a steak that was about a pound and three quarters. He put it on the scale: 1.75lbs. Bang. I mean, who cares? But that was pretty cool.

That beer is the Dogfish Head Olde School Barleywine. It's 15% ABV.

I needed to stop by Pioneer on my way back to grab some more brews and walking in, I spotted the mythical beast known to you Fackers only as "Doris". I very nearly soiled myself.

I didn't observe her eating habits like Sampson did, but this is kind of similar as she was in hunter/gatherer mode. It's not everyday she leaves the apartment. Actually, this may have been the first time in 46 years.

We left Pioneer at about the same time, and I skittered back over the icy sidewalks, hid out in my entrance way and nabbed this shot.

Look familiar? It's blurry and everything, just like the original! There was a girl right there walking her dog who saw me do it and gave me this look. I shrugged my shoulders and went "It's a long story..." and scampered upstairs to write this post.

This was one of the best snow days ever.

Sean Daley from Atmosphere, would you do the honors?



-----

We should be back in sports mode tomorrow. Hopefully you enjoy the non-sports stuff too, because it's really fun to write. I don't really know where to even send these links, but if you read other blogs with similar content like Schiff's, feel free to point me in their direction or vice versa.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

1,001

I hope you folks don't mind a little self-congratulatory navel-gazing, but I wanted to take a quick moment to acknowledge the fact that the post on Johnny Damon that went up earlier today was the 1,000th to appear on this site.

The very first post came back in the beginning of last October when for some reason, I decided to reserve this domain name and write down a half baked argument for rooting for Red Sox over the Rays in the upcoming ALCS. I didn't bother telling anyone about the site, or writing anything else until over two and a half months later. On Christmas Day, on the heels of the acquisition of Mark Teixeira, I had some more thoughts ruminating and kicked up a 1,000 word post on the implications of the signing.

I followed that with an email entitled "The Fack Youk Manifesto" to a couple of my friends that said, in part:
I realize that there is like an 85% chance that this never really goes anywhere, then dies a slow death from neglect, but there's that 15% that we can carve out this little space for our thoughts, all contribute and make it interesting/entertaining enough for some other people to check it out. I talk enough sports with you guys and hear interesting stuff worthy of a blog post and it makes me think that we could put that stuff to use and concentrate it here.
It's taken a ridiculous amount of time and commitment to keep a steady stream of content flowing into the site, but I'm quite proud that we've established a readership and have a little niche that people seem to enjoy stopping by. We're getting close to 80,000 unique visitors since we started using Google Analytics and even if there is some double counting going on, that still seems like a lot.

Thanks specifically to people like Jason at IIATM,S, Joe at River Ave. Blues, Ross at New Stadium Insider, Craig at Shysterball, Peter Abraham, Tim at The Sports Hernia in addition to Deadspin, With Leather, Big League Stew, Awful Announcing, The Big Lead, BBTF, Jorge Says No!, and countless others who have linked to the site over the past 8 months. Without links from other blogs, it's basically impossible to develop a readership, so the recommendations are much appreciated.

Anyway, if you are new to the site, here are some of Fack Youk's greatest hits from days and months gone by in case you missed them:
Hopefully these 1,001 posts are only the tip of the iceberg. Stay tuned.

Friday, June 25, 2010

1955 World Series

Without a vested rooting interest, there's a natural tendency to want to see the underdog win, or at the very least, to want to see the perpetually downtrodden catch a break. It's why we want to see Charlie Brown finally boot one through the uprights, and why we want Wile E Coyote to finally acquire a properly functioning contraption from ACME Inc.

So aside from non-Yankee fans wanting to see the Yankees lose just by virtue of their being the Yankees, the Dodgers likely had a groundswell of support when they faced the Yankees in the World Series for the sixth time in fifteen years. Not just because they were oh for the first five, but there was a certain endearing character to those Dodgers teams.

While the Yankees and Giants were the "New York" teams, both originally based in Manhattan and both having benefited from early successes, Brooklyn was a more provincial club, named after their borough rather than their whole city. They played in intimate little Ebbets Field rather than the vast Polo Ground or expansive Yankee Stadium. Until the 1940s, their history was marked mainly with poor play and colorful managers like "Uncle Robbie" Wilbert Robinson (who managed the franchise that would become the Yankees during their final season in Baltimore) and a pre-genius Casey Stengel. They were "Dem Bums" or "The Boys of Summer", while rooting for the Yankees was like rooting for U.S. Steel. And despite Brooklyn's run of excellence since the early forties, and the future Hall of Famers populating their roster, the perception still existed that no matter how well they did they would never be in the Yankees class. It was always "wait 'til next year".

Either that or I've listened to Doris Kearns Goodwin wax poetic in Ken Burns' Baseball far too many times. Either way, even though it never pleases me to see the Yankees come out on the short end of things, there is a certain part of me that's happy to know that Brooklyn eventually got theirs - especially with the crimes that were about to be committed against their fanbase.

-1955-

In 1954, the Yankees went 103-51, their best record yet under Casey Stengel. They finished eight games out of first, as Cleveland won a then record 111 games. The Yankees would not get a shot at a sixth consecutive championship. Over in the senior circuit, the Dodgers posted their fourth consecutive season of at least 92 wins, but finished five games back of the Giants. With the Yankees and Dodgers out of it, the Giants ensured NYC was represented in the World Series for the sixth straight year, and their surprising sweep of the Indians gave the city its sixth consecutive champion.

Normalcy was restored in 1955, as both the Yankees and Dodgers ascended to the top of their leagues for third time in four seasons. Brooklyn outpaced Milwaukee by 13.5 games while the Yankees held off Cleveland by three games.

Just two years removed from their last meeting, the Dodgers had essentially the same club as in '52 and '53, with Don Newcombe finally back in a Brooklyn uniform rather than an Army uniform. The biggest change was in the dugout, where Walter Alston replaced Chuck Dressen after the '53 Series. For the Yankees, the core of Mantle, Berra, and Ford remained, as did many of the complimentary parts, but things were changing.

Phil Rizzuto, the last link to the first Yankee-Dodger Series in '41, had lost his grip on the starting shortstop job. Gone were rotation stalwarts Allie Reynolds and Vic Raschi, and their partner in crime Ed Lopat had been reduced to just 12 starts in his age 37 season. Veteran Tommy Byrne and youngsters Bob Turley and Don Larsen rounded out the Yankee rotation behind Ford and the bullpen was essentially entirely overhauled. With Billy Martin serving in the Army until September, Gil McDougald had shifted from third to second, with Andy Carey taking over the hot corner. Reliable left fielder Gene Woodling had been traded away, replaced primarily by Irv Noren. Joe Collins was still on the roster, but Johnny Mize had retired and Moose Skowron had inherited the majority of the time that the tandem used to have at first base. Perhaps most noticeably, after years of facing the Dodgers with Jackie Robinson, Roy Campanella, Newcombe, and Junior Gilliam, the Yankees finally had their first African-American player in Elston Howard.

As it had been in all but one of their previous meetings, Game One was at Yankee Stadium. Predictably, it was Ford against Newcombe. Perhaps less predictably, the game didn't prove to be the pitchers' duel one would expect with that match up. The Dodgers plated two in the second, on a Carl Furillo home run and a Don Zimmer RBI single. The Yankees responded in the bottom half. Elston Howard, playing in place of the injured Mantle, hit a two run homer in his first World Series at bat. The clubs traded single runs in the third to leave the game tied at three. Joe Collins led off the fourth with a homer to put the Yankees up a run, then added a two run shot two innings later to make it 6-3.

The Dodgers mounted a rally in the eighth. Furillo led off with a single. With one out, Robinson grounded to third, but an error by McDougald left runners on second and third. A sac fly from Zimmer scored Furillo and moved Robinson to third. With Frank Kellert at the plate, Robinson broke for home. In an extremely close play, home plate umpire Bill Summers ruled Robinson safe. Yogi Berra thought otherwise, and the perpetually affable backstop lost his head for one of the few times in his career. Fifty five years later Yogi still swears Robinson was out. It would be the final Brooklyn run on the afternoon. Bob Grim closed the Dodgers out in the ninth, giving the Yankees a 6-5 win and a one game lead.

Game Two pitted Tommy Byrne against Billy Loes. Byrne debuted with the Yankees in 1943, and after serving in the military, made four game cameos in both '46 and '47. He stuck for good the next year, spent the next three years as the Yankees' fourth starter, and started Game Three against Brooklyn in the '49 Series. Finally exasperated with his lack of control - back-to-back seasons of leading the League in walks and three straight in hit batsmen - the Yankees shipped Byrne to the Browns early in the '51 season. After stops with the White Sox, Senators, and in the Pacific Coast League, the Yankees reacquired Byrne as they chased Cleveland down the stretch in '54. Older and wiser, Byrne's second go-round in the Bronx was much smoother. He cut down on his walks and hit batsmen, and led the AL in winning percentage in '55. It was the best season of his career.

The Dodgers took a 1-0 lead against Byrne in the fourth, as Pee Wee Reese doubled and Duke Snider singled to start the inning. In the Yankee half, they would get the run back and then some. With two outs the bases empty, Berra singled and Collins walked. Howard and Billy Martin followed with consecutive singles, both of which scored a run. Pinch hitter Eddie Robinson got plunked, then Byrne ripped a single of his own, scoring two more. The Dodgers got one back in the fifth, but that was all the scoring for the day. The Yanks won 4-2, taking a two games to none lead. Byrne was characteristically wild, walking five and plunking another, but he gave up just five hits in going the distance.

With the Series shifting to Ebbets Field, Bob Turley got the start for the Yankees. Acquired from Baltimore in a seventeen player trade the previous off-season, Bullet Bob had just turned 25 and was the best non-Whitey Ford pitcher on the '55 Yankees. He didn't have it Game Three though, as the Dodgers got him for two in the first and two more before he could record the second out of the second inning. The Yankees responded with a pair of their own in the second. Mickey Mantle, making his first start of the Series, homered and Phil Rizzuto had an RBI single. But the Dodgers put up pairs of runs again in the fourth and seventh. Roy Campanella had a big day with a single, double, homer, and three RBI, and Johnny Podres tossed a complete game as the Dodgers took an 8-3 win to capture their first game of the Series.

Don Larsen and Carl Erskine faced off in Game Four. Erskine had been the Dodgers de facto ace while Newcombe was in the service; Larsen came to the Yankees in the same mega trade that brought Turley. Neither Game Four starter would fare much better than Turley had in Game Three. Erskine gave up three runs in as many innings, Larsen five in four plus. Reduced to a battle of the bullpens, Brooklyn was able to hold it together better than the Yanks, taking an 8-5 win an evening the Series at two games apiece.

It had been four full days since Game One, but neither Newcombe nor Ford took the ball in Game Five. Walter Alston tabbed rookie Roger Craig to start, while Stengel gave the ball to sophomore Bob Grim, who had spent most of the season pitching in relief and had closed out Game One behind Ford. The Dodgers jumped up 3-0 on home runs by Sandy Amoros and Snider. The Yankees scratched a run in the fourth on an RBI single from Billy Martin, but Snider took it back in the fifth with his second homer of the game. Bob Cerv and Berra hit leadoff homers in the seventh and eighth to cut it to 4-3, but Robinson singled in an insurance run in the eighth, and the Yankees went in order against Clem Labine in the ninth. The Dodgers took all three games in their home park to push the Yankees to the brink.

Back at Yankee Stadium for Game Six, the home team was in an unfamiliar position, but not an unprecedented one. Three years earlier, the Yankees entered Game Six down 3-2, before winning the last two on the road to take the Series. They had to do it again, and this time they'd get to attempt it at home.

Ford returned to the bump for Game Six, but Alston went with fireballing lefty Karl Spooner rather than Newcombe. The Yankees got to him immediately. He walked leadoff batter Phil Rizzuto and number three hitter Gil McDougald. Berra and Bauer followed with singles to make it 2-0, then Moose Skowron homered to right to make it 5-0 and chase Spooner, who would never again appear in the Majors. It was all the offense the Yankees would have on the day, but it was more than enough for Ford. He tossed a complete game, scattering four hits and four walks while striking out seven and allowing just one run.

And so, just as they had in 1947 and 1952, the Yankees and Dodgers would play one last game for all the marbles. Stengel chose Tommy Byrne; Alston went with Johnny Podres. The game was scoreless through the first three stanzas. Roy Campanella hit a one out double in the fourth, moved to third on a groundout from Carl Furillo, and scored the game's first run when Gil Hodges singled him home. The Dodgers doubled their lead in the sixth. Reese led off with a single, and the Dodgers attempted a bunt with number three hitter Duke Snider. Yankee first baseman Moose Skowron botched the catch, and both runners were safe. Clean up hitter Campanella bunted both runners over, then Byrne intentionally walked Furillo to load the bases. Stengel summoned Grim, who yielded a sacrifice fly to Gil Hodges, plating an unearned run.

Meanwhile the Yankee bats had no answers for Podres. He had shut them down in Game Three and was shutting them out in Game Seven. The Yankees had the makings of a rally in the bottom of the sixth. Martin led off with a single, and McDougald followed with a bunt base hit to put the tying runs on base for Yogi Berra. Berra, a dead pull hitter, sliced one into the left field corner. Left fielder Sandy Amoros raced to the ball, improbably hauled it in on the fly, and fired back to Reese, who threw to Hodges to double up McDougald. The rally was snuffed out and the Dodgers maintained their two run lead.

In the seventh, Elston Howard struck a two out single. With the pitcher's spot due, Stengel pulled an ace from up his sleeve, tabbing Mickey Mantle to pinch hit. Hobbled by a torn leg muscle, Mantle missed Games One, Two, Five, and Six in their entirety. Yet he managed a home run in his Game Three start, and another one here would tie the game. Instead, he popped to short to end the inning.

The Yankees threatened again the eighth. Singles from Rizzuto and McDougald put the tying runs on base with one out for Yogi Berra and Hank Bauer. Berra flew out to right, too shallow for Rizzuto to tag, and Bauer struck out to end the threat. Once again, Podres wriggled out of a jam.

In the ninth, Skowron tapped back to Podres; Cerv flew to left, and Howard bounced out to Reese. Finally, in their eighth World Series, in their sixth against the Yankees, the Brooklyn Dodgers had captured a championship. At long last, next year had come.

Thursday, December 31, 2009

2009: A Retrospective

We have thus far steered clear of anything reflecting on the year or decade as 2009 has drawn to a close, but we finally cracked on December 31st. Perhaps it's out of some sort of preemptive nostalgia but from where we sit right now, 2009 seems like a pretty special year in a lot of respects. I think that we owe it at least one post.

Here's a look back at the year that was through the eyes of this blog:
When the year began, we were worried about Derek Jeter's poor 2008 but he rebounded in ways that no one was predicting.

We bid adieu to the Giambino.

We questioned the clutchiferousness of CC Sabathia, but he happily proved us wrong when it mattered most.

A-Rod was A-Fraud then A-Roid. He admitted some stuff, made some faces, and then admitted some more. He was injured and returned (with a bang). He copped a feel. He went from choke artist to clutchmaster. He and Kate Hudson came and went. An entire post could be written just about his year - and it already was.

Andy Pettitte returned and returned again.

The Yankees played pool.

The New Stadium opened to mixed reviews, but we eventually came to embrace it. Literally.

After a long offseason the Yankees got off to a slow start and some of the more fragile among the fan base lost their minds.

Nick Swisher pitched.


There were baked goods.

Damaso Marte went missing.


We were introduced to Slade Heathcott.

The Yanks kicked ass and took names in the second half of '09, going 51-22 after the All-Star Break. No team was safe from the fury.

Derek Jeter climbed "the Yankees' Mount Olympus".

The regular season was almost gone. And then it was.






Javier Vazquez and Nick Johnson brought things full circle.

On a personal note, 2009 was an eventful one for me as well:

We got "extremely" drunk in Boston and New Jersey.


I had some second thoughts and made some first impressions. I got fired and time turned elastic. I enjoyed myself. For a moment, I was a legend. Then I moved upstate.

We lost some heros, innovators and great Yankees this year. We parted ways with a radio host, a singer and a beat writer (but those guys aren't dead). Gone are the likes of Melky Cabrera, Austin Jackson, Ian Kennedy, Hideki Matsui and most likely Johnny Damon. Here now are some old familiar faces and some we don't yet know very well.

The New Stadium isn't so new anymore and we aren't getting any younger ourselves, but there is plenty to look forward to in 2010.

Happy New Year.