Life Or Death

Forget competing for a spot in the rotation, according to the New York Post, Joba Chamberlain was apparently pitching for his life yesterday in Tampa. That or they felt the need to remark on the fact that he - like roughly 6 billion other people on this planet - is still in existence.

In the biggest start in the history of anything, Joba was spellbinding. With his entire pitching career hanging in the balance, he summoned a thoroughly gutsy performance, throwing three innings of one run ball in a fucking exhibition game. Hold your applause, please.

/end sarcasm

I know the Post is in the business of making things seem more important than they are, but the notion that Joba's destiny as a starting pitcher hinges on one fucking scrimmage is pretty laughable.

As our friend Joe Pawlikowski pointed out yesterday, almost everyone in the race to be 5th starter (sorry Chad Gaudin) has "led" the competition at one point or another.

First it was Sergio Mitre.

If, as the Yankees insist, there is a genuine competition for the No. 5 spot in Joe Girardi's rotation, then Sergio Mitre is atop the early leader board.

Then Alfredo Aceves.

Whatever approach Aceves is trying this spring with the Yankees, it appears to be working. Considered an unlikely contender for the fifth spot in the rotation, the right-hander has arguably outpitched the competition so far.

Then Phil Hughes.

Hughes has worked eight and two-thirds innings in spring training, allowing seven hits, two runs and two walks, with four strikeouts. If Hughes was the leader for the fifth spot coming into camp, he’s done nothing to lose that standing.

Now Joba is back into the mix. OR IS HE HEADED TO THE BULLPEN?

Some believe Chamberlain and Hughes in the bullpen make the Yankees a stronger team. But Chamberlain had pitched so poorly in the last game that the option of sending him to Triple-A was in the air before the game.

"We will discuss that [Triple-A], but he has had a lot of success out of the bullpen," Girardi said. "We put him back there in the playoffs and he did a good job."

And he apparently will get another chance to help the Yankees where he has been the best - in the bullpen.

Wha-wha-what?

I'm sorry, George A. King III, but I'm going to have to ask you to back up your logic train for inspection.

1. Some people think the Yankees would be better off with both Hughes and Joba in the bullpen. I don't know who these people are, but apparently G.A.K.III does.
   
   
2. Joba was pitching poorly, so the Yanks thought about sending him to AAA.
   
   
3. But the minors are no longer a possibility because of three innings that he pitched against the what was left of the Phillies' lineup in a Spring Training game.
   
   
4. Joe Girardi admitted that AAA is an option but also thinks that Joba was good out of the bullpen in the playoffs, which is, um, debatable.
   
   
5. JOBA WILL BE PITCHING OUT OF THE BULLPEN THIS SEASON.

I don't know who I feel worse for, King, for having to feed the beast and write this drivel or the poor schlub riding a subway somewhere, reading the Post, who actually takes this shit at face value.

17 more days until things actually start to matter. God help us until then.

Trash

I went to school for marketing, but it never ceases to amaze and amuse me how far they have attempted to stretch the Yankee brand at the New Stadium. It's a trash can. Do you really need to have your logo on it? After last night I'm glad they did however, because it neatly sums up the on field product. 

Heading up to the game last night, albeit a little late, I had high hopes. Mathematically, when you flip a coin and it lands on heads four times in a row, the probability of the 5th flip is still 50:50. However, as you are observing the coin tumble in mid-air, you get the feeling that tails is due to show. I had that same feeling last night heading up to the Stadium. They can't lose the first five games against the fackin' Sawx, can they?

They could, in fact. 

As he so often does, Alex Belth captured the feeling permiating these recent Yankees vs. Sox match-ups perfectly.  

These days when the Yankees play the Red Sox it feels like they are losing even when the score is tied, feels like they are trailing before the game has begun. A 6-0 lead in Boston a few weeks back was a mirage. The two teams have played five games and Boston has won all five. It’s not as if the Yankees have been getting blown out; they have been competitive, they have shown some fight, but it’s hard to ignore the basic fact that the Yankees are now the team chasing the Red Sox.

I don't think anyone is ready to accept that notion, but it's becoming harder and harder not to. To halve the season series, the Yanks would need to win 9 of their next 13 against the Sox. 

By the time we got off the subway, the Yanks were already down 4-0. The bright side is that, from our perspective, Joba was unhittable! He stuck out 12 of a possible 17 batters in 5 2/3 innings, sending the annoying P.C. Richard's whistle-jingle throughout the Stadium over and over again. (Sidenote: Is there a K counter in the new joint? I couldn't find it. Hope there is, because it provides important context. I didn't know how many K's Joba had until I got home.)

As you could probably tell from the iPhone posts last night, we didn't watch the game from Sec 429, where our $9 tickets from StubHub were located. Instead, we stood behind Section 122 in what was basically Row 31 (there are 30 actual rows). Unless you are there with kids or are physically unable to stand for the whole game, there is no good reason not to do this. It's easy to shimmy up to the railing, giving you the same view as people who paid hundreds of dollars for their seats. I don't think it takes away from the experience at all. The crowd noise reverberates around the concrete concourses making it louder than it would be elsewhere and the close quarters allow you to chat with other fans.

Johnny Damon's three run knock in the third brought the Yanks within one, but that was as close as they would get. The most exciting play of the game from our vantage point what when Melky Cabrera got busted by inches trying to stretch a double into a triple in the fourth. All the third base coaches in the Field Level concourse were yelling for him to go for third, so we couldn't really fault him for getting thrown out. 

The only significant rally the Yanks put together was in the 6th when Nick Swisher walked and a bad bounce resulting in a ground rule double kept Melky from tying the game. There was still only one out, but Beckett struck out Ramiro Pena swinging then got Jose Molina to ground out to diffuse the threat. 

Fairly late in the game, we were pretty starving and decided to check out the garlic fries. I've never been to a West Coast ballpark (never been to California, actually) so I can't compare and contrast, but I thought they were quite excellent. The garnishment reminded me of a typical escargot-style garlic butter with parsely and thyme. It was a pleasant surprise and I would recommend them to anyone not looking to make out with someone in the near future. 

Aside from the Joba strikeouts and the galic fries, the game was as unsatisfying as I was drunk, which is to say, "pretyt fukcing unnastisyfign". Which brings me to this...

::::Very Important Public Service Announcement::::

Attention drinkers on-the-go! Margaritas and paper cups do not mix. 

You might think that since a paper cup is capable of holding scalding hot liquid, such as coffee or tea, that it could also contain a delicious tequlia beverage. You would be wrong.

You can see the discoloration along the seam. I don't know if it was the Master of Mixes or the Montezuma, but the concoction ate right though the adhesive of the cups from Lenny's and sprung a leak of epic proportions. And this all happened within maybe five minutes. I was forced to pound the rest of it, lest I allow it to leak on the sidewalk in front of the Dakota. 

Margaritis, People Who No Longer Exist & The Boat Basin

Today, Large William Steeze, the Frank-a-nation and myself will be making the journey to the New Stadium to see if Chien Ming Wang can make it through the third inning. If it was last year, this would be only one of 13 Saturdays and just one step along the path to rid the Earth of the horrible affliction known as "Margaritis".

(For those unfamiliar, Margaritis is a chorinic infirmity that occurs only in warm weather and is characterized by extreme sobriety. The only cure is Margaritas.)

The reality of getting shut out of the Saturday package is just starting to set in. We only had it for two years, so we have no right to be all up in arms about not being able to renew it. Our friend Nick sat in the same seats everyday for seven years and got cast aside also.

I love the New Stadium and I understand the implications of he price increases. There are fewer seats to begin with, even before you get into the effects of the "relocation". The people who were in the most expensive seats got bumped back, thereby displacing those further back in the field level, which echoed through the mezzanine, into the upper deck, and eventually trickled down to half season packages, 40 & 20 game plans, and at the bottom of the food chain to the poor schlubs like us with weekend deals.

It would be a lot easier to swallow if we didn't have to look at pictures like this, and this, and this, and this, and this, reminding us of the fact that we got fucked for the sake of people who no longer exist. I don't care what Randy Levine says, behind closed doors there is some serious handwringing going on. Over a month ago, we pointed out the fact that the Yankees were getting desperate and saw the writing on the wall.

It's too late now. The Structure That Mariano Rivera Erected has been completed and the prices have been set. Some people (er, corporations) have already bought packages at full prices and I highly doubt that the Yankees are going to piss off their best customers by selling the seats directly next to them at a discount. The bottom line is that, for pretty much every game that doesn't feature the Mets or Red Sox, there are going to be a ton of people like us Fackfaces watching on YES while many of the best seats in the house sit unoccupied.

Hey, there's always next year, right?

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In other, happier news, it's fucking beautiful outside.

Every year, when the weather starts getting nice, people who live above the Tropic of Cancer (or below the Tropic of Capricorn) start asking themselves the same question: "Why do I live in a place where there is Winter, again?" We forget, but once the mercury passes the 60 degree mark, life becomes a whole lot sweeter.

Exhibit A, captured last night:

Oh, the Boat Basin. What would summer on the West Side be without you?

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That's all for now folks. Although I just figured out how to post from my iPhone, so there may or may be some drunken dispatches from Section 416 once game time rolls around.

In the meantime, get out and get some fresh air:

Some Sensitive Subjects

[For those familiar with the site, I am dropping the typical weekend morning header, for reasons that will be very apparent in about two seconds]

Almost every other blog I read that covers baseball had something on the passing of Nick Adenhart. We would have put a post up as well, but it didn't seem right. None of us knew him and he wasn't on any of our teams. That didn't stop so many others from doing so, and I think that speaks volumes about the sports blogging community and about human nature in general. No one had to send out an email and tell people they should put something up. Most just took it upon themselves to pay tribute to a incredibly talented kid who caught the worst break possible. It kind of destroyed that whole "blogs are mean spirited" cliche.

Most of us never would have met Nick. More than likely, the only way we would have laid eyes on him was when he the Angels came to town and he toed the rubber. But yet, there was still an overwhelming outpouring of support for those who did actually know him. As heartbreaking and painful as death is, it unites people. At every wake or funeral, a few people who had relatively brief or just passing encounters with the departed usually show up and pay their respects.

I think when we saw the headline Thursday morning, we all had the same emotions and reactions. Shock, sorrow, disbelief, empathy, a frog in your throat? Maybe I'm just soft, but there was one in mine. I don't care how much you hate Scott Boras, if watching him try to speak at that press conference wasn't a humanizing moment, you have no soul.

I can't decide if this is a good or bad thing, but the reason that so many people were touched by this was that, in some sense, he was a celebrity. If you are a baseball fan, he was a minor character in your life. He even had a tragic sounding name that could have been plucked from a Shakespearean play. There were two other people who died in that car, but many of the articles didn't even mention their names. If you read what Matt Clapp at Sharipova's Thigh wrote, you would know one of them.

Matt delivered a heartfelt tribute to his best friend, Henry Pearson, who was also killed that night. If you haven't yet, click through and give it a read. It will make you think about your own best friend and realize how unique your relationship is. I found myself hoping that if I ever have to write a piece like that, it won't be for a very long time.

The way it happened almost isn't important anymore, but it's worth noting that they were hit by a car that ran a red light. What the fuck are the odds of two vehicles traveling at a fairly high rate of speed meeting at an intersection in such a forceful collision? If someone forgot their cell phone before they left or some other random thing, it never would have happened.

Of course if the other driver hadn't been drunk it almost certainly wouldn't have happened either. Living in Manhattan, thankfully drunk driving doesn't even enter the equation. It used to though, when I lived in a place where people couldn't just hop in the next cab and give the driver their cross streets. The same goes for Joba Chamberlain, one would imagine.

While watching that video on the Smoking Gun, the one thing that absolutely astonished me was that he had an open bottle of Crown Royal sitting on the passenger's seat. If that had come out when the intial reports of his arrest were published, I'm guessing there would have been a far greater public outcry. There's a difference between drinking and driving and drinking while driving.

Even the staunchest opponents to drunk driving would agree that after having one beer at a backyard BBQ or two glasses of wine at a fundraiser, it's okay to drive. The point being that .08 BAC (or whatever it is in your state) is an arbitrary number. There is some gray area. Most people have probably been in the car with someone who was technically over the limit, but you still trusted implicitly that they did not have their ability to operate the vehicle impaired.

No matter how many tragic drunk driving stories there are out there, people are still going to roll the dice. The fact of the matter is that are some people who, if they think they are capable of driving, are going to get behind the wheel no matter how stiff the consequences are. I'm not saying that is okay, but it's just one of those things you can't legislate. Alcohol impairs your judgement long before it impairs your ability to drive.

Me saying "don't drink and drive" isn't going to change what happens at 1:30AM tomorrow morning when one of you is trying to rationalize getting behind the wheel. The only thing I can say is "think about it". If you get in an accident, it may or may not involve someone else, but it fucking surely will involve you.

[As the headline implies, these are issues that hit close to home for a lot of people. As always, my email is on the side of the site, and I will reply.]

Guitar Solo Sunday (03/08/09)

Unfortunately for you Fackers, I was not able to secure a solo from a reader/friend this week, although there are a few in the works. As a result I laid another sacrifice to the Guitar Gods upon the altar (terrace), this one acoustic.

For what it's worth, I'm a whole lot more proud of this than the 450Hz electric one I posted last week (plus, it's shorter!).




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Not sure where else this would fit, so here is a pretty sick picture of the San Remo:

Guitar Solo Sunday

Anyone up for a new recurring feature?

Here are the rules:

1. No other instruments (for now)
2. No singing
3. Under 5 minutes
4. Take a picture of the scene of the crime
5. Make a simple YouTube of it
   
6. Make your mother proud

I have left the initial offering to the Guitar Gods below.

It was actually tuned up to 450Hz, which is where Clapton plays almost all of his Derek and the Dominoes stuff, which is why it sounds a little more bright than usual. See if you can spot the 60's song melody line that drops a little ways in.

I captured it on the terrible sound recorder program that comes on my computer, which is why there is a crackling in the background. When I figure out how to use the reel to reel recorder that was sitting in our lobby on Friday night (pictured above) with a note that said "Needs a home (barely used)", that will change.

Since it's usually just my PRS and me, it feels kind of cool to throw this up in this space knowing at least a few of you might enjoy it. But it would be awesome if I never did this again, and instead had readers/friends chip them in. Anyone out there with a black Custom Shop Les Paul and a PA system in his basement where we have played over 1,000 games (conservatively) of beer pong who would like to expose me for the marginal guitarist that I am? After that, we could duel Clapton vs. Harrison style. Poolroom jam next time I'm upstate with the R2R? I can think of another Yankee blogger with a vintage telecaster who may or may not like to weigh in.

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There is a strange combination of anonymity and exhibitionism about blogging. There are only a handful of people of people in this world who have ever heard me play the guitar. I could probably name every single one. But at the same time, I feel compelled to post it on this blog where people I have never laid eyes on are probably going to think it sucks, just for the fuck of it.

I apologize for the bait and switch aspect of putting this up on what appears to be a sports blog, but I'm guessing some of you like music. After all, Donald Trump thinks it is the most popular thing in the world.

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Anyway, here it is. It kind of dies in the middle, but picks back up at the end. Somehow it turned out to be 4:20 long. Go figure...

I'll call this "Christmas Cactus" after the plant my grandma gave me sitting on top of my dresser.

Torre: A-Rod Is A Taint

Oh, I'm sorry, I may have misquoted you, Joe.

I'm happy that Alex admitted it. Knowing him personally, I know how proud he is of what he's done and how hard he works. I haven't been around anyone who works harder. I know it's important to him to continue to add to his numbers, because he has a chance to do a lot of special things numbers-wise, but now they're going to be tainted, because people don't forget.

It's laughable that this is even a headline on my ESPN Widget.

When it comes to steroids, the meejah thinks that calling someone's numbers "tainted" is tantamount to saying they are the biggest dirty fucking cheater who ever pissed on Babe Ruth's grave. The fact of the matter is that his numbers, and everyone's from this era, are now indisputably tainted, and that should be obvious.

Think about the word "taint". Awwww, not the Urban Dictionary definition, sicko. This one:

• taint (tnt)

v. taint·ed, taint·ing, taints

1. To affect with or as if with a disease.

2. To affect with decay or putrefaction; spoil.

3. To corrupt morally.

4. To affect with a tinge of something reprehensible.

All it takes is "a tinge". This is "a truckload". To me, if something is tainted, it means it can never be the same again. No matter what happens from here on out, history has already been written. Alex Rodriguez used steroids and that's never going away. Eight years from now, when he's 56 and dating Stevie Nicks, he's still going to hear "Aaaaayyy-Raaawwwd!!! Yaaawwwaah aaaahhh faaacccckkkinnn cheeeeaaataaah!!!!!!" every time he sets foot on the grass at Fenway Park.

If your girlfriend (or boyfriend for our six female readers) cheats on you, it's not something that goes away. You might smooth it over and get back together, but you don't erase the past.

Which is why A-Rod might be a taint, but Bud Selig is an asshole; that which makes the taint vile to begin with. Even though he backed off his earlier statements about suspending A-Rod and reinstating Hank Aaron as the Home Run King, the fact that he would ever say either of those things gives you some insight into some of the specific ways in which he is such an insufferable prick.

He thought about suspending A-Rod based on the results of a test that was supposed to be anonymous, and didn't turn out to be so because HIS LEAGUE didn't destroy the results as was originally agreed upon. If you didn't think he was in the tank for the owners already, he basically forgot the MLBPA was part of the MLB. I'm guessing when one of his daughters did something wrong, he'd her sit down and say "Honey, just tell me what happened and you won't get in trouble, okay?" And then when she admitted it, he would slap her across the face and say "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME??!?"

And the Home Run Title... Bud Selig thinks you, baseball fan, are an idiot. An ignoramus incapable of even the most basic objective analysis. Because if you walked into a hypothetical museum and saw a photo retrospective of each player's career with, aside from pictures and captions, just some basic career stats and no other details, you would just assume that Barry Bonds is the All-Time Home Run Leader because he has seven more round-trippers than Hank Aaron. You wouldn't find it suspicious, you dumbass, that Barry Bonds' career exploded at the same time as the size of his head and biceps, when he was 35 and turned into the greatest hitter to ever walk the planet. The fact that he put up the greatest offensive season of all-time at the age of 39 after his middle-aged metamorphosis, wouldn't seem odd to you. Because you are that fucking stupid. You asswipe.

That wasn't me typing, that was Bud Selig. He needs the record books to be changed because you can't decide whether or not PEDs were worth eight, EIGHT - fucking eight - of Barry Bonds' 762 career home runs.

Andy Pettitte: The Yankees' Slippers

I have the perfect pair of slippers. They are the kind of invaluable possession that you can replace with an identical item, but it wouldn’t be the same. I found them online four years ago when I was in college for $50, and it may have been one of the best apparel related purchases I have ever made. They slide on my feet so perfectly that I sometimes forget I have them on. When I’m wearing them, I can quiet the impossibly creaky floors of my apartment like a Amazonian tribesman hunting in a leafy forest. If only I had temporarily lost them at some point, they would be the perfect metaphor for what Andy Pettitte is to the Yankees.

If the Yankees are lucky, they could probably approximate Pettitte’s production by trading for Jarrod Washburn or cobbling together Phil Hughes, Alfredo Aceves, Ian Kennedy, recent addition Jason Johnson and Phil Coke. But it just wouldn't be the same. The lefty has endeared himself to the Yankees fan base to a near-Jeterian level, and was obviously a cornerstone of the late 90's dynasty. I remember seeing him pitch for the Albany-Colonie Yankees when I was 10 years old. He's seems like a humble, family guy and is almost Brett Favrerous in his interviews and press conferences.

Like Jeter, his timing was impeccable. He made his debut in Don Mattingly's final year in the Bronx. He threw 8 1/3 scoreless innings in Game 5 of the 1996 World Series. He's also been remarkably consistent, making 30 or more starts in 10 out of his 11 seasons in the Bronx and amassing 192 regular season wins for the Yankees behind only Whitey Ford and Red Ruffing. [Ed. note: I'd use better stats here, but I think an intangible (fan love), is best summed up by an arbitrary and incomplete stat (wins). See: Rivera, Mariano (saves)]

Despite his poor second half last year, the "two" times he admittedly used HGH or his hiatus in Houston, fans (like me) still love Pettitte to a fault. He wears #46, which was my favorite number before he ever put on the pinstripes. I don't want to see this guy go.

But the stalemate between him and the Yankees is giving me second thoughts. This situation reminds me of the stand-off between the cable providers and the NFL Network which is still keeping NFL-N out of a whole lot of homes who would like to have it. You know one or both of these sides is being irrationally difficult, and regardless of whose fault it is, the fans are getting screwed.

If you don't mind, I'd like to play arbitrator/Judge Judy real quick...

Mr. Cashman, et. al: This is not where you want to pinch pennies. We've been over this. Pettitte will almost certainly provide stability to the rotation and figures to throw 190-210 innings to the tune of a league average ERA. Why would you want to pass on this? In terms of fit with the team and flexibility via length of contract, there isn't a better pitcher on the market (or in the system). I know $10M is a lot of money. It's roughly 36,986 times greater than my net worth ($273.43), but you can probably see why he might take issue with his team committing $243.5M to the rotation this offseason and then quibbling over a couple of million bones with a guy who they drafted 17 years ago, right?

Mr. Pettitte: Dude, it's nothing personal. I know the three guys who weren't affected by the shitty economy this offseason were signed by the Yankees, but take a moment and survey the free agent landscape. Pat Burrell just took a 50% pay cut. Quality guys like Adam Dunn, Manny and Bobby Abreu are sitting out there unsigned and if they want to play next season, are going to have to take some pretty significant hits as well. But you want to make more than Derek Lowe is going to next year after he had a 3.24 ERA and a 1.13 WHIP last year as opposed a 4.54 and 1.41. You've publicly stated that you want to take the mound at The New Stadium and don't want to pitch anywhere else. If you go somewhere else, your Yankee Legacy (TM) is going to be forever tarnished.

Verdict: Give him $12M and let this discussion end. How a team and a player can be $6M apart is beyond me. This isn't probably going entirely one way ($10M) or another ($16M), and I think the Yankees position makes about $1M more sense. Come on Cash... step right in.

Why Do 8-8 Teams Host Playoff Games?

Like Joe, I would have picked the Colts and the Falcons yesterday. Objectively, analytically, theoretically they seemed like the better teams. Manning's Colts had won 9 straight, and Matty Ice's Falcons had taken 5 out of their last 6. They both had better records than the 8-8 division winners, and were Vegas favorites. Now we are left to grapple with annoying football analyst talking points like home field advantage.

In a single game, how much does it really matter? Ironically, in baseball, where you have the tangible advantage of batting in the bottom half of the inning, home field advantage creates a 54/46 advantage, slightly less significant than in football (56/44). Vegas says 3 points, Bill Simmons says "nawt that impawtahnt any mahwah", so who really knows? One would imagine crowd noise certainly can have a greater motivational impact on players in more physical-effort-oriented sports. The adrenaline spike provided by the crowd's cheers isn't going to help Mariano Rivera locate his cutter, but it might help Brandon Jacobs punch it into the endzone. Regardless, can we just give HFA to the better team?

It's bad enough that winning a division automatically grants a team a playoff berth when teams with better records get locked out. That's probably not going to change. But those teams get to host the game too? Why? Both the Cardinals and the Chargers were 3-7 outside their division. Can we please at least give home field advantage to the team with the better record?

As a fan of a team with a first round bye, I am thrilled by the outcomes of yesterday's games (sorry Joe). Let these teams win at home in their domes, because next weekend those teams are going on the road to the blustery Meadowlands or to chilly (in January) Charlotte, where the Panthers went 8-0 this season. But taking my personal rooting interests (for this season alone) out of the equation, the system is kinda retarded.