Monday's MVP

Monday night, which of course would have been Game Five, had there been a Game Five, I found myself in Manhattan with G-Man, and by some kind of coincidence, the two of us found ourselves back at the bar at Keens Chophouse on 36th Street. Funny how that happens. Seems like every time Chuck and I meet in New York, we end up on 36th Street. But that’s a good thing, not merely because it’s becoming familiar to us, but because I’ve yet to find a better selection of malts anywhere. And although this blog has chronicled our visits to a number of great whisky drinking locations, none matches the variety of malts, nor the remarkable combination of great whisky and incomparable steaks.

We sampled four malts, two rounds, and the bartender was kind enough to suggest splitting the pours, so that made things easier for G-man and me. We started with Aberlour 16, which John and I had once tasted at the City Bar, in the Lenox Hotel, the day we ended up at the Last Hurrah. Perhaps because we drank such fabulous whisky later that day at the Last Hurrah, or perhaps because we drank so much whisky later that day, the Aberlour 16 seemed to get overlooked. But this is really a very nice Speyside malt. John and I are huge fans of Aberlour, and I thought that the 16 had replaced the 15, which was their first malt finished in sherry casks. Now I’m not so sure, because the Aberlour website is once again listing the 15. Either way, 15 or 16, this malt is more finished, and more flavorful than the 12, also finished in sherry. Also, Aberlour’s sherry finish is less overpowering than say, Macallan’s, leaving more of the original malt flavor, and a more subtle hint from the sherry casks. Very enjoyable drink. The Aberlour was complimented by Bunnahabhain 18, about which I have posted at length –it’s one of Danny’s favorites.

Round two, we had a cask strength Cragganmore, which was a touch rough around the edges, although full of flavor, but which suffered by comparison to the star of the evening- Macallan Fine Oak 17. I’ve come to prefer the Fine Oak series of Macallan more than their sherry finished whiskies, and one can find the 15 rather easily around town. The 15 is terrific; for most occasions you can’t ask for anything more. But somehow, the extra two years in the cask, which doesn’t sound like it should make that much of a difference, just astonished me. I could hardly believe how good this whisky was. And just to keep things in perspective, this was still before we had the porterhouse, still before I had become intoxicated with Keens overpowering flavors; and I think I was still able to judge this whisky dispassionately. So my objective and unemotional assessment of this whisky is that it’s fucking unbelievable. That’s my review. Forget about its finish, its nose, its flavor, all that business. Just expect to have your mind blown when you drink this whisky. Unfortunately, it’s a little too pricey on the shelf, if you can even find it on the shelf. Close to $100. So I won’t be stocking it regularly in the cabinet. But for Monday night in New York, at Keens on 36th Street, with my boy G-man, it won the MVP.

Looking Back on the Post-Season

Looking back on the post-season, the one indelible image is Beckett dominating the opposition. From the opening game against the Angels, through Game One of the Series, Beckett gave no ground to anyone. The post-season began with a shutout that never felt close, once the Sox had scored early. A couple of his games were close for a while, before the bats came alive. Game Five of the ALCS comes to mind, with the score 2-1 through six, and the Indians needing only a single victory to advance. But as soon as the Sox added a couple runs in the seventh, game over. Probably one reason the Rockies' rally in Game Four felt short was the knowledge that they'd only have to face Beckett the following night, an exercise in futility.

Other than Beckett, the post-season was a montage of highlights for pretty much everyone else on the roster. Because I have hardly slept for three weeks, it’s a bit of a blur, but still, here’s what sticks out for me:

● Manny’s walk-off in the wee hours against the Angels, the ball launched over the monster, over Lansdowne Street, over Kenmore, over the river, into New Hampshire;

●Papi and Manny being unstoppable early in the post-season, carrying the Sox until the other bats came alive.

●The luck changing in Game 5 of the ALCS - Youk’s double tailing away from Sizemore; and the Sox adding three more in the eighth when the Indians blew an easy double play;

●J.D. Drew’s slam in the bottom of the first inning, Game Six of the ALCS. I had just walked in the house, coming home from the Cuse’s big victory over Buffalo; Mike calling to say the bases were loaded in the first, and telling me to turn on the TV. When the Sox had two quick outs, I wondered, was another opportunity to be wasted? And then Drew hammered the ball into centerfield. The first of three consecutive routs was on.

●Schilling, forty years old, no longer dominant, but still getting the job done in Game Six of the ALCS, and Game Two of the Series. Why does that sound familiar?

●Pedroia’s five RBIs in Game Seven; which then ended with Youk hitting the Coke bottle, always a good omen.

●Pedroia and Ellsbury going seven for ten in Game Three of the Series; especially big in the eighth inning, after the Rockies had cut the lead to a single run, the two rookies knocked in three, and that game was suddenly over.

●Okajima’s amazing performance in Game Two, when he retired seven straight batters, four on strikeouts, and allowed the Sox to win despite having scored only two runs. I was happy to see, once the Series ended, and all the pundits weighed in, that everyone remembered this first appearance, and wrote off the two home-runs in the later games as mere hiccups.

●Dice-K pitching almost perfectly for five innings in Game Three of the Series. John wondered if Tito hadn’t pulled Dice too quickly, and it certainly looked that way an inning later, when the bullpen had faltered, and the Rockies had scored five. But the late rally allowed everyone to go back, and appreciate the great job Dice-K had done for those first five innings.

●Bobby Kielty, the ultimate journeyman, hitting the game winner in the final game, in his only post-season appearance. He’s almost the Dave Roberts of 2007.

●Jon Lester. Just seeing Lester on the mound in the Series, only a year after being diagnosed with lymphoma, was moving enough. But to see him go five shutout innings; how great was that?

●And the final image of 2007 is the image we saw at the end of all the close games, including the final game of the year – Papelbon on the mound, retiring the last batter. I haven’t checked the cumulative box, but I don’t think Pap allowed an earned run in the entire post-season.

So that frames the picture – Beckett starting things off, or more accurately, denying anyone the chance to start things off; and then Papelbon finishing things off. Both of them are only in their twenties; and how long has it been since the Sox had the game’s best pitchers? What was the name of that guy who got sold in 1918?

Job Number One

In the aftermath of last night's sweep, there's immediate speculation about the Sox future. Will Mike Lowell be back? He has to be back; that's Theo's number one priority. How about Schill, has he pitched his last game for the Nation? I hope not. Despite his age, and the deterioration of his stuff, he still came up big in another October. But while Theo is working all that out, we have our own decisions to make: most importantly, what's this year's kipah going to look like? In 2004, anyone could see that the Sox had divine assistance, without which they never could have won Games Four and Five. This year it was more subtle; but we've previously pointed out how the luck changed in Game Five of the ALCS, and seemed to stay with the Sox all through the series. Just for example, in each of the games out west, potential Rockie home runs fell a foot short, last night backing Ellsbury right into the left field wall. So even though many wonder whether Papelbon has sold his soul to the devil, in exchange for that blistering fastball, we need to give thanks once more, just as we did in 2004.

Here are some things to think about: Red or Blue? Even though we've done blue before, twice before if you count the Orange, blue is less ostentaious, and easier to wear in public. Plus, most of the distinctive Sox lettering won't easily work on red. On the other hand, we could use a design consistent with the bright red home jersies. We used the two socks in 2004; How about the big B? Clearly, there has to be mention of 2007, but do we have some phrase we want to incorporate? "See the ball, hit the ball" is probably too long; and I don't recall anything to match 2004's "why not us?" So let's get some suggestions from the faithful, so I can contact my man in Jerusalem.

I was planning to post about Lester's comeback, all the way from last year's chemotherapy to this fall's win in the deciding game of the world series. But I'm pleased to see that the print media are all over this story; there's nothing we really need to add. Beyond that, everything from the last three weeks seems a blur. Ever since ALDS Game Two, when Manny hit that walk-off at close to 1 am, after a long Friday night of baseball, it seems that most of the games have gone well beyond midnight. So right now, looking back, especially at the final seven games, it's hard to sort everything out: J.D. Drew's grand slam; Beckett's dominant performances; the rookies coming up so big; Kielty hitting the Game Four winner in his one world series appearance; Youk drilling the coke bottle. When did that happen? I know my readers look forward not only to insightful analysis, but to unending reminiscence. For now though, let's just leave it with : GoSox.

Kurosawa would be proud

As the nation and its haters argue over paradigm shifts between the Red Sox and other unnamed teams no longer playing in the postseason, I'll add my own contribution. Last night, after Okajima stranded two Rockies in the sixth, Pops informed me that he's "the Zen master of relief pitching". Expanding on this it becomes clear that the '07 Sox are the Samurai class of MLB.

The Tokugawa Shogunate was one of relative peace in Japan, and the Samurai, who had previously been warriors, became increasingly philosophic and artistic. They refined their swordsmanship, and developed a culture that included Haiku, brush painting, Zen Buddhism, and the tea ceremony.

In the post 2004 ear, the Sox seem to be doing the same. Manny and Papi have refined their swordsmanship, filling in gaps in their strokes and finding ways to get all types of hits. Some lamented Papi's drop in homers, but his average, on base percentage and doubles all rose to career highs. Manny has developed a keen awareness of Haiku, including my favorite: "See the ball, hit the ball." Beckett and Paplebon have mastered caligraphy. They've been painting the corners all season. Although Schill and Dice-K have both considered Hara-Kiri, they've backed off that precipice and fought valiantly. Great warriors don't fear death. Some of you might have noticed the drumming in the bullpen. This too is a throwback to the Tokugawa Shogunate. And after last night who can argue that Okajima isn't a Zen Master?

So there you have it. Am I right?

Where Have All the Haters Gone?

As the ALCS drew to a conclusion, the activity on this blog reached a frenzied level. All across the northeast, haters were inspired to comment on recent postings, many reaching new and audacious creative heights, and all of them talking relentless shit on the Sox. At one point yesterday, it became almost impossible to keep up with all the comments, as the frequency and length of the haters’ musings grew to previously unimaginable levels. And then suddenly, it all came to a halt. Simultaneously it seemed, all the haters’ voices were stilled; not a one had a single thing to add. What caused this change?

The answer lies in the chronology of events. A careful look at the timing of yesterday’s comments reveals that the last hater’s comment was posted by Unkle Rico, and came on-line at 5:38 pm. That coincided almost precisely with yesterday’s posting, Not Evil Enough. I submit that when Rico put his last comment up, he had not yet read Not Evil Enough. In fact, Rico’s last comment quotes repeatedly from this writer’s brief comment at 4:55 pm, which merely promised a more thoughtful rejoinder to the day’s Yankee postulations. So then the question is, what was it about the last posting that silenced the haters?

It had to be the plague story. It’s one thing for each of us to confront our opponents’ respective opinions, but quite another to face up to the incontrovertible facts. And the plague story is based purely on fact, and not at all on opinion. I mean, we all watched that game. We all saw the bugs crawling all over Carmona. But not one of those ‘insects’ interfered with Carmona's ability to throw strikes. Not in the least. On the other hand, Chamberlain was completely undone. His control disappeared, and the tying run came across the plate. So as much as they’d like to argue, the haters really have nothing to say about the plague. We’ll have to wait for Game One, I suppose, before the dialogue resumes.

Not Evil Enough

In comments to last night’s post, G-Man and Rico raise issues of vital importance to the Nation. In fact, they are so important that I need to respond with a posting, and not merely another comment. And after all, this is our blog, and we claim the author’s prerogatives.

G-Man suggests that the Sox success of the past few years will cause unbearable pressure for the entire organization – Can they handle it? And from there he suggests that this success will, in the end, make the current version of the Sox just like their hated rivals: “We have met the enemy and he is us.” Rico talks about mirrors, and then claims that Sox fans have become the embodiment of all they used to stand against. To figure out what’s going on, let’s just look at the facts.

While G-Man is partially right, he’s also wrong. The right part is that the Sox recent success will increase expectations among the Nation. Clearly, no one will be happy that we just made the Series; everyone now wants to win the whole thing. But the wrong part is that he fails to see that there remain clear differences between the Sox faithful, and supporters of the evil Yankees. First off, look at what’s happened since 2004. We got swept in the 2005 Division series, and last year didn’t even make it to the post-season. But what was the general reaction? Did we, or management, call for anyone’s head? I don’t recall the owners publicly chewing out anybody for a disappointing finish. Instead, the question was merely, how do we get better? When we lost Damon, it wasn’t because he was blamed for any letdown or failures; management just botched the negotiations. When Trot left, folks were sorry to see him go, but if you recall, he received a wonderful ovation on his first return to Fenway. He was even greeted warmly at the start of the ALCS, until he knocked in the winning run in Game Two. But Trot was old, and hadn’t been healthy, and we needed new blood. So it was about new blood, not bad blood. Or how about Manny, when he didn’t play at the end of 2006? Everyone in New York talked trash on Manny, but the Nation just awaited his return in 2007. Or even Kevin Millar and last night’s first pitch? Last time we had Game Seven, the Yankees brought in Bucky Dent. What was that all about? Yankee thinking figured that Dent’s bad karma would bring about a Sox collapse. Dent brought bad karma all right, but it all ended up in the pinstripe dugout. Last night, by way of contrast, Millar, an active Oriole, came with only good karma. He didn’t even choose sides, noting that he had friends in both dugouts. Now Rico says, it’s all about the love after 2004. But who among the Yankees acts that way?

That’s not all. The second difference here is that after 2004, while the expectations remain high among the Sox faithful, and while a loss in the Series would mean disappointment, it won’t mean despair. Before 2004, season ending losses were crushing: Aaron Boone; Bucky Dent; Bill Buckner. But 2004 erased a lifetime of despair, and now when Sox fans think – wait till next year - that’s what they mean. It’s not a euphemism for: we’re never going to win this thing. Now, next year’s championship is always a possibility. Look at how everyone talked about Dice-K coming into last night’s game. First year in the majors; more games than he ever pitched in Japan; AL hitters are tougher up and down the line-up; and remember the trouble Beckett had adjusting to the AL East last year. In other words, Dice will be better next year. (And by the way, while he wasn’t dominant last night, he was good enough. He and Schilling kept the Indians down, and let the bats take over from there.)

What G-Man and Rico fail to understand is that the difficult part is not how well the Sox will handle success, it’s how well the Yankees will handle adversity. We all know that the measure of a mensch is how well he (or she) performs when things aren’t going well. Sox Nation has had a whole lifetime of hard times upon which to draw. A sweep in the ALDS; a season when we don’t make the playoffs; what’s the big deal? We can come back from that. After all, we went not only 86 years without a title, but over 20 years without an invitation to the dance. Yankees make the playoff every year with Joe Torre, every year, and management has to motivate him to make it to the World Series? Really, these musings of Rico and G-man are a perverse kind of wishful thinking, but in the final analysis, both are wrong. Mike said it best: No one wants to be you.

And lastly, if you don’t believe me, if you need objective proof that everything I’m saying here is true, look no farther than the ALDS series with Cleveland. That was not a ‘swarm of insects’, as Rico called it. It was a plague. Now think about that carefully. The Yankees come to Jacobs Field, and a plague descends on the field in the late innings. Although both teams are exposed to the same visitation, the plague afflicts only one team; and that team is defeated, despite having its previously invincible reliever on the mound. Does that sound like an accident? Not at all. And if you don’t believe me, reread Exodus, Chapters 7 to 12. So answer me this: if the Yankees aren’t evil, why would a plague have been sent to defeat them?

It’s so simple – I don’t know why Yankee fans can’t see all this more clearly. The real reason the Sox will never be the Yankees is that they’re not evil. The Yankees are the evil empire because they are evil. And if that’s a fact, tell me, am I lying?

Read All About It

In case this story isn’t covered by the New York papers, permit me to advise all those Yankee fans who read this blog about the outcome of tonight’s Game Seven. The Sox prevailed, and will return to the World Series for the second time in this new century. The World Series is what we call the championship of major league baseball; it’s a best of seven competition; first team to win four games is crowned the champion. Twenty zero, baby.

Now the secret to the Sox success was, as I previously noted, that the luck changed. That, and the fact that we outscored the Indians 30-5 over the final three games. But really, how much luck did we have tonight? Lofton called out at second base after that throw by Manny; Lofton held at third on that weird play in the top of the seventh, and then Blake hit into a double play; Tek’s pop-up dropped in for a ground rule double in the eighth, when Peralta and Blake bumped into each other, and then all hell broke loose. So yes, the Sox were pretty good over those final three games, but they were good and they were lucky.

The metaphorical end of the ALCS occurred when Youk hit the Coke bottle in the bottom of the eighth. Those Coke bottles are a couple miles up in the air; somewhere in the stratosphere, and as John points out, even Manny hits them only rarely. That monster homer was a fitting end of the ALCS for Youk, who batted 500, and knocked in seven runs, and would have been the MVP had it not been for Josh Beckett, who after all kept the Sox alive in Game Five, just long enough for the luck to change, which it did in the seventh inning of that game. And as Rico points out, Youk is a member of the tribe, the tribe that matters.

So come Wednesday night, we’ll be playing in Fenway again. At least two more games in the park. These Rockies are on fire, and took two of three from the Sox earlier this year. So we need the luck to remain on our side. That, and Beckett on the mound, and someone new knocking in five RBIs every night. A little more of that would be just fine.

Onuaku Rips the Board

It’s a big sports weekend; Game Seven tonight; Tom Brady torching the once proud Dolphins as I write; Cuse pulled out a big win over Buffalo yesterday, even covering the spread. How huge was that? But here’s a sports highlight all my loyal readers can enjoy, without exception – Friday night, the University threw a coming out party for the basketball team, and during a scrimmage, Arinze Onuaku went up for a alley-oop dunk, and ripped down a backboard. Video footage can be found at 9WSYR.com. Click through to Sports, then SU sports, then SU videos. According to the Syracuse papers, in the frenzy that followed, Paul Harris threw his shoes into the crowd, and once the glass had been cleaned from the court, the announcer had to plead for the return of PH’s shoes, so the game could continue. I know we’re still in the middle of October, but it’s fun to get excited about the coming winter.

Luck

It’s the ALCS, Game Six; the Sox are down 3-2; Schilling will be on the mound, after having had a disappointing start earlier in the series. Does this have a familiar ring to the Nation?

The big story last night was, of course, Beckett. Another dominant post-season start. This one eight innings, one run, eleven Ks. In three post-season games this year he has 26 Ks, and only a single walk. His ERA is 1.17.

But the story everyone overlooked, and perhaps the bigger story – we won’t really know until we see what happens in Game Six, and whether there is a Game seven – was how the luck changed. Through the first four games, and even the first few innings last night, the Indians had all the luck. Now don’t misunderstand me; their pitchers were really stepping up; their hitters up and down the lineup were getting good at-bats; they were clearly playing well. But they also had all the luck. A couple examples: Game Three – Lofton’s home run is inches over the wall in right; last night early, before the change, Manny’s hit is an inch short of over the wall in right, and a run never goes up for the Sox. Or Game Four, in the fifth inning – the only inning when the Indians scored – that line drive glances off Wake’s glove. If Wake catches it, double play. If he never touches it, Pedroia gets the double play. Either way, we’re out of the inning with one run in. But as it happened, the inning blew up, and Cleveland scored seven.

But by the seventh inning of last night’s game, alhough we didn't know it yet, the luck was starting to change. In the top of the seventh, Youk lined to the gap in right. It tailed away from a diving Sizemore, and glanced off his glove. Had Sizemore left it for Gutierrez, it looked like an out. But it dropped in and led to two Boston runs. And if that weren't proof enough, in the eighth inning, with one on and one out, Coco predictably hit a double play ball back to Perez – the inning should have been over. Until Perez threw into the dirt and everyone was safe. Then Lugo bunted his way on; Mastny threw a wild pitch; a couple walks followed; and by the time the inning had ended, the Sox had scored three more, and led 7-1. I watched every highlight reel; I read all through the Herald; but no one really picked up on the blown double play. And perhaps it was only last night. Perhaps it won’t mean anything on Saturday. But if the luck has changed, and we’ve got Schilling going in Game Six, anything is possible. The Sox are a good team this year, but if they’re also lucky, they’re an even better team.

Taking Issue with Bloom - Abraham and Justice

According to Bloom, Abraham’s finest moment occurs on the road to Sodom, in the episode where Abraham negotiates with God for the lives of the innocent souls of Sodom, and urges God not to destroy the entire city if there are first fifty, and then eventually ten, blameless persons in the city. “Would you still stamp it out rather than spare the place for the sake of the fifty righteous people in the midst of the city?” (Gen. 18:24.) I have used this passage previously to help explain the genius of Abraham, who seemingly teaches God about justice.

In the Book of J, Bloom cites to Martin Buber, who finds this passage the boldest speech of any person in all of Scripture. According to Buber, or perhaps it’s just Bloom explaining Buber, the purpose of Abraham’s intercession is to remind God just exactly who God is, or is supposed to be. God seems to have forgotten his promise to Noah after the flood, and has also forgotten just how fragile his creation, i.e., life, really is. Abraham, on the other hand, is looking for justice, “demanding that [God] be accurate in seeing the difference between the innocent and the contemptuous.” (Bloom 302) Of course, in a sense, the same God who wants to destroy Sodom, is the same God who created Abraham, chose him for his covenant, and thus allowed him to argue for justice on behalf of the Sodomites.

This discussion leads Bloom to compare J’s God with Freud’s superego; both are the source of our guilt, and both demand that we, or our egos, surrender our aggressivity, or to some extent our freedom. Both act as some limiting or inhibiting force, restraining the creativity, or the vitality, or perhaps the originality of man. I know this will sound completely presumptuous, but I think Bloom has got it backwards.

Bloom sees J as a writer of surpassing depth and originality, unmatched in depicting the human condition until the birth of Shakespeare, some twenty five hundred years later. According to Bloom, J’s real hero is King David, and her book ( the original text from which the Torah evolved), is really an attempt to look back on the history of David’s people, and trace the origins of, and the reasons for, God’s blessing, which David apparently received in greater measure than any other figure in our history. Here is how Bloom explains the Book of J:

It is a series of extraordinary stories, the stories of how the people of David became a people…[how God] created the Blessing of life and then extended it to many…and thus prepared for the Blessing given to David and Solomon. (Bloom 284)

Bloom then traces the origin of this people back, not to Moses, but to Abraham.

I won’t presume to second-guess Bloom about the literary genius of J. But by the time she sat down to pay homage to King David, and his people, and to explain why it was they enjoyed God’s blessing, this people had existed for a thousand years. And they must have carried with them some set of beliefs and principles that formed the seed of J’s extraordinary stories. And my thesis has been, since I have been laboring over Genesis, that these ideas originated with Abraham, the first genius of recorded history. In earlier posts, I suggested that what the Akeidah tells us is that Abraham ended human sacrifice. And what the story of Sodom, and Abraham’s negotiation with God tells us, is that Abraham changed the nature of justice in the ancient world.

So then where Bloom seems to have misunderstood things, is not that God or superego or whatever, is the source of guilt, holding human accomplishment in check, but just the opposite. Abraham sought to tame the savage and indiscriminate elements of the human condition, which in the ancient world seemed to wreak vengeance on anyone and everyone, for any reason, or for no reason at all. (Who does that sound like?) Human history is the story of the journey from savagery to civilization. Once we all lived in caves, or on the grasslands, killed our neighbors, stole their women, and murdered their children; later on, once the beginnings of civilization had developed, even if we had gathered in cities, or even nations, we still acted in savage ways, imposing collective punishment on those we conquered, and probably still stealing their women and murdering their children. But someone in history saw that there was a different way of life. Someone understood that, for humankind to move forward, there needed to be an ethical dimension to life. In our ancient text, now codified as the Tanach, but originating with the Book of J, Abraham is the original source of that idea. And while it may have taken J a millennium to write it down, and perhaps she was a writer of transcendent originality; still, it was Abraham who first came to apprehend the concepts that gave rise to our people, and the our chronicle.

10-3 Again

The ALCS opened last night with the Sox winning 10-3; their second consecutive ALCS victory by that exact score. Right now, they’ve got the recipe down. Beckett has been dominant in his two post-season appearances; and the duo of Papi and Manny has been unstoppable so far. The Boston papers are full of amazing stats, but here are just a couple: in this year’s post-season to date, the cumulative on-base average for Papi and Manny is .806. Through four games Papi is batting 778; Manny’s only hitting .500 but has driven in seven runs. It’s unlikely this pace can continue, especially as all the teams still playing have great pitching staffs. And it’s hard to imagine Carmona not being able to retire either of these guys, who reached base in all ten of last night’s plate appearance. Gagne meanwhile had a nerve-wracking appearance in the ninth. Two hits and a walk, but three strikeouts and no runs. Game ended with the bases loaded, and no harm done, but I'm not sure he's ready to be thrown into a tied-up extra-inning game.

Meanwhile, another weird association between the Sox and a Mass. politician has come to my attention. This isn’t news to anyone in Boston, but I have been reading how Mitt Romney invested in the Yes Empire, owner of the detested Yankees. It brings to mind John Kerry’s infamous claim that his favorite RedSox player was Manny Ortez. I had wanted to spearhead the “Free Manny Ortez” movement, reasoning as follows. Kerry lived on Beacon Street, only a short stroll from Fenway, so I figured he must know something we didn’t know. And since the elusive Manny Ortez was nowhere to be found on the active roster, he must have been languishing in some Latin American prison. Perhaps Hugo Chavez had him locked up; refusing his entry into the U.S. Maybe he was a Cuban dissident. Whatever the case, I think ‘Free Manny Ortez’ t-shirts would have been big sellers in Kenmore. And why isn’t there a huge grass-roots movement, demanding that Romney, and all Mass. politicians for that matter, divest themselves of investments in the Evil Empire?

I just heard the news that Danny made it to Keen’s last night, so all my readers will want to know which of the 270 malts he sampled. By the way, did they have the game on in the bar?

Pinstripe Advice

The moment the Yankees were eliminated from the post-season, all the media began with predictions, suggestions, and prognostications about the future of that franchise. Who would stay and who would go? (Sounds a lot like the Rosh Hashanah liturgy.) So anyway, because I always have good advice for everyone, and because this is a topic of interest, not only to me, but to all my readers, here are my suggestions, from the top down.

First of all, the Boss has to take a more active role in managing the franchise. Enough of this hands-off approach of the past decade. George has to get back in the press, bad mouthing all the guys who didn’t perform well in the post-season; personally recommending free-agents; and even doing some negotiating. Maybe he should learn Japanese.

Cashman, and all the guys who advised him about all the terrific free agent signings should stick around. Perhaps they all need to work harder; or maybe they just haven’t been paying enough money over the past few years, but it would be a big mistake to let any of them go. Kevin Brown? Carl Pavano? OK, so they made a couple mistakes here and there, but I wouldn’t be discouraged by that. I’d suggest staying the course. Same goes for the scout who signed up Igawa. That guy definitely should stay.

Torre, on the other hand, I would let go. I know that he has managed the Yankees into the post-season for the past twelve years, and isn’t that how long he’s been the manager? But really, with no championships since 2000 (twenty-zero), how good a job has he really been doing? Yes, yes, I know the Yankees were eight games below 500 sometime late in May; and I also know that he turned the club around with the best record in baseball since Memorial Day. But who cares about that if they lose in the Division Series every year? Really, four straight post-season series losses—enough is enough. Time for a change.

A-Rod. He’s definitely a keeper. I mean the guy is a lock for the MVP again – two out of the past three years. So what if he’s never done squat in the post-season. I mean he broke that hitless streak against the Indians; he hit that home run in Game 4; and who else could afford his gigantic salary anyway? First order of business should be to lock up A-Rod.

Posada and Matsui. I’d let them go. Matsui is getting old, and he was banged up a bunch this year. Posada will undoubtedly ask for too much money. Instead, give that money to A-Rod and find someone new to work with the pitching staff. You know, it’s possible that some of the Yankees pitching problems this year stemmed from Posada’s handling of the staff. Maybe it really wasn’t Kevin Brown, and Igawa who were all screwed up. Maybe Posada just wasn’t calling a good game. Management should think about that before paying this guy a lot of dough.

Roger Clemens. Now I don’t want to say I told you so, but didn’t I warn you guys that Roger was being paid too much for too little? I mean, he was paid around $17 mill this year, for a 500 record, and not much help in the post-season. How much of that 17 large, very large, did he really earn? Still, he’s a favorite in NY; the Boss seems to love him; and I think that the Yankees should sign him up for one more year. Why not? Just don’t bring him in quite so early. Save him for the August stretch drive. By the way, I’d let Pettitte go again. That’s right – keep Clemens; don’t keep Pettitte. And as long as we’re on the topic, let Mariano go too. He’s past his prime. How many bats did he break this year, in comparison to how many blown saves?

Now with all those big names leaving, the Yankees are going to need to trade some of the young guys in order to restock their roster with aging veterans. Cano and Chamberlain will probably be the best trade bait. How about trading Chamberlain for Greg Maddox? Then the Yankees can have two 300 game winners on their staff at the same time. How long has it been since any franchise could make that claim?

Anyway, the Boss has all winter to think about these suggestions. Let’s hope he does the right thing.