Posted on November 5, 2009, 7:00 AM in Sports, Yankees
I have had an incredibly up and down year. Can't even begin to get into details in this post, though some of the better machinations will be playing themselves out in this space in the months to come. But you know I had a good year, overall, when it starts getting cold outside and the Yankees are celebrating deep into Autumn.
I grew up on the last Yankee Dynasty. Endured a childhood rife with Mets fans celebrating the only Championship they've won in our lifetimes, to see Derek Jeter, Bernie Williams, Andy Pettite and the great Mariano Rivera go on to win 4 World Series titles in 5 years, two additional Pennants and a string of 13 consecutive playoff berths which finally ended with Joe Torre's departure in 2007.
I slept on sidewalk after filthy sidewalk for tickets, saw the overwhelming majority of great moments that happened in the old Stadium in my lifetime, and take everything the Yankees do very, very personally. They are my religion, my passion, my love.
And goddamn the Yankees are back now, huh?
To the haters, the prognosticators, the equivocators and those who can't bring themselves to admit one of the most dominating AND classy group of professionals you'll ever enjoy watching play the greatest game on earth just won the World Series... I'd dedicate this victory to you...
I love my Giants. The Super Bowl victory last February only whetted our appetites here in New York and I've grown convinced that this team is poised to become a Dynasty. Who would you rather build a team around than Eli Manning? He's not going to be the highest rated passer or the most touchdowns/yards thrown guy in the NFL ever... but he's got that Derek Jeter big play-stuff about him and he's the reason they beat the Patriots. And he'll be the reason they crush the Philadelphia Eagles tonight.
Oh, and that defense. Goddamn, that's an incredible pass rush they're going to throw at poor old Donovan McNabb...
2008 comes out of the gate according to plan. The final season played at baseball's grand Cathedral opened with timely hitting, aggressive baserunning, incredible fielding by the most-underrated firecracker centerfielder in the game, a strong start by Wang and a slam the door in your face closeout by the best bullpen in baseball.
In other news, Pedro Martinez wastes no time proving me right. Neither the Mets nor the Red Sox are making the playoffs this year. You heard it here first.
Bush threw out the first pitch on ESPN's nationally televised Nationals/Braves game last night and was suitably serenaded the way a man of his 'popularity' can only be.
I'll say it again... if you picked the Patriots (never mind that ridiculous point spread) you are a bigger chump than Tom Brady.
The Giants put that man down and he never knew what hit him. Everything the Patriots looked like they enjoyed all year... the pocket protection... the cocky rainbow passes to Randy "Perennial Loser" Moss were taken from them and they were exposed as the cheap, untested suit the '72 Dolphins squad must have been waiting for the clock to strike midnight on all along.
I thought this Giants team was no better than 4-12 before the season started. With Tiki gone, Strahan holding out through training camp and a coach who seemed to have one foot in the grave and the other on the job security banana peel, I never imagined this. Not after losing to Dallas and Green Bay to start the year. Not after Eli Manning began to once again resemble Rain Man without the math skills.
But holy fuck what a game.
That Giants defense is magic in a bottle and, beyond the great Michael Strahan, they are set to dominate with youth, speed and pain for a long time. They shut down Brady and his vanilla offense for the entire goddamn game, America.
This was no fluke. This was no Cinderella story. The best team on the field won the Super Bowl. The best team this post-season took it home.
After a brief Randy Moss sighting in the fourth quarter (the first I can recall in a long time), Eli Manning led a drive down the field that will rank alongside Joe Montana's heroics against the Cincinnati Bengals so long ago. Ice water coursing through his veins, Kid Manning slipped what looked like a prison rape gang tackle, shook off the lowly Patriots pass rush and arced one incredible long pass over the middle to David Tryee who must still be bending over backwards to catch it with his fingertips.
Get used to hearing terms like "The Drive" and "The Catch" with entirely new meanings now. Greatest completion since Montana to Dwight Clark.
Again, in pretending to some effective degree that the 2001 Super Bowl didn't happen, I've chosen to re-live the glory that was Super Bowl XXV.
I had to work that night, toiling at the neighborhood Carvel, slinging ice cream for the body image-challenged sort that populated the suburban Long Island town I had spent my high school years living amongst. Undaunted, I recall carrying my bedroom television to the store, setting up a makeshift antenna out of aluminum foil that worked a little bit better than awful when one would firmly and repeatedly smack the side of the set, and doing a pretty shitty job selling ice cream sundaes and birthday cakes while the closest Super Bowl in history played out in front of me (along with both the coworkers and loiterers gathered around this flickering, snowy hearth I'd fashioned).
I'll refrain from the recap of the infamous (if you're a Buffalo fan) end. But you can watch the entire final 10 minutes below. Ominously, they talk about Scott Norwood throughout. It always comes down to the kicker in a tight spot. Always seems to, anyway. And they only remember you, as I know they do in Buffalo, when you earn it... for better or worse.
What a game. What a fucking game. Though, if you've been paying attention, this shouldn't surprise you. This team is magic. Ever since that goal line stand in Washington, they've gotten better and better. What's one more road game in two weeks?
If you're a betting man, how do you not take the Giants over the Patriots at this point? They're playing with the house's money right now and thriving. Man, I can't wait to watch this defense take another crack at Tom Brady.
Greatest Giants game since last week's game in Dallas. And they're both two of the biggest in Giants history.
Yankees future (and present?) franchise ace pitcher Phil Hughes has a blog. And it's not one of those ridiculous commercial site-hosted deals either.
In one post, he picks the Giants over the Packers Sunday, contemplates using Metallica's "For Whom the Bell Tolls" as his walkout song (an excellent choice, btw) and wishes for an end to our cursed writers strike so new episodes of "The Office" can be made.
Seems like a nice, bright kid with a hell of a future. I'm looking forward to a big 2008 and to seeing him open the new Yankee Stadium in 2009. A pitching talent like Hughes comes along once in a long, long time. Very excited, I am.
Assuming we don't trade him for Johan Santana, I mean.
God, it feels great to beat the fucking Cowboys...
Next week's NFC Championship game on the frozen tundra of Green Bay's Lambeau Field is the biggest Giants' game in 20 years (note: I have conveniently forgotten the 2001 Super Bowl loss to Baltimore and, to make the memory purge that much easier, the NFC Championship win over the Vikings that preceded it -- I'm nothing if not thorough).
How long before Jessica Simpson dumps the biggest pretender of a big name quarterback I've ever had the pleasure to watch melt down in the playoffs? I'm assuming Michael Strahan will still consider her, but not for very long...
My Giants seem to be surging at the right time. I believe Eli Manning has most of the same tools his brother Peyton has. I think he's got lightning in that right arm... he simply might be mildly retarded or something, hence the slow development.
We shall see...
Meanwhile, the trash talking escalates. I wish the Giants would shutup, myself... though it's hard not to smile when Michael Strahan both stands up for Dallas QB Tony Romo in his dating (and understandable distraction) Jessica Simpson... as well as makes his own move on Miss Daisy Duke.
To quote Strahan: "...if Jessica Simpson wanted to date me, I may give her a shot."
Should make for very interesting trash talk when the Giants all-time sack leader plants Romo into the turf on Sunday.
In one emotionally wrung and high-pitched battle which might have showcased Roger Clemens' final appearance in the game we've been watching him dominate for the past twenty some-odd years, the Yankees survived to face the back end of the Indians' rotation another day.
With Joe Torre's job apparently on the line, an appalling fact if true, the players responded and beat the snot out of Cleveland.
The always excellent Bob Klapisch writes in today's Record:
Torre chose not to use Steinbrenner's comments as a rallying point before Game 3, as tempting as it must've been. The manager spoke to his players in a closed-door meeting and could've easily reminded them the loudmouth Steinbrenner was at it again.
But Torre never broke stride. Instead, he summoned Yogi Berra into the room and, according to one person who witnessed the meeting, asked Yogi what he thought of being down 0-2 in a best-of-five series.
"Well, you know, it isn't over 'til it's over," Berra said, breaking up the room. "We were down [1-3] in the '58 Series against the [Milwaukee] Braves and we came back to win that one."
"Yeah, I know, my brother was on that team," Torre said, referring to Frank.
The Yankees left the meeting feeling renewed. Johnny Damon said, "We knew there was a lot on the line, we love Joe Torre." Wouldn't you know, the Bombers blew away the Indians when it mattered.
Game four kicks off tonight at the Stadium. Chien Ming Wang is pitching on short rest but he dominates at home, so... good move, Joe.
When this is all over and the Yankees have bested the Indians in five games (would have been four if they weren't fucked by the descending bugs in Game 2), we'll remember that Cleveland manager Eric Wedge elected not to move up CC Sabbathia so he could get the dominant Fausto Carmona the start in game 5.
Everything's on the line. More drama. More heartstrings pulled tighter than a drum.
Game two in Cleveland had been a true classic. Andy Pettite was vintage, shutting down the Indians and preserving a 1-0 lead after Melky Cabrera somehow homered off Fausto Carmona... who had been absolutely untouchable.
Then... the plague descended. A swarm of locust or whatever the fuck they were ('Canadian Soldiers' we would later be told) blew in from Lake Eerie and Joba Chamberlain couldn't see... couldn't throw strikes for the first time, apparently, in his life, walked Grady Sizemore, threw two wild pitches in the inning and allowed Grady to come around and tie the game.
After a brilliant inning plus from the great Mariano Rivera, the Yankees were forced to go with 'Bullpen Option C' in the form of Jose Vizcaino... who promptly walked the leadoff runner, loaded the bases, and sent the Yankees back home nursing an 0-2 record and facing elimination later today in the Bronx.
Fucking crap.
Roger goes today and I expect another vintage pitching performance. Mussina and Hughes are available to back the Rocket up since, really, we have no true bullpen to be trusted other than Joba (who is still amazing and wouldn't hide behind the bugs as an excuse even though I would have allowed it, myself) and Mo.
I also expect the Yankees to pound Westbrook... then Paul Byrd tomorrow... before taking this thing back to Cleveland on Tuesday for another go-round with CC Sabbathia. The Yankees have been here before. They've come back from the brink all season long.
It's not quite the same as watching them clinch the AL East title (which they've done every year since 1998)... but watching Boston slowly gag on success (let alone, the cross-town Mets whom the papers had all but crowned the new kings of the city before their bullpen and confidence imploded) has been almost as entertaining as watching the Bombers complete the greatest second half surge I've ever seen in baseball (with apologies to 1978).
I never lost faith in this team... in Arod... in Joe Torre... in nothing. Not after about 50 starts by rookie pitchers, a woeful April and a near-catastrophic month of May. This is a very talented, tenacious, hungry and dangerous squad and I say let's light this sumbitch up and get it on already.
This was the scene in Tampa Bay last night:
Incidentally, this was the back page of the Daily News on July 2nd, when the Yanks were about 14 games or so behind the Red Sox:
I've seen a lot of great things from this team in my day. And, granted, if they don't at least get to the World Series (let alone win it), some of the luster on this amazing comeback season will be lost. But I've been entertained and impressed in ways I've never experienced as a Yankee fan, this year. This annual rush to the post-season no longer feels like a somewhat-unlikely but admirable extension of the Joe Torre/Mariano Rivera/Derek Jeter championship years... living on the fumes of yesteryear, reminding us all of what used to be.
No.
With all the rookie talent they've brought up and are continuously developing... with a new Stadium in the works... the All-Star Game in the Bronx next year to say good-bye to the current one... I'd say this team stands on the brink of something new.
Let the haters spew. Your tears taste sweet as ever. The Yankees are back and they're not going anywhere anytime soon.
**Update: Statement from George Steinbrenner
"I'm elated," Steinbrenner said in a statement. "After a tough first half of the season when everyone seemed to lose faith except for our players and our fans, the team has really stepped up and shown themselves to be the champions that they are. ... I really like the mix of veterans and younger players who have contributed to this comeback. It has been exciting to watch them play, coalesce and pull together. The fans and I look forward to the team accomplishing our ultimate goal -- bringing a world championship back to New York."
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