F*&! Joe Torre

Since Joe Torre breaks our hearts, this blog will break his balls. Every day of the season I will detail the errors, misjudgements, and omissions that make him the most overrated manger in the history of the game (even more than Tommy Lasorda!). But Joe Torre is not just one bum in hero's clothing (i.e. the pinstripes); he is the quintessential counterfeit of excellence, a figure who embodies the triumph of the ersatz that pervades every aspect of our culture. No organization in sport, nay in civilization generally, has manifested a committment to continuing greatness like the New York Yankees, a beacon to all, in every field of endeavor, that the best is always possible. How intolerable is it then that the Yankees should be managed by a mediocrity on stilts, a figure with a reputation for greatness without any of the attributes thereof. Beginning with Torre and ending with Torre, this blog will look to smash idols we create out of inadvertence, ignorance, and complacency.

Friday, April 14, 2006

Twin yuck!

It is tempting to suggest that now that the Yankees are back facing major league pitching again, they have resumed their losing ways. But in fact Scott Baker doesn't really count as major league pitching (lifetime record 3-4). He is certainly the very bottom of the Twins rotation and should not be able, on his best night, to hold the Yankees to a single run. Tomorrow we get Santann and the prospect of a losing streak. Wasted was another good outing from Mussina, who has been very consistent this year, even as the Yankees give him very little support. Two of his three strong performances have resulted in losses. And this time, it was the best of the Yankee hitters that lost the game. Jeter came up with runners on second and third, one out, and failed to get the job done and Sheffield followed by ending the inning. Later on Posada got himself thrown out at the plate on a fly to right, just to remove all doubt that he is the slowest man on the planet.

Meanwhile Boston won their third 2-1 game of the year behind the fat man, who struck Ichiro out with men on second and third, one out, to protect that lead in the seventh. His fastball is barely hitting ninety, and is often closer to 85, so we'll have to see how long this dominance can last. But for now, hate him as I do (and I think he's the biggest putz not just in baseball but in all of sport), I have to admit this is impressive. Especially sinse the Sox offensive fall off is even steeper than I had foreseen.

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