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.

Monday, July 03, 2006

Typical (Squared)

Which one of the following items best characterizes Yankees losses this year. They score their only two runs on an early inning Giambi homer. They leave men in scoring position with less than 2 outs in multiple innings. They leave a man on 3rd with less than 2 outs by striking out not once but twice. They allow the go ahead runs to score on a bad defensive play. Their starter (not Mussina) insists on pitching away from contact, thus building his pitch count while staying behind the hitters. Joe Torre, having mismanaged his bench, and still waiting for Cashman to pick up some kind of past his prime professional hitter, sends up a rookie just up from Columbus in a crucial situation and just hopes for a miracle.

If you answered all of the above, you have accurately described the depressing performance the Yankees gave in Cleveland tronight, effectively killing whatever momentum they might have gathered (evidently not much) from their destruction of the Mets last night. A special tipm of the cap to Cabrera, who misjudged a victor Martinez flyball and allowed it to land for a double, even though it barely reached the warning track, and then just for good measure bobbled the ball twice while retrieving it, allowing the go ahead as well as tying runs to score.

With Williams in right--he runs almost as bad as he throws; did you see the pop up he let drop Sunday night--and Cabrera in left, the Yankees outfield is a toxic waste dump just waiting to poison the entire season. At this point, neither Cabrera nor Phillips are contributing enough offensively to justify the present configuration of the outfield. Either hold your nose, let Giambi play first, get Crosby in right and put williams, who is hitting, at DH, or sit Cabrera, put Damon in left, Crosby in center, and shade him as much as you dare into right to cover for Bernie.

Boston's version of the YES channel is running a show called What If, which features some sort of computer projection of what would have happened had Grady Little taken Pedro out in the 2002 ACLS. What's next computer projections of what would have happened had the Shea grounds crew watered the first base area a little more vigorously in 1986?
Congratulating the only Red Sox fan I actually like upon their success in 2004, I told him that the nice thing for chowderhead nation would be that they would find the epic traumas of the past--Bucky (bleeping) Dent (What If: Torres had intentionally walked him?), Bill (bleeping) Buckner, Aaron (bleeping) Boone (What If: Bob and wife had stopped after Brett?)--would be retroactively miniaturized into ruefully amusing setbacks preparing for and sweetening the breakthrough triumph. Evidently, my friend excepted, I had underestimated how truly pathetic chowderhead nation really is. Evidently Z was right when he said Sox fans are all about resentiment, so much so in fact that they continue to nurse it even after its enabling condition has vanished. Which is to say, Red Sox nation is for losers, whether the team itself is winning or not.

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