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.

Saturday, March 31, 2007

Let the Games Begin

Yes, it's opening day and I might well mean the baseball games, you know the season itself. But for the Yankees and the pathetic yet vituperative whiners to the north, the real game,winner take all, just might be the signing of Roger Clemens. The Yankees' reluctance to use Phil Hughes, the fitness issues with Sanchez, the fact that the other bright prospects--Clippard, Jackson, Wright, and to a more dubious extent Ohlleford--are not ready yet, leaves us uncomfortably reliant on an aging Moose, a gutless Pavano, and an untried Igawa. The addition of Clemens would change everything. If you believe, as I do, that Igawa will turn out a pretty fair pitcher--12-13 wins--Mussina will hold on for one more year at the lower standards we have grown use to--12-14 wins--then a rotation with them at the back-end (1. Wang 2. Clemens 3. Pettite 4. Mussina 5. Igawa) becomes an officially monster proposition, particularly if Pavano returns to the form he never really had in the first place.

And yet Boston's need of a Rocket is, if anything, even greater. With a less potent offense than the Yankees, they also have just now, and I never thought I'd be saying this, a weaker starting rotation, at least over the long haul. It seems that wherever Papelbon goes, Boston has an excess of riches--they're bullpen looks amazing right now--and wherever he leaves, poverty ensues. Consider: their number one, Schilling, is still a good pitcher, but he has been in decline the past two years and probably can only be counted on for 15-16 wins. He is at best a push with Wang. Dice-K looks very good but inconsistent. It is doubtful he will be anything like the 2nd coming of Pedro (no Japanese pitcher ever has been) but he will surely be a quality starter, 17-18 wins seems likely. If Schilling-Wang is a push with a slight advantage to the Yanks, dice-Pettite is a push with a slight advantage to the Sox. At three you have incommensurables. Beckett could, I suppose, be much better than Mussina or he could do what he did last year and again this spring: look great one outing and get rocked the next, leaving him a less productive number three than Mussina. To this point things are pretty much even. But Igawa, whose spring was as good as Matzusaka's, is a much better bet at number 4 than Wakefield, who is in decline from a less than illustrious career, and even Pavano, and certainly a mid-season Hughes, is a far better option than Taveras, whose place in the major leagues, let alone a contending rotation, is a mystery to me. Here again, though, Clemens changes everything. Dice-K is an awesome no. 3, Beckett a potentially monster no.4, and Taveras can go back to the bullpen or to pasture. Plus of course they have Papelbon, Donnelly, Romero and Timlin to relieve. Without Clemens, the Red Sox finish third again; with him they win it. Without Clemens, the Yankees might finish second; with him they win by at least seven.

Let the games begin: first one to sign Roger wins. Ans if that doesn't make you positively sick of free agent baseball, nothing can.