No, Wait...

... I spoke too soon. THIS is really the kind of thing you should try to announce at 3:15 AM:



Yep. Via RAB, the Yanks have signed... gah... Sir Sidney Ponson to a minor league deal. That sound you hear is the entire Scranton-Wilkes Barre Police Department whipping out their breathalyzers.

Ponson, famous for his multiple DUIs, inexplicable knighthood (wtf, Netherlands?), and occasional Aruban judge-punching, was released by Texas a few weeks ago -- and while you might assume he's learned his lesson and the Rangers just dropped him because he's not a good pitcher, you'd be wrong:

Ponson was reportedly put on notice after creating a serious disturbance at the hotel bar in St. Petersburg, Fla. during the team's recent road trip and told that further problems would not be tolerated.

He also reacted furiously after being taken out of a June 4 game against the Indians and with being pushed back from the start that was to follow that outing, prompting Rangers general manager Jon Daniels to say, "We don't feel Sidney deserves to be here or wants to be here."

Of course I doubt Ponson will start for the Yankees more than a few times, if at all (light a candle for Dan Giese), so this probably won't end up being very significant. But as much as everyone's been getting on the Mets the last two days, and rightfully so, let's be careful about bemoaning their lack of class as compared to the Yankees*, a team which within the span of a few hours has deliberately allied itself with both Sidney Ponson and the Hard Rock Cafe.


*I've heard a lot of this, even from Mets fans, who I can only assume are so aggravated right now that they're suffering from selective memory loss. Never mind that smarmy crypto-offer the Yankees made to Joe Torre just last fall -- I mean, Billy Martin would have killed to be fired as tactfully as Willie Randolph was.

And If You Don't Know, Now You Know

I've got a post about Chuck Knoblauch up at the Banter, for those of you who're interested.



Meanwhile Johan Santana and the Mets made it official last night, of course, and there was much rejoicing. MetsBlog must have set some sort of page view record yesterday; I did little but click "refresh" for three hours straight, and I was not alone. Anyway, I was going to do a Get To Know post on him, but really, I pretty much covered Santana back in December. As I said then:

I think one reason I'm fascinated by Santana is that I know so little about him, which is what happens when relatively quiet people play for teams in the middle of the country. I don't get to see a lot of interviews or quotes from the guy, which means it's easy to make him into something of an ideal figure. (Plus I used to read a lot of Bat Girl; she referred to him simply as El Presidente).

The only off-field Santana antic I can remember made me like him even more -- it happened this past summer, when the Twins came to Shea. Minnesota broadcaster Bert Blyleven bet Santana he couldn't throw a complete game shutout (note to Blyleven: this works much better with Sidney Ponson); it turned out Santana could, and indeed did, so Blyleven had to let him shave his head:



I think the best part of all this is that while pitching his complete game shutout, Johan Santana was apparently thinking about how he would get to shave Bert Blyleven's head.

I say trade every minor leaguer that isn't nailed down.

Rewatching that video, I'll add that Santana also sounds a little bit like a muppet. But in a good way! Also, check out this additional Johan video, from a fan in the stands; anyone who messes with Sidney Ponson during his downtime is, clearly, a man after my own heart.

Take Mike Pelfrey -- Please!

So there's no real news on the Johan Santana front. But I just wanted to go on record as saying that if I were running either New York team, I'd give the Twins what they reportedly want these days. I would also give away front-row seats, send a little person up to bat, hire players based on their names, and be fired within days, but that's neither here nor there.

From the Yankees, that would mean Phil Hughes, Melky Cabrera, Jeff Marquez, and some other unnamed guy who isn't Ian Kennedy. I'm not down on Phil Hughes at all, I think he's eventually going to be excellent... but as good as Johan Santana? Almost no one is. Most of the sharper Yankee fans I know want the team to keep Hughes, and I can see the logic (it's certainly vastly more cost-effective), and I'll enjoy watching him pitch if they do. But it's Johan Sanata!

Of course, as you know if you've read this blog for even a few weeks, I have an only semi-rational fixation on the guy, so I may well be wrong here. I just thought I should get these thoughts in writing, so that years from now, either:

A) When Phil Hughes blows out his elbow while resisting arrest on charges of dogfighting and perjury, I can link back to this post and crow about how right I was; or

B) When Johan Santana blows out his elbow while resisting arrest on charges of dogfighting and perjury, you can link back to this post and crow about what a moron I am. Fair's fair.

The truth is, though, I would much rather see Santana land with the Mets. They need him more right now, and watching him in his prime against the bottom of the National League batting orders would be simultaneously beautiful and terrifying. Also, nothing would get the taste of the last few weeks of the Mets' season out of everyone's mouths faster. Yes, they may have to "rip up their farm system" to get the guy... but I mean, their farm system's not that great these days anyway.

I think one reason I'm fascinated by Santana is that I know so little about him, which is what happens when relatively quiet people play for teams in the middle of the country. I don't get to see a lot of interviews or quotes from the guy, which means it's easy to make him into something of an ideal figure. (Plus I used to read a lot of Bat Girl; she referred to him simply as El Presidente).

The only off-field Santana antic I can remember made me like him even more -- it happened this past summer, when the Twins came to Shea. Minnesota broadcaster Bert Blyleven bet Santana he couldn't throw a complete game shutout (note to Blyleven: this works much better with Sidney Ponson); it turned out Santana could, and indeed did, so Blyleven had to let him shave his head:



I think the best part of all this is that while pitching his complete game shutout, Johan Santana was apparently thinking about how he would get to shave Bert Blyleven's head.

I say trade every minor leaguer that isn't nailed down.

Too Bad He Didn't Take Better Care of His Body, Like That David Wells

So when I said I thought Mike Mussina would bounce back tonight somewhat... I, uh... well, I guess six runs in three innings is better than seven runs in 1.2 innings? Yikes.

That was an extremely painful game to watch, on a human level more than a sports fan level. Mussina's struggled before, but not like this; he's been one of the best pitchers of his generation, and this might be the end, and he's not ready for it. The post-game interview was just heartbreaking. "I don’t even know how to describe it because I’ve never had to deal with it before," he said. Watching him on the mound was awkward, almost embarrassing, like we should turn off the TV and give him some privacy. Give Mussina credit for sticking around to talk to reporters -- I would have been out of there like a shot, I'd imagine -- but he looked, and sounded, shattered. No confidence; none of his trademark snarkiness, even. Can an athlete really lose it that fast? From Tyler Kepner's NY Times story:

“Right now, I let go of it and I don’t feel like anything good is going to happen,” Mussina said. “It’s tough to pitch that way. You can’t play the game that way to feel like you have no control over anything, and that’s how I feel right now..."...

...The Yankees owe Mussina more than $11 million for next season, but he seems to be nearing the end. It is a scary and sudden reality, and it has knocked him as low as he has ever been.

“It feels like I’m never going to pitch well enough to get to the sixth or seventh inning again,” Mussina said. “That’s just how it feels right now.”

I have to believe that given time to make adjustments, Mussina can be, if not good again, at least mediocre --I don't care how old he is, I refuse to believe he's a less viable pitcher than Sir Sidney Ponson -- but unfortunately, time to make adjustments is exactly what the Yankees don't have.

In less agonizing news...

--Meant to mention this earlier, but Scott Proctor pitched against the Mets on Friday night, and not very well -- walk, hit, hit, balk... "It's possible he may have been somewhat overused," said Gary Cohen gingerly. It is indeed. However, I see Proctor has wasted no time in taking advantage of the Dodgers' more relaxed grooming rules and is already sporting a big off-putting tuft of chin-beard. So at least he's got that going for him.

Makes you wonder, how many Yankees would grow awful facial hair if only they could? You know Brian Bruney is just yearning for a goatee.

--In general, though I'd prefer them to stay right where they are in the NL East, I like the Phillies: Ryan Howard seems thoughtful and kind in interviews, Jimmy Rollins is funny*, Shane Victorino has a solid nickname in "The Flyin' Hawaiian," and Antonio Alfonseco has six fingers on each hand, which is awesome. Then there's that great clip of the whole team helping the Rockies' grounds crew with the tarp during a dangerously windy storm, which still makes me smile. But they do have one really glaring flaw in their likeability... and its name is Brett Myers. On the plus side, screaming violently at a reporter for no good reason is certainly a huge step up from smacking your wife around on a street in Boston. Baby steps!

Wait, THIS guy hit his wife? No way!

--Finally, Jim Dolan has donated to the Hilary Clinton campaign. Okay, that's it, I've finally made up my mind: I'm going with Obama.



*I still can't believe people got so worked up over his pre-season comment that the Phillies were going to be "the team to beat." What's the guy supposed to say? "I look forward to another year of frustrating near-misses"?

If There Is Ever A Braves-Red Sox World Series, I Will Flee To Europe

Well, it wasn't the smoothest weekend in New York's two biggest baseball rivalries. I was at the Mets-Braves game at Shea Saturday when, accompanied by absolutely gorgeous weather (finally!), Oliver Perez pitched a gem. He allowed no walks in more than six innings, one start after allowing seven in less than three. Go figure. Meanwhile the offense flexed its muscles with home runs by Jose Reyes, Ramon Castro, and Damion Easley and four hits from Carlos Beltran, and they won 7-2. Between the relatively low-stress win and the sunshine and the breeze, the crowd was in such a good mood they barely even bothered to call the enormously fat man in my section wearing a Derek Jeter jersey an asshole, and several children in Chipper Jones tees were left unmolested. Spring fever!

Today was a different story, though. The Mets got a nice little lead for Tom Glavine, once again pitching against his pal John Smoltz, only to watch the bullpen spit it back up. Three of the Mets' four losses to the Braves this season have been come-from-behind wins for Atlanta, and it's starting to look like maybe there's a few demons left after all. The Mets are only half a game back, though, so there's no real cause for concern at the moment. The Yankees, however... well, more on them tomorrow. Everything looks better in the morning.

Scattered Mets notes from the weekend:

• One overzealous Mets fan was arrested after he (allegedly!) pointed a bright flashlight into the eyes of Tim Hudson and Edgar Renteria during Friday's game. Granted, you can't have people doing this (and the guy is 40, which is pretty damn pathetic), but he was charged with "interfering with a professional sporting event" -- who the hell knew that was a crime? And can we arraign Sidney Ponson on those charges?
  

• Joe Smith is such a cool story. Not even a year out of college -- Wright State, no less -- he's now made ten appearances without allowing a run. Obviously that streak will end at some point, probably sooner rather than later, but he looks like the real deal, and Willie Randolph's been using him in big spots from the start. On Saturday, he came in with the bases full of Braves and struck out Andruw Jones: he said Shea Stadium got so loud it made him shake. Awesome. It'll be interesting to see how, or if, hitters adapt once they get used to his unusual delivery...
  

• Love the fake tomahawk chop once the Mets get a comfortable lead, as they did Saturday. I loathe that chant and it deserves to be mocked whenever possible. I was also thrilled when Rangers fans at the Garden broke it out as New York was demolishing the Atlanta Thrashers -- though, since half their hockey team is from Eastern Europe, I kind of doubt they had any idea what the fuck was being referenced.
  

• This would be a good time for David Wright to snap out of his slump. After one of his at-bats Saturday, when he once again left runners on base, the crowd at Shea kind of, almost, sort of made a booing noise. A little bit. It never quite materialized, but they were right on the edge. And the idea of Wright getting booed at home is completely demoralizing.

• I always figured John Smoltz was kind of a jerk. Not for any particular reason that I can remember now, but since the mid-90s I've pretty much operated under that assumption. (I know there's a reason I starting hating Chipper Jones in '96, too, but damned if I can put my finger on it). Recently though, Smoltz has seemed downright funny and agreeable in interviews. And if he really is good friends with Tom Glavine, AAA-grade upstanding citizen, well, it's very possible I was wrong about him. I'm totally annoyed by this realization; it's a major pain to try to correct a full decade of irrational but now deeply rooted dislike. Actually, I might start disliking the guy for this very reason. Thanks a lot, Smoltz. Why'd you have to go and be a decent guy after all for no reason? Bastard. Yes... this could work.

Gooooooooooooooooood Afternooooon, Everybody

Well, I've healed the only way I know how: drinking heavily by night, and, during the day, sitting around in my pajamas with my dog, listening to depressing indie music, and watching "Mike and the Mad Dog" all afternoon. (Oddly, the shriller Dog gets, the more soothing I find the show).

So, back to baseball. I'm getting so sick of saying, thinking, hearing, and writing "it's only spring training" that you can tell this last week is going to be a long one, but the monotony was broken up today when Carl Pavano pitched solidly... and narrowly avoided being attacked by a swarm of bees. No, really.

Meanwhile, Aaron Sele had a solid outing for the Mets. I'm rooting for him to make the team because he seems like an awfully nice guy, but I can't honestly say I think he'd be better than Mike Pelfrey. Solid long reliever though, maybe? And Billy Wagner got seriously lit up, but hey, don't worry, Mets fans: Armando Benitez may be available on the trade market! If Steve Phillips were still around, he'd know what to do about it...


Finally, as of last week, when I first discovered his existence, I've got a new favorite player: Denard Span, of the Twins. No relation, as far as I know; but I've never met or even heard of another Span outside of my immediate family, so I'm adopting him. This is all I've been able to find out so far: he's from Tampa, 23 years old and incredibly fast, apparently a very good fielder but without much of an arm, and... well, maybe hitting isn't his strong suite, but did I mention how fast he is? He'll be starting at AAA, but I was stung to find BP's PECOTA system projecting him Denard to hit .281/.330/.382 this season, with a VORP of -.7. I'm taking this as a personal affront. Mark my words: he's gonna prove everybody wrong! I'm so sure of this that if he doesn't end up with a positive Value Over Replacement Player by the end of the season, I'll change my name to Denard.*

You know, I really like the Twins in general: I adore Torii Hunter even though intellectually I realize he's been overrated much of his career, I'm pretty sure that Johan Santana is a god, the name Boof Bonser makes me smile... I could go on. So it pains me to see that they still seem to be seriously considering Sidney Ponson for a starting job. I know pitching is scare these days, but for pity's sake... do you have no one at AAA? Can't we all try to at least maintain a little dignity?


*Probably not really.

May Auld Acquaintance Be Traded For Mid-Level Prospects

Happy New Year, kids.

The Randy Johnson deal is almost complete, as the D-backs have agreed in principle to an extension. I'm still all for this (age, back -- they can't all be Roger Clemenses... er... Clemensi?). But, that said, there's no need to trash the Unit on his way out the door: he was often ineffective, but he gave full effort every grumpy inch of the way, and pitched through a lot of pain. Balky back and all, he gave the Yanks a heaping pile of innings over the last two years, even if they came with a generous side order of home runs. He also handled his indirect trade request with some class; he never demanded a move, just let Cashman know that he'd accept one if it made sense for the team. Well played.

Furthermore, the Doug Mientkiewicz signing is apparently imminent. I know a lot of people who are not going to take this well, but I've gotta say, I'm not against it -- it sounds like a one-year deal, not all that expensive; this is just a stop-gap until they can trade for or sign someone better. Hitting in a platoon might help both him and Andy Phillips (or Josh Phelps; I'm just going to refer to them both as Andy Phelps until one of them's named the starter), and I think the team's got enough offense to carry them, even if first base is the last place you want a slugging void.

Sounds like he may be a bit of a hothead; when he played for the Mets, he left town in a huff and feuding with management over his playing time. Metstrodamus (link via MetsBlog) has a fun collection of quotes from his time at Shea. My personal favorite:

"...Would I like to be in there every day? Yeah, of course. Everybody would. But that’s why it’s called a team and not the New York Mientkiewiczs."

I'd buy that team's t-shirt.

Finally, Twins fans, say hello to your replacement for Francisco Liriano: Sir Sidney Ponson! I'm so sorry.

"Humbert-Oh! Humbert-Oh!," For Example

Adios, Sheff. I already miss the dysfunction. Sheffield is 38 and coming off a rough wrist injury, but does anybody doubt he'll hit the crap out of the ball for Detroit next year? Still, there's nothing wrong with an outfield involving Damon/Matsui/Abreu/Melky, and the Yankees need young pitching more than anything. If just one of the three prospects they traded for ends up as a solid #2 or even #3 starting pitcher, this will have been another shrewd Cashman trade. Humberto Sanchez, Kevin Whelan and Anthony Claggett: good baseball names all. If Sanchez makes it, do we get to see the Post making Lolita puns on the back page? I can dream.

And I was about to post the following graph when I saw the news about Jaret Wright:

“And now, apparently, the Yanks are about to wash their hands of Jaret Wright. I’m torn about this: he was disappointing and often incredibly frustrating to watch, but he had these flashes of talent and grit that made me think he could be worth holding onto. And getting traded to a division rival is sort of insulting – not to mention possibly unwise, since Baltimore, though fairly miserable last year, has a ton of promising young pitchers and a solid offense. Depends on who they get for him, of course.”

The answer? Chris Britton, a young right-handed reliever with good but unspectacular stats last season, who looks… how to put this… like the love child of Sir Sidney Ponson and... oh, I don't know. He's portly, okay? But he was fairly effective last year, so I’ll reserve judgment. I know the Yanks made the deal because they would have had to buy out Wright’s $7 million contract for $4 million anyway just to release him, but poor Jaret Wright: he got traded to a division rival for a reliever. Ouch. Great deal for the Orioles, though.

Still no news on Matsuzaka, but rumors are flying – the Seibu Lions are taking their time announcing the winning bidder. Supposedly the Red Sox may have won out with a massive bid of around $38 million (again – that’s just to negotiate), but it's not confirmed. I wouldn't have been terribly worried about this yesterday, but today I saw that Baseball Prospectus attempted to translate his numbers from Japan, and concluded that he could produce stats in America similar to Roger Clemens, of all people. Oh, and also comparable? Roy Halladay, Brandon Webb, Chris Carpenter, Jason Schmidt, Josh Beckett, Pedro Martinez, Jake Peavy and Tim Hudson. Umm.... AIIIIIIEEEEEEE!

Finally, good luck to Bubba Crosby, who has signed with the Reds. He’s like David Eckstein... except he's a little taller... and can't hit. But, you know, otherwise. I'll always remember him for the great walk-off homer he hit against the Orioles down the stretch in 2005 -- you could see him struggling between sheer joy and utter disbelief all the way around the bases.

Oh -- and the Mets might name their new stadium “CitiField”?! Ugh! Don't do it, Wilpons. William Alfred Shea is turning in his grave.

The Horror, the Horror (Also, the Royals)

The Yankees had a nice easy win yesterday; as much as I like the Twins, they seem to be skidding, and if they don't get Liriano back in the very near future, I fear for their playoff chances. Darrell Rasner pitched an excellent game in his first Yankee start, but this has been happening a lot recently -- unknown, lousy, or aging pitchers often throw like aces in their Yankee debuts; I give you Brad Halsey, Al Leiter, Sidney Ponson, and Aaron Small, just off the top of my head, but I know there've been many more. I hereby dub this The Ponson Effect. Meanwhile, the third baseman... yeah, he's back.

The Mets yesterday managed to lose, 2-1, a game in which they only allowed the Astros one hit. Ah, I do miss El Duque. They'll take on the Braves tonight, and though they’ve already proven they can beat them this year, it’s still fascinating to watch a team exorcise its demons on live television. That game promises to hold more interest than tonight’s Yanks-Royals match-up, however fun it is to watch Chien-Ming Wang pitch. The problem with the Royals is that when a good team beats them, it’s unimpressive, while if they lose it’s embarrassing (well, okay -- that’s one of the problems with the Royals). They did just take two of three from the Twins and White Sox, however, so at least we can expect them to put up a fight.

I’ll be on vacation tomorrow through Sunday, September 10th – into the heart of darkness, or at least Red Sox territory, on Cape Cod. I will blog as my sporadic access to wifi allows. In previous years I wore Yankees shirts to the beach just to be difficult, but this month the combination of the Sox falling nine games behind, Ortiz’s heart scare, and, most of all, rookie pitcher John Lester’s awful diagnosis of lymphoma (fortunately a treatable form, it sounds like) have sucked all the fun out of the rivalry. Horribly selfish of them, really.

Meanwhile, here’s one more reason to dislike Kenny Lofton, his relatively poor performance for the Yankees aside: I was flipping past the YES network this afternoon, and caught the tail end of Jim Abbott’s 1993 no-hitter against the Indians. This is a game that, if you try to describe it to people who weren’t following baseball at the time, they will absolutely refuse to believe it really happened. Anyway, I tuned in at the beginning of the ninth inning, in which Lofton led off -- and tried to bunt his way on base. Now, I understand that he was just trying do his job and get his team some baserunners, especially since it was still a close game... and I can respect that, I really can… but, dude. The man has one hand. Swing the fucking bat.

Mustache Watch ’06: While I missed most of yesterday’s game, I’m told that Craig Wilson seems to have shaved as well (many thanks to my loyal readers, on whom I rely for these kinds of hot tips). The tide seems to be turning, though Jason Giambi still stands like a rock. Please don't hesitate to shoot me an email, or post a comment, if there are any new developments in my absence.

Talk About Impaired Judgement... Where Are That Girl's Friends?!

These games with the Twins were supposed to be another possible playoff preview, but it hasn’t quite worked out that way; Cory Lidle against Carlos Silva last night was probably the marquee pitching match-up of the weekend. Today’s game featured Scott Baker and Jeff Karstens, and while Karstens seems like a promising young pitcher, if you see him starting a game in the postseason it will mean that something has gone horribly wrong. He actually pitched extremely well, but Baker, with his 6.55 ERA and 3-7 record, temporarily morphed into Walter Johnson (nifty trick, that), and the Yanks lost the rain-shortened game 6-1.

Jim Kaat and Al Leiter are the best announcing team the Yankees have fielded for a while, both smart (about baseball, anyway), reasonable, and affable. When Leiter’s in the booth, I can’t help remembering that classic photo of him apparently playing beer pong with a bunch of random college kids, originally posted on the sleazy yet enticing gossip site On the DL -- though of course, it only makes me like him more. Stars: they’re just like Us!

Unfortunately, while trying to find that link, I inadvertently stumbled onto this decidedly disconcerting picture of our old friend Sir Sidney Ponson, which is forcing me to seriously consider swearing off alcohol forever.

Meanwhile, In a battle of ineffective ex-Yankee pitchers, Jeff Weaver took on Shawn Chacon in today’s Cardinals-Pirates game. I was about to make a snarky comment about how, according to the rules, one team would nevertheless have to win, but I see the final score was 1-0 Pittsburgh. Well, fine. Never mind then.

Mustache Watch ‘06: One mustache falls, and another rises to take its place. Ron Villone’s lip-caterpillar is no more (perhaps when he got back from the Yankees’ recent road trip he had a little chat with his wife). Bullpen newcomer Brian Bruney’s, however, is coming along nicely.

Exactly As I Predicted!

Okay, not at all. I’m confused. Cheerful, but confused.

The last three games were basically a perfect storm, in which Red Sox pitching had a no-hold-barred meltdown just as the Yankees offense finally started firing on all cylinders, but it can't last -- the Red Sox aren’t this bad, and I'm afraid the Yankees aren’t this good. As awesome as their hitters have been the last two days, I can’t quite forget that they were absolutely crushed by the Baltimore Orioles’ worst pitchers earlier this week. Anyway, show me the offense that won’t do some serious damage when you give them thirteen walks in a single game. Yankee pitching hasn’t been much to brag about this series, either, and while 20 runs allowed in three games is obviously preferably to 39, these games have not been pretty.

Now, they played three long, exhausting games in about 30 hours, so you can’t really blame them, but when Posada hit his three-run triple to make the score 10-5, it seemed to me that you could palpably feel the Sox players giving up on the game. Again, after 4 hours of sleep and way too much Manny Delcarmen, most of us would do the same, but what remains to be seen is if that spirit will carry over into the rest of the series. I don’t expect that to happen – I hate Curt Schilling with a fiery passion, but this is just the kind of situation he lives for, so you know he’s going to show up. And if the Sox take the next two, they’re just 2.5 games back and still right in the race; even if they only win one, they’re a long way from done. (They're not done if they're swept either, but "a long way from it" would probably be pushing it).

There are some insane stats from the last three games. First of all, apparently, Johnny Damon goes to 11. I was already totally sold on the guy, but this was just sick: 9 for 18, including three doubles, two home runs, a triple, and 8 RBIs. I think you’ve made your point, Johnny. Meanwhile, Bobby Abreu, who seems to have taken roughly 20 seconds to fit in, has been on base 12 of 18 times. Robinson Cano has 10 RBIs (and that guy I can’t talk about anymore this season isn’t doing badly either).

Finally, the Yankees seem to have gotten over their case of Sidney Ponson (antibiotics will usually clear that right up).

Should be a good game tonight, with Mussina going against Schilling and everyone getting some sleep - including, let's all hope, the ESPN announcers. Time to do some pre-game exercises and get my muting finger loose and ready to go.

Tell Your God To Ready For Blood

During the recent insane heat wave, city officials urged people to rest, avoid unnecessary exertion, drink water, and seek medical attention if they had trouble breathing, chest pains, or dizziness and confusion. I think the same warnings should also be applied to Yankees and Red Sox fans this weekend, particularly those with a history of cardiac or respiratory problems. In addition, I urge younger, healthy fans to check in periodically on their older and more infirm neighbors and acquaintances. At times like this we all have to help each other.

The only part of the heat wave advice that doesn't apply is here is that people should avoid alcoholic beverages, which can be dehydrating. On the contrary, in this situation a stiff drink is definitely called for. Starting at lunch today. The best thing Yankees fans can do for themselves now is dull the pain, make everything a blur, and wake up somewhere unexpected Tuesday morning, when it's all over.

When our ancient ancestors climbed out of the primordial ooze and checked the baseball schedule, it was already obvious that this was going to be a huge series. Having had the dubious pleasure of watching yesterday's terrifically ugly loss to the Orioles, about which the less said the better, I can't say I have a lot of confidence at the moment; but once my eyes stopped bleeding I reminded myself that every team has some rough patches and the occasional horrific game, and momentum can turn in one inning. Actually, it's hard to say whether Red Sox or Yankees fans are more down on their team these days -- but hey, even when the Royals play the Pirates, somebody has to win.

I'll be listening to the first game at work, via the radio, but I'll miss at least the first part of tonight's game because, strangely enough, I have to go see Snakes on a Plane for work. But for those of you who will be watching, drink lots of water, wear light loose-fitting clothing, and consult your doctor if you experience feelings of weakness, confusion, or nausea. Or just turn off the TV until Sidney Ponson is out of the game.

I Love the Smell of Desperation in the Morning

Ummm. The Yankees do need a fifth starter, but... this? Sidney Ponson is a knight in his native Aruba, a drunk driver in the United States, and an inept pitcher everywhere. You also don't want to run into him on the beach, apparently, especially if you're a judge. You've got to feel for Shawn Chacon, who is being replaced by a walking punch line, but Randy Johnson is probably relieved to no longer be the least likable guy on the team.