As a baseball fan, dedicated scribe, and follower of the great voices of the game, I am overwhelmed that Section 422 has a legendary resident in its Miller Park counterpart, the new statue of Bob Uecker. It is a fitting addition to what are known as "The Uecker Seats" in Milwaukee. While this blog almost exclusively reports on Yankees matters, I seldom pass an opportunity to comment on those who have taken a irreplaceable role in building the game. Broadcasters are one of the pillars of baseball for that reason, they paint the scene onto the canvas of our minds. To that end, Uecker is joined by a select few.
Aside from Uecker being a living legend for his work in the Milwaukee Brewers radio booth, he is Johnny Carson's "Mr. Baseball" as a frequent guest on Carson's Tonight Show. Though for me, he IS Harry Doyle from Major League. A role that showcases the perfect blend of sarcasm, satire, and hilarious passive aggressive commentary only he could deliver.
In the master class of baseball broadcasters, that include the likes of Vin Scully, Red Barber, Mel Allen, Jack Buck, Bob Wolff, and Ernie Harwell (not including a host of well deserving others), Uecker is the master class clown. He is a gentleman who's natural wit and style has the ability to bring levity to a sport that often takes itself far too seriously. Yet despite the humor, he maintains an incredible underlying dignity in his portrayal of the game, and in himself. For that, he is a well celebrated aberration.
Thank you, Mr. Uecker. See you in Section 422.
(Photo courtesy of kgmi.com)
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In life, and baseball, discretion is always the better part of valor. In the case of Michael Pineda, his crime was a lack of discretion. At Fenway Park on Wednesday night, it was almost impossible to believe there was another blotch of pine tar on Michael Pineda, this time on his neck. It's placement was daring, begging the Red Sox to call him out for his attempt to improve his grip on the baseball, despite the age old "unwritten rules" that keep teams from blowing the whistle on each other for accepted gamesmanship.
It was clear that Red Sox manager John Farrell was left without a choice. After Pineda's first performance against Boston on Sunday Night Baseball, with the Yankee Stadium lights, and ESPN cameras gleaming off the pine tar on his right wrist, there was no way Boston could have allowed Pineda to continue unchallenged. If Farrell had not acted, the Red Sox would have faced glaring questions about their competency, if they had not intervened for a second time. The decision to act was not a matter of rivalry, nor a matter of competitive balance, but recourse for disregarding the common baseball courtesy of not placing your opponent in the unnecessary position of facing questions about being asleep at the wheel, for allowing their opponents infraction. Boston is a sports town that is notorious for grilling their teams for even the slightest mishap, and Pineda's sticky neck simply could not be tolerated. Not twice.
The Yankees for their part had their organizational party line well underway during the YES broadcast mid-game studio break. Jack Curry deemed that Pineda had been caught at the "cookie jar" for a second time, a klaxon call that signaled there would be no damage control for Pineda's faux pax. Yankees GM Brian Cashman wanted nothing to do with covering his pitchers lack of discretion, and nor did Girardi. Each had done their part dancing around the first incident 10 days prior. The Yankees were embarrassed, and Pineda alone would answer for his misdeed.
It is no great secret that professional baseball is governed by a host of unwritten rules that allow the game to control itself through unofficial channels. The first of those edicts is the use of discretion. If a pitcher is looking to improve their grip on the baseball during a cold night, keep the pine tar out of sight. Hide it in the glove, deep under the bill of the cap, or discreetly on the belt, but do not make the effort obvious to millions of viewers. Pineda did not just violate that commandment, he commenced with the subtlety of P.T. Barnum.
In the end, the incident will have little impact on the game itself. Pitchers and hitters alike are seeking every advantage, and baseball will largely leave it to the clubs to keep each other in check. Though there is little question that Michael Pineda's true punishment is not his 10 day league suspension. It is the year long chore of fielding every obligatory question about pine tar after every start, and no longer being given the benefit of the doubt. A harsher lesson than most for a lack of valor.
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New York sports radio demigod WFAN
earlier today took it upon itself to stoke the fires of one of the
most outmoded debates in local sports: Is New York REALLY an American
League or National League town? For the un-indoctrinated, this debate
emanates from the 1950's, when New York was at its baseball height,
with the Giants, Dodgers, and Yankees dominating the game. It was not
unusual at that time to believe that given the prevalence of two
National League clubs, and the infamous rivalry between the Dodgers
and Giants, that New York was in fact a National League town at that
time. Though to examine the reality of this debate, its important to
have a brief history lesson.
Despite baseball being the personal
possession of New York during the 1950's, the 1950's themselves were
the undisputed property of the New York Yankees. In that ten year
period, the Yankees won 9 American League Pennants, and 7 World
Series titles, including five in a row. At the end of 1957, the
Dodgers and Giants moved to Los Angeles, and San Francisco,
respectively. A devastating ending to one of the greatest periods in
baseball history. Many of the former Giants and Dodgers fans did not
follow their original teams once they relocated, and many eventually
became Mets fans upon their inception in 1962.
When all three of these teams shared
the same city, the role of the clubs themselves were dramatically
different than what we have come to expect today. The players
themselves were pillars of the communities they played for. Despite
being paid more than the average American of the day, almost every
ballplayer took up off-season employment in the area. They would
genuinely interact with the fans that packed their stadiums, and the
teams themselves were for all purposes living embodiments of their
corner of New York. Players are no longer prominent members of the
communities in which they play. The players, despite having their
most dedicating following occur on a regional basis, are major
figures of the free world. The days of Willie Mays playing stick-ball
with the neighborhood kids in upper Manhattan are long since
past, and Yogi Berra is no longer selling suit's. Those qualities
undoubtedly created bonds between borough and team that simply no
longer exist. Players today are as real to the average New Yorker as
their image on Wheaties boxes.
In addition to the teams no longer
having the relationship they once did with their cities, Major League
Baseball has done everything in its power to make each league
androgynous, specifically with the rise of inter-league play on a
season long basis. MLB has taken almost every conceivable step to
stream line all of their league operations, creating a unified
shield, nearly to the point of the American and National League's
lacking all identity. With the exception of the designated hitter,
the two leagues are indistinguishable, and modern fans have no
problem with this. In fact, most fans under 40 would not be able to
tell you which league was synonymous with the high strike zone.
As for the preservation of history
itself, the last of the great baseball cathedrals in New York were
washed away with the piece by piece auction of the original Yankee
Stadium. Coogan's Bluff and Flatbush are a housing project, and an
overpriced/gentrified piece of real estate. That is what remains of
New York's golden age of baseball, and the physical pieces of history
that made this debate relevant at the time.
While it may be fun to argue about
whether New York is really an American or National League town, it is
undeniable that baseball itself has made the distinction irrelevant,
because each league is essentially identical. Modern baseball fans no
longer think in those terms, including New Yorkers. Why would they?
The modern fan wants complete digital access to all Major League
Baseball content, instant replay technology that rivals Cheyenne
Mountain, a unified strike zone, and more food and beverage options
than a U.N. luncheon. Most importantly, modern fans want access to
the game at any time, in any place in the world. People that have
never broached the western hemisphere are wearing interlocking NY
hats, Yasiel Puig jersey's, and pink Buster Posey t-shirts on every
continent. You can guarantee that Major League Baseball will do
whatever is necessary to cater to the growing global appetite for the
game. A game that is a unified product, and where all 30 teams draw
fans from every corner of the earth. One game, one league. Whether
New York is an American or National League town is a debate that
rightly belongs in the annals of baseball history, but has no place
in baseball modernity.
(2014 and beyond...)
*Photo's courtesy of New York City MTA, and Magellan Graphix Santa Barbarra, CA 1994.
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Instead of adding another tirade about the Yankees performance on Opening Day, I am going to document a few notable social media overreactions to game one.
CC = Nixon? Mind blown.
Just because.
It's good to see some things never change.
Everyone's favorite minor celebrity.
"Generosity is its own form of power."
How he handled being Randy Johnson's personal catcher, I will never know.
In other news, the Yankees play another 161 games this season.
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In the summer of 2010, the Yankees off
their 27th World Series title came within a hair of
acquiring Cliff Lee from the Seattle Mariners. The deal did not
materialize between the Yankees and the Mariners. The reason was
Brian Cashman's refusal to part without Eduardo Nunez. It was
believed at that time that Nunez would eventually be the shortstop
that replaced Derek Jeter. Overlooking the fact that Derek Jeter
cannot be truly replaced, it was
believed that Nunez could have been that player. In the time since that
deal fell-through, Nunez has continually disappointed on both sides
of the baseball. In addition to his near ineptitude as a defender on
the left side of the infield, his vaunted bat never truly
materialized. He showed inadequate power, and a true deficiency in
his ability to get on base. Though the most damning of his time in
the big-leagues came in 2013, when Jeter was almost entirely on the
DL. Nunez had the opportunity to show his talents on a full-time
basis, at his natural position of shortstop, and the Yankees found
themselves having to acquire Brendan Ryan after September 1st.
It was then that no one could possibly have considered Nunez a
realistic alternative for any of the Yankees future plans.
2011, and 2013 were Nunez's largest
statistical samples in both games and plate appearances:
Nunez's lack of performance was not due
to any lack of support on the part of the Yankees. From the time they
walked away from the table with Seattle, to when it was extremely
clear that Derek Jeter's 2013 season was a wash, they gave Nunez
every opportunity to cement the job. Yet at each turn, Nunez fell
well short. Even as Nunez was thought to be a sure fire piece going
into spring training 2014, on a Yankees team that desperately needs
depth on the left side of the infield, he was designated for
assignment so that Yangervis Solarte could be placed on the 40 man
roster.
In its own way, the move is a relief.
The Yankees have been trying to make the situation with Nunez work
for so long, and have failed so miserably, it is a comfort to know
they have finally moved on and cut their losses. It would make any
person familiar with the situation dumbfounded if he maintained his
status with Solarte hitting .500 for most of the spring.
It is clear that replacing Jeter at
short would be no simple task, even if Nunez had been fully
competent. It is now clear that whoever the soul is that has to
follow Jeter, no one currently has a clue as to who that might
be. No doubt making a very difficult transition far more painful.
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