Years ago a movie was made about football players who replaced Dallas Cowboy players during a strike or something. I think Keanu Reeves played QB?
Anyhow, the New York Yankees are hurting. Their best relief pitcher is 67 years old and coming off a leg injury. Derek (I'm so beautiful) Jeter is 38 and may not start opening day because his ankle isn't fully healed. They have no catcher worthy of naming. A-Rod (never saw a PED I didn't like) will be out until summer, Texiera injured and out till June, pitcher Pettitte (maybe I'm retired, maybe not) is ancient and Sabathia is signing up for the Biggest Loser weight loss show. Speedy Gardner is just coming back from a year long injury... and the woes go on throughout the lineup.
Sals is coming to the rescue. That's right! Here's the lineup;
Right Field - Eileen "nothing gets by me" W.
Center Field - Al "they call me Sunshine"
Left Field - Mike "all thumbs" McCullough
First Base - Jan "Glove Like Glue" McCullough
Second Base - Lou "Quiz Master" Katz
Shortstop - Rick "I'm Retiring and You're not" Merritt
Third Base - Frank "strongarm" Q.
Catcher - Pete "Barefoot" Leonard (making baseball history, only barefoot catcher ever!)
Ace Pitcher - Mike "I still got the heat, baby" W.
Really, I don't think this is much of a downgrade from what the Yankees will have in their starting lineup.
The Erie Canal, Running Paradise
Showing posts with label New York Yankees. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New York Yankees. Show all posts
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Monday, October 15, 2012
A-Rod at Bat
The Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Yankee nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
And then when Jeter’s ankle broke, and Texiera still is lame,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.
A depressed Lou got up to go in deep despair. Mike and Eileen
clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only A-Rod could get but a whack at that -
We'd put up even money, now, with A-Rod at the bat.
But Nix preceded A-Rod, as did also Granderson,
And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of A-Rod getting to the bat.
But Nix let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Grandy, the much loved, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred,
There was Grandy safe at second and Nix a-hugging third.
Then from 35,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the city, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the subway and recoiled upon the flat,
For A-Rod, mighty A-Rod, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in A-Rod’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in A-Rod’s bearing and a smile on A-Rod’s face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly spit a seed,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas A-Rod at the bat.
Seventy thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the Detroit pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in A-Rod's eye, a sneer curled A-Rod's lip.
And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And A-Rod stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped-
"That ain't my style," said A-Rod. "Strike one," the umpire said.
From the bleachers, filled with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted Jan from the couch;
And its likely they'd a-killed him had not A-Rod raised his hand.
With a smile of Christian charity great A-Rod's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But A-Rod still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."
"Fraud!" cried the Weinpresses, squeezing Molly tight,
But one scornful look from A-Rod and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that A-Rod wouldn't let that ball go by again.
The sneer is gone from A-Rod's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of A-Rod's blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in New York - mighty A-Rod has struck out.
Casey at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence Thayer © Modified somewhat by M. McCullough 2012.
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
And then when Jeter’s ankle broke, and Texiera still is lame,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.
A depressed Lou got up to go in deep despair. Mike and Eileen
clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only A-Rod could get but a whack at that -
We'd put up even money, now, with A-Rod at the bat.
But Nix preceded A-Rod, as did also Granderson,
And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of A-Rod getting to the bat.
But Nix let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Grandy, the much loved, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred,
There was Grandy safe at second and Nix a-hugging third.
Then from 35,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the city, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the subway and recoiled upon the flat,
For A-Rod, mighty A-Rod, was advancing to the bat.
There was ease in A-Rod’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in A-Rod’s bearing and a smile on A-Rod’s face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly spit a seed,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas A-Rod at the bat.
Seventy thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the Detroit pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in A-Rod's eye, a sneer curled A-Rod's lip.
And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And A-Rod stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped-
"That ain't my style," said A-Rod. "Strike one," the umpire said.
From the bleachers, filled with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted Jan from the couch;
And its likely they'd a-killed him had not A-Rod raised his hand.
With a smile of Christian charity great A-Rod's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But A-Rod still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."
"Fraud!" cried the Weinpresses, squeezing Molly tight,
But one scornful look from A-Rod and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that A-Rod wouldn't let that ball go by again.
The sneer is gone from A-Rod's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of A-Rod's blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in New York - mighty A-Rod has struck out.
Casey at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence Thayer © Modified somewhat by M. McCullough 2012.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
New York Yankees
I have seen many New York Yankee innings this year. If you own a television with cable access it's difficult not to watch the Yankees. They have their own channel, YES, and if not televised there will be on ABC or ESPN, or FOX or an affiliate of one of those stations. Here are a few observations I've made about the team recently;
Ten Things about the Yankees;
1. Swisher needs to start getting hits!
2. I want to be the bubble gum supplier for them
3. OR the sunflower seeds supplier?
4. Never make me the dugout janitor
5. They need to find a starting pitcher who can last more than 5 innings…because
6. ...Their bullpen is average
7. Can A-rod possibly jam anything more in his mouth?
8. Why doesn’t A-rod ever swing at the first pitch? Ever.
9. Is Jeter juiced? If Yanks make playoffs he is league MVP.
10. Ichiro could be a world class sprinter.
Ten Things about the Yankees;
1. Swisher needs to start getting hits!
2. I want to be the bubble gum supplier for them
3. OR the sunflower seeds supplier?
4. Never make me the dugout janitor
5. They need to find a starting pitcher who can last more than 5 innings…because
6. ...Their bullpen is average
7. Can A-rod possibly jam anything more in his mouth?
8. Why doesn’t A-rod ever swing at the first pitch? Ever.
9. Is Jeter juiced? If Yanks make playoffs he is league MVP.
10. Ichiro could be a world class sprinter.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Mindless Ramblings
Predictions:
An American male will not win Boston this year (big surprise, though Ryan and Meb will make a race out of it and finish in the top ten).
A male Kenyan (Elijah Keitany-pr 2:06) will win. I just like the name Elijah.
Madai Perez (pr 2:22) will win the female division. There are no elite American women racing.
New Roger will win the Sals division, followed closely by LanceIlovehelicopters, Mike May and Andy.
Congratulations to: "Joan Benoit Samuelson, 52, the 1984 Olympic marathon gold medalist, ran 60:52 to finish 18th in her first Cherry Blossom race. She beat all 40-year-olds and set a U.S. age-group record for 10 miles, shattering the mark of 62:01 set by S. Rae Baymiller in 1994." Washington Post. Jan and I ran the the Cherry Blossom race two years ago. It is a great race.
Why do the rudest drivers on I490 have large NY Yankee stickers on their SUV's?
An American male will not win Boston this year (big surprise, though Ryan and Meb will make a race out of it and finish in the top ten).
A male Kenyan (Elijah Keitany-pr 2:06) will win. I just like the name Elijah.
Madai Perez (pr 2:22) will win the female division. There are no elite American women racing.
New Roger will win the Sals division, followed closely by LanceIlovehelicopters, Mike May and Andy.
Congratulations to: "Joan Benoit Samuelson, 52, the 1984 Olympic marathon gold medalist, ran 60:52 to finish 18th in her first Cherry Blossom race. She beat all 40-year-olds and set a U.S. age-group record for 10 miles, shattering the mark of 62:01 set by S. Rae Baymiller in 1994." Washington Post. Jan and I ran the the Cherry Blossom race two years ago. It is a great race.
Why do the rudest drivers on I490 have large NY Yankee stickers on their SUV's?
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