Last night, manager Joe Girardi put close to $40 million worth of talent on the bench in the hopes of sparking a lineup with names like Brett Gardner, Eric Chavez, and Eduardo Nunez. Eventually, the lineup did put together good at-bats, but it happened about eight innings too late, and the Bombers are now forced to win four in a row.
And honestly, how much of a chance do they really have? Right now, the situation is dismal.
Yes, the glaring problem on the field is the offense. Up until that ninth inning, the Yankees managed two hits off of Justin Verlander, who was pitching a mediocre game by his lofty standards. Those only two hits came from Ichiro Suzuki, a man who wasn’t on the Yankees’ Opening Day roster.
But the real problem? Intensity. The players act calm. Way too calm. Which is why they should let Paul O’Neill back in the dugout to smash a few coolers around and get the dugout fired up.
Everything changes in the postseason.
The 2012 New York Yankees set a regular season franchise record for home runs, barely beating out a 2009 campaign which saw them end with a World Series crown. That year, however, A-Rod was on a tear in October, and the supporting cast was holding up its end of the deal.
This year, everything’s changed. The new star, Robinson Cano, has not gotten a hit in 26 at-bats. A-Rod and Granderson are competing for the title of “Postseason Strikeout King.” Nick Swisher is cementing his case for not being a Yankee in 2013.
The captain is out with a broken ankle, the Bombers are down 2-0, and they have to enter Comerica Park tonight and face Justin Verlander. The chances of making a comeback are slim at best, but some lineup changes might help spark the club.
Here are my suggestions for what the Yankee lineup should look like for Game 3 of the ALCS.
This is a red state.
Woah, wait, hold on.
That’s not what I mean.
Strip away all the political, ideological and literal connotations of that phrase, and it’ll be obvious Missouri is red, at least when it comes to sports with bats and balls and peanuts and Cracker Jacks.
Cardinal fans are a proud bunch, and they should be. St. Louis has played host to many of baseball’s great moments and has housed dozens of its legends. From sure things like Stan the Man and the king whose name we now dare not speak of, to diamonds in the rough like Lou Brock, the word “Cardinals” — at least, when excluding those pesky footballers in the great Southwest — has been synonymous with good fortune.
Eleven world championships. Thirty-nine Hall of Famers. Even when they’re two runs down and a strike away against 97 mph and a hook in late October, things seem to work out. You guys don’t know just how good you have it.
The 2013 MLB schedule was released yesterday, and it is unlike any other in baseball history. Thanks to an overdue realignment, there is an odd number of teams in each league, which means two things:
1) The Houston Astros might lose 150 games next year.
2) Interleague play will happen on just about every day of the season.
On top of that, matchups such as the Subway Series are reduced from six to four games to make the schedules more balanced. Every team now has the same basic schedule thanks to an equal five teams in each of the six divisions.
One thing hasn’t changed, however, and that’s the intrigue of National League teams playing the American League during the regular season. Let’s check out the more intriguing matchups on tap for the 2013 season.
This column was originally posted on Sept. 11, 2012 on www.themaneater.com for The Maneater, the University of Missouri student newspaper.
I was 9 years old in September 2001, too young to fully comprehend the magnitude of the smoke surrounding what were my hometown’s largest buildings, suffocating my city in hate.
I was too naive to process falling towers, too sheltered to see footage of The Falling Man spiraling from the sky. We lived across the harbor on Staten Island. When my dad, who worked right there on Vesey Street, told us he made the last boat home, and that people were jumping off it, I was too disconnected to recognize the hell he’d seen.
Major League Baseball was canceled that night, which is what I remember being angry about. It was canceled the next night, too, and the night after that, and the night after that. Instead of taking to the sofa to watch the Mets, my family congregated for Peter Jennings, who provided marathon updates about how our world was falling apart. The more he spoke, the more terrified I became. Every night that week, I went to sleep worrying Osama Bin Laden was going to sneak through the window and woke up wondering when baseball would return.