The All-Yankees-Who-Never-Won-A-World Series Team

I've been working on the next entry in my All-Time Teams series for quite some time now. Actually, "working off and on" would be more accurate than "working on." Of course, since the last entry was the New York Mets, it should be pretty obvious who's up next.

However, at least partly inspired by Replacement Level's recent naming of The All-Never-Won-A-World Series Team, I'm going to allow myself to be sidetracked a little here.

This wasn't an easy exercise as it's pretty difficult finding significant Yankees who never won a World Series with the team. In fact, because of this, I decided not to hem and haw over the reserves and just go with a starting lineup, five-man rotation and relief pitcher.

Not surprisingly, the lineup is dominated by players from the deadball era, the pre-Steinbrenner years and the early-'80s to mid-'90s drought.

C - Mike Stanley
Stanley provided the Yankees with some good offense (134 OPS+) in a mostly full-time capacity from 1992-1995, but was let walk as a free agent, in favor of Joe Girardi, prior to their first World Series of the Jeter era. In August of 1997, the Red Sox traded him back to the Yankees, and he played a part-time role on their only late-'90s team that didn't win the World Series.

1B - Don Mattingly
Easily the most celebrated Yankee who never won a World Series, Mattingly also earned the most WAR for the franchise among players who fit the distinction. Of course, everyone knows Donnie Baseball played in his first postseason in 1995 and then retired fairly young, missing out on the 1996 celebration. He probably has a World Series ring earned during his time as a spring training hitting instructor, but otherwise his coaching and managing career has been similarly frustrating in terms of World Series victories. He became hitting coach in 2004 and left just prior to the 2008 season.

2B - Jimmy Williams
Williams was the franchise's original second baseman and served as the starter at the position from 1901-1907, providing good offense (116 OPS+) and solid overall play (20.7 WAR). He's also the only position player on this roster who played for the team before they were called the Yankees (1901-02: Baltimore Orioles, 1903-07: New York Highlanders).

SS - Roger Peckinpaugh
Peckinpaugh joined the team the year they became known as the Yankees (1913) and was a fixture at shortstop for most of that year and the eight seasons that followed. He played in the franchise's first World Series appearance, in which they lost 5-games-to-3 to the New York Giants in 1921. Following that season, he was part of a blockbuster deal between the Yankees and the Red Sox—Rip Collins, Jack Quinn, Bill Piercy and Peckinpaugh for Bullet Joe Bush, Sad Sam Jones and Everett Scott—but was subsequently traded to Washington three weeks later. In 1924, he was a member of the Senators' first and only World Series winning team.

3B - Home Run Baker
He had his best seasons with the Philadelphia Athletics—who won it all in 1910, 1911 and 1913 while he was there—before being sold to the Yankees following a contract dispute over which he sat out the entire 1915 season. Like Peckinpaugh, he played on the World Series losing team of 1921. Unlike Peckinpaugh, he was also a member of the World Series losing team of 1922, his final major league season.

LF - Rickey Henderson
Henderson actually played more games in center—and reasonably well—for the Yankees than in left, but the latter always seemed like his natural position. The mid-to-late '80s weren't as bad as most people remember, with 1989 being the only year they won less than 85 games. In fact, in Rickey's first and best year in pinstripes (1985), the Yankees won 97 games, but finished two behind the Blue Jays. Henderson played in 60 postseason games—and won World Series in Oakland and Toronto—in his career, but none of them were with the Yankees.

CF - Bobby Murcer
Getting back to our hard-luck stories, Murcer was with the Yankees from 1965-1974 and 1979-1983. You probably know what happened in the intervening four years...three trips to the World Series, two of them victorious. He never quite lived up to expectations (i.e. Mickey Mantle comparisons), but he enjoyed a fine career nonetheless.

RF - Dave Winfield
Little did anyone know when Winfield was dubbed "Mr. May" by George Steinbrenner following a 1-for-22 performance in the 1981 World Series loss to the Dodgers, it would turn out to be his last postseason appearance in pinstripes. He would, however, go on to deliver the game-winning hit in the Blue Jays' 1992 World Series clinching Game 6 victory.

DH - Jason Giambi
Giambi was on the 2003 team that lost the World Series to the Marlins, and I have to admit I didn't remember that he didn't play at all in the 2004 postseason. Judging by his seasons stats, he was injured and/or deemed ineffective when healthy, and I certainly recall watching Tony Clark and John Olerud play, but the Giambi circumstances aren't coming back to me.

RHP - Mike Mussina
Mussina, of course, began his Yankee years on the 2001 team that lost in seven games to the Diamondbacks, then retired following the first 20-win season of his career (2008). He surely could have been an integral part of the 2009 championship team, especially considering they tested the nerves of Yankees fans by getting through the entire postseason with a three-man rotation that included A.J. Burnett.

LHP - Tommy John
TJ's timing wasn't so great either, as he pitched for the Dodgers during their 1977 and 1978 World Series losses to the Yankees, then switched sides to be a member of the 1981 team that lost to the Dodgers. Those three losses would be the extent of John's World Series experience despite a 26-year career.

Mel Stottlemyre and deadball era pitchers Jack Chesbro and Russ Ford, all right-handed pitchers who might bump John if they were southpaws, round out the rotation.

RP - Dave Righetti
Rags never had a breakthrough season as a starter, but the decision to move him to the bullpen at age 25 epitomizes the team's mismanagement during the years between the two successful portions of the Steinbrenner era. I'm not saying letting him remain as a starter would've made the difference, but we never got to find out, did we?

Who did I miss?

Good Night, Captain

I headed down the street on the afternoon of August 2, 1979 to hang out with my friends, as I would do pretty much every day during the summer. At this time of year, the primary activity would be a two-on-two game of baseball—or maybe I should call it tennis ball—in the street.

On this particular day, I showed up at the home of my friend Victor, who broke the news to me Thurman Munson had just died in a plane crash. At first, I didn't believe him, for a couple of reasons. For one, he was not a Yankees fan, and secondly, this was the type of joke that was not beneath him to tell. I may have been considered an easy target as well, I'll admit.

I went inside his house to ask his mother and turn on the television. Both sources confirmed the devastating news. This was far from the saddest news I'd ever heard—both my grandmothers died when I was nine—but, as a 12-year old not wanting to cry in front of my friend, I struggled to hold back tears.

Just prior to the 1976 season, Munson was named the first captain of the Yankees since Lou Gehrig retired in 1939. As much as Derek Jeter currently embodies the qualities that make him stand out as one who is truly worthy of the honor, so did Munson. In fact, although a few of my favorite players—Graig Nettles, Willie Randolph, Ron Guidry—also held that role, in my opinion there are only four men in history worthy of the Yankee captaincy: Gehrig, Munson, Jeter and Don Mattingly.

In considering the previous statement, I asked my dad who would have been the most likely candidate to hold such a post between the Gehrig and Munson years. His feeling was either Yogi Berra or Phil Rizzuto would have been the top choices, but neither seemed to possess quite the leadership ability as the aforementioned four.

Until Darryl Kile died of a coronary blockage during the 2002 season, Munson remained the last active player to lose his life during the regular season, so the moving tributes paid to him in the games that followed still stand as indelible memories to me.

On August 3, in the first game following his death, the Yankees starters took the field to begin the game. All of them, except catcher Jerry Narron, that is. Following a prayer, a moment of silence, and Robert Merrill's rendition of "America the Beautiful," the Yankee Stadium crowd burst into a ten-minute standing ovation. Narron remained in the dugout for the entire time, as television cameras focused on his teammates' reactions, and his empty position—or, should I say, the spot vacated by Munson—behind home plate.

Three days later, the entire team attended Munson's funeral in Canton, Ohio, then flew back to New York to play in that night's game. Bobby Murcer, after delivering a eulogy that afternoon, drove in all five runs—including a three-run homer and walk-off two-run single in the 9th—in a 5-4 Yankees victory.

Coming off back-to-back World Series victories, the Yankees' 1979 performance had come back down to earth even prior to Munson's death, although at 58-48 (.547), the season was hardly a lost cause. It may be coincidence the team would have to wait until 1996—Jeter’s rookie season—to climb back atop the baseball world. But, then again, it might not be.

Regardless, 34 years later, Thurman is still deeply missed.

The Flagrant Fan: Portland Sea Dogs and New Friends

The family and I road-tripped it to Portland, Maine this past weekend to take in a Sea Dogs game, but also to meet up with a couple friends from the baseball blogging community.

Normally, I would write a brief post about such an adventure, but my pal William Tasker of The Flagrant Fan did a pretty darn good job of writing about it himself. So, I'll just link to his post here and add a few of my own comments:

The Flagrant Fan: Portland Sea Dogs and new friends

I'll reiterate William's sentiment that Bryan O'Connor, of The Replacement Level Baseball Blog, and his wife were excellent hosts, as were their two kids, who played well with Little Chuck.

Unbeknownst to me prior to the trip, Bryan's sister works for Maine Beer Company, so the visit included my first tastings of Lunch and MO, and both were excellent.

Lunch is their IPA, which is my favorite style, but I actually liked MO, a pale ale, a little better. The upfront citrusy aroma of MO was more dominant, which is actually a quality I love in my favorite IPAs. In fact, I'm prepared to put MO in a category with Dale's as my two favorite pale ales. For now, I'm just throwing Lunch in a category with many other very good IPAs, but not one of my absolute favorites.

Lastly, I want to share a little discussion the three of us had—in one of the rare moments we had to talk baseball rather than chase toddlers—regarding our perspectives as fans of rival teams. Bryan is a Red Sox fan. William and I are Yankees fans.

Bryan talked about why—although he has softened a bit—he can't seem to shake the attitude which is typical of most Red Sox fans towards the Yankees.

When the Yankees were in the midst of their run of three consecutive World Series victories—and four out of five—in the late '90s and early '00s, despite the fact there were plenty of stars on those teams, it was always a Jose Vizcaino or a Luis Sojo (I'll add Jim Leyritz and Chad Curtis) who came up with the big hits.

Fast forward to the Yankees' current season of imminent demise, and it's washed-up players like Vernon Wells and Lyle Overbay who seemed to save their season in the early going. Bryan's point—if I'm interpreting it correctly—is it gives fans of other teams the feeling that, no matter how the Yankees' roster is constructed, they somehow find a way to always be successful.

I can understand how that would be frustrating, even ominous. On the other hand, William commented that this year's Yankees team is one of his least favorite in recent memory to follow. I wondered why, since to me, this season has offered Yankees fans the unique feeling of getting to root for a team that's kind of an underdog. William's response was to point out that he knew it was only a matter of time before the shoe would drop, so to speak.

He was right, of course, but I failed to see it that way. On the other hand, my opinion also points to the fact I went into this season with a somewhat indifferent attitude toward this year's team, in that I knew I wouldn't be terribly upset with an outcome that didn't live up to typical Yankee standards.

I suppose, perhaps, these perspectives provide a little insight that Bryan is on the emotional end of the fan spectrum, William is on the pragmatic end, and I'm somewhere in the middle. Which is just an observation, of course, although it may have something to do with where the three of us fall on the age spectrum as well.

Anyway, I had a fantastic time meeting up with my fellow bloggers this weekend, and I look forward to future occasions of a similar nature.

Replacement Level AL East Preview

For the second year in a row, emigo Bryan O'Connor asked me to contribute to an AL East preview at his Replacement Level Baseball Blog. The format basically consisted of one writer with loyalties to each team answering three two-part questions (so, six actually) about their favorite team.

Honestly, I haven't paid as much attention to the off-season as I usually do, focusing more of my time these last few months on parenting, music-related projects (traditional and new) and obsessing about the Hall of Fame. But, I could have easily followed the Yankees' 2012-2013 off-season happenings out of the corner of my eye and not missed a thing.

So, despite being more interested in history than the current game, I certainly feel qualified to write a brief Yankees preview for the upcoming season. That's what follows in this post, but please also click over to Replacement Level to read the entire piece.


What is the Yankees' ceiling? What has to go right for them to win the AL East?

As always, the Yankees ceiling is a World Series victory, although it seems less likely this year than in years past. Frankly, because of the age of the roster and the loss of a few not insignificant players (Nick Swisher, Russell Martin, Rafael Soriano) who weren't replaced, it's hard to imagine the 2013 Yankees not being a little worse than last year's squad.

That said, a little worse could mean they win 90-92 games and wind up on top of a very competitive division in which the strength of all five teams prevent any one from rising above. Or, it could result in a wild card berth. [Is it just me, or does the phrase "wild card berth" sound more football than baseball?] As we all know, especially fans of the San Francisco Giants, once a team reaches the playoffs, anything can happen.

Pretty much every player on the Yankees is a question mark, either due to age, sub-par performance last year, attempting to come back from injury, or some combination of those factors. The only sure things—to the extent sure things actually exist in today's game—who will fill important roles on the team are CC Sabathia, Robinson Cano and the catching tandem of Chris Stewart/Francisco Cervelli. The latter duo, of course, is only a sure thing relative to very low expectations.

But, realistically speaking, the two most important factors for the Yankees to come out on top of the division are:

1. The ability of an aging pitching staff to reasonably approximate last year's performance, in order to make up for what certainly will be diminished production on the offensive side of the ledger.
2. A resurgent season from either Mark Teixeira or Curtis Granderson, the latter of whom's comeback from a rough second half of 2012 is complicated by the fact he'll miss at least the first month of the season with a broken arm.

What’s the floor for the Yankees this season? What has to go wrong for them to miss the playoffs?

It's inarguable the Yankees are a worse team on paper than last year's model, so I could easily see them finishing third or fourth in an improved AL East this year. I suppose they could even finish last, but I'm guessing the Orioles will return to their rightful place or the Red Sox won't rebound much from last year's disaster.

The Yankees will rely more on pitching than they have since the dynasty years, and two of the pitchers they're counting on the most (Hiroki Kuroda, Andy Pettitte) will be a combined 79 years old by mid-season. A third (Mariano Rivera) is 43 and attempting to rebound from what would have been a career-ending injury to almost any other 42-year old. Add to that the fact they'll pin their hopes on a couple younger pitchers (Phil Hughes, Ivan Nova) who've been far from models of consistency and you can see why some folks are ready to write the team's obituary a little prematurely.


How do you see the division playing out? Is there one team you’re particularly afraid of?

Let's not try to kid ourselves that any team other than the Blue Jays has even a remote chance to win the AL East this year. They're easily as much of a lock to win the division as the Red Sox were in 2011.

If you don't get my point here, what I'm basically trying to say is I have no idea. Prognosticating is kind of a futile endeavor, in my opinion. But hey, Bryan asked me and it's kind of fun to look back later and see how bad your predictions were, so what the heck.

Seriously, though, I think any of the five teams could win the AL East. But, I'll call the Blue Jays the favorite, although I'm less confident of that pick than I was of the Red Sox two years ago.

Paul O'Neill's Final Game at Yankee Stadium

Every time a significant player participates in his final home game, I'm reminded of what was perhaps the greatest impromptu send-off by the home team's fans ever, which happened to occur 11 years ago today:

Whether you're a Paul O'Neill fan or not (and I know he has his detractors), you really can't argue that was a special moment.

Good Night, Captain

I returned home from school camp? (see comments below) on the afternoon of August 2, 1979 and immediately did what I would do every weekday at that time. I headed down the street to hang out with my friends. At this time of year, that would usually involve a two-on-two game of baseball—or maybe I should call it tennis ball—in the street.

On this particular day, I showed up at the home of my friend Victor, who broke the news to me Thurman Munson had just died in a plane crash. At first, I didn't believe him, for a couple of reasons. For one, he was not a Yankees fan, and secondly, this was the type of joke that was not beneath him to tell. I may have been considered an easy target as well, I'll admit.

I went inside his house to ask his mother and turn on the television. Both sources confirmed the devastating news. This was far from the saddest news I'd ever heard—both my grandmothers died when I was nine—but, as a 12-year old not wanting to cry in front of my friend, I struggled to hold back tears.

Just prior to the 1976 season, Munson was named the first captain of the Yankees since Lou Gehrig retired in 1939. As much as Derek Jeter currently embodies the qualities that make him stand out as one who is truly worthy of the honor, so did Munson. In fact, although a few of my favorite players—Graig Nettles, Willie Randolph, Ron Guidry—also held that role, in my opinion there are only four men in history worthy of the Yankee captaincy: Gehrig, Munson, Jeter and Don Mattingly.

In considering the previous statement, I asked my dad who would have been the most likely candidate to hold such a post between the Gehrig and Munson years. His feeling was either Yogi Berra or Phil Rizzuto would have been the top choices, but neither seemed to possess quite the leadership ability as the aforementioned four.

Until Darryl Kile died of a coronary blockage during the 2002 season, Munson remained the last active player to lose his life during the regular season, so the moving tributes paid to him in the games that followed still stand as indelible memories to me.

On August 3, in the first game following his death, the Yankees starters took the field to begin the game. All of them, except catcher Jerry Narron, that is. Following a prayer, a moment of silence, and Robert Merrill's rendition of "America the Beautiful," the Yankee Stadium crowd burst into a ten-minute standing ovation. Narron remained in the dugout for the entire time, as television cameras focused on his teammates' reactions, and his empty position—or, should I say, the spot vacated by Munson—behind home plate.

Three days later, the entire team attended Munson's funeral in Canton, Ohio, then flew back to New York to play in that night's game. Bobby Murcer, after delivering a eulogy that afternoon, drove in all five runs—including a three-run homer and walk-off two-run single in the 9th—in a 5-4 Yankees victory.

Coming off back-to-back World Series victories, the Yankees' 1979 performance had come back down to earth even prior to Munson's death, although at 58-48 (.547), the season was hardly a lost cause. It may be coincidence the team would have to wait until 1996—Jeter’s rookie season—to climb back atop the baseball world. But, then again, it might not be.

Regardless, 33 years later, Thurman is still deeply missed.

No-Hitters Are Better

No-Hitters Are Better Bumper Stickers Should Be Issued.

The opening and closing quotes here are paraphrased lyrics from two different songs. Let's see if anyone can name both songs and the artist(s) who played them. I'm guessing I know the most likely person to answer correctly and he happens to be mentioned frequently in this post.

I've always had a fascination with no-hitters. It's probably not all that unusual a fascination, to be honest. But, for as long as I can remember, my personal rule when at a ballgame I'm not personally invested in is to root for both pitchers until they give up their first hit. Because, honestly, there's nothing more exciting than witnessing a no-hitter in person.

I was in Pittsburgh for Mike Schmidt's 500th home run in 1987. No doubt it was a fantastic milestone to witness, and it's a mark that has only been reached by 25 players, but it wasn't entirely unexpected. My college buddies and I had tickets, and he happened to hit his 499th the day before, so we knew there was a decent chance (a little better than one-in-five maybe).

In contrast, 275 no-hitters have been pitched since 1875, making the feat 10 times more common. But, it's still a much more unexpected occurrence, considering over 200,000 games have been played in that time span.

Milestones can be chased, as my pal Joe and I did when we traveled to Oakland for the first four games of the 1991 season, with Rickey Henderson two stolen bases away from tying Lou Brock's career record. Henderson stole one base and got thrown out twice in the the first two games of the series, then missed the final two because of injury.

But, although our attempt to witness history failed, the point I'm trying to make is that no-hitters are always a surprise and, therefore, are the ultimate ballpark experience.

So, this post will be dedicated to my experience with no-hitters and near misses I've been lucky and/or unlucky enough to say I was there for.

July 4, 1983 (Red Sox @ Yankees)
Early summer after my high school sophomore year, my best friend and next door neighbor's dad offered to take us on the 1 1/2 hour trip from our Dutchess County, New York neighborhood to the South Bronx. My dad was also invited, but he declined, so it was just the three of us.

We had pretty mediocre seats down the left field line, but it didn't matter, of course. We were at Yankee Stadium, and pretty soon the excitement of just being there was surpassed by the suspense of a chance for what certainly seemed like, and probably was, a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

I don't remember if we talked about the fact a potential no-hitter was in progress. I suspect we did, as we were two teenage boys and an adult who wasn't quite fanatical enough to buy into the superstition that we could actually jinx the thing.

What I do remember is that the buildup to the game's ultimate moment was just as suspenseful and exciting as game seven of just about any World Series I've seen, and that the final out—Dave Righetti's second strikeout of Wade Boggs on the day—was surreal.

Looking back at the box score, I realized that, as a gentleman named Dave LaPointe pointed out to me on Twitter, Righetti walked Jim Rice twice in three at bats. Looking further, I also noticed Tony Armas didn't provide much protection for Rice in the order. On the day, he struck out and grounded into a double play in three at bats. More importantly, he was in the midst of a frustrating first season in Boston, in which he would hit 36 homers and drive in 107 runs, but with a .218 batting average and a paltry .254 OBP.

Upon returning home, I wondered if my dad realized what he had missed. He hadn't watched the game on television so he didn't know, but he honestly didn't seem as disappointed as I expected. You see, dad grew up only a subway ride away from Yankee Stadium and, in fact, had previously witnessed one of Allie Reynolds's two no-hitters in pinstripes.

Of course, in my own experience, seeing one no-hitter only whet my appetite for more. As you've probably guessed, there would be opportunities, and close calls, involving potentially bigger moments. So, read on, if you're so inclined.

September 2, 2001 (Yankees @ Red Sox)
This game just so happened to be Lee Mazzola's first visit to Fenway. I recall we paid a pretty hefty price to sit in the bleachers, somewhere in the neighborhood of $90 from one of the only online ticket brokers I was aware existed at the time.

Lee hopped a bus from New York City early Sunday afternoon for the 8pm game and returned home in the wee hours of the morning, albeit a little less coherent than he arrived. He also forgot his glasses, which would turn out to be somewhat important.

The game would prove to be quite the pitchers duel between Boston's David Cone and New York's Mike Mussina, although obviously one of them would gain a slight upper hand.

The Yankees got their first hit in the second inning, but it was the only one Cone would allow until the sixth. Mussina, however, was dominating, striking out five of the first six batters he faced and nine through five innings of a scoreless tie.

Three more innings of goose eggs put up by both pitchers would leave their pitching lines looking like this going into the ninth:

Mussina: 8 IP, 0 H, 0 BB, 12 SO, 0 R
Cone: 8 IP, 4 H, 3 BB, 8 SO, 0 R

It was right about this time that Lee turned to me and said (about Mussina), "Has he given up any walks?"

I just continued looking straight ahead while shaking my head no. Yes, Mussina had a perfect game through eight.

I could swear Lee had earlier suggested the Yankees needed to get Mussina out of there, as they really needed to win this game. But, that really doesn't make much sense. The Yankees were eight games ahead of the Red Sox in the standings with only about 25 to go. So, either Lee was completely out of his mind, or it's possible I've misremembered.

Of course, Mussina's bid at the 17th perfect game in major league history was spoiled by Carl Everett on a 1-2 pitch with two outs in the ninth. To this day, Lee is convinced I think he jinxed Mussina's perfecto.

To that I say: "Lee, I forgive you."

May 5, 2007 (Mariners @ Yankees)
Lee and I would get another shot, however. This time, I traveled to visit him in the city, as I did at least once a year for ten years until I had to go and get my wife pregnant and ruin the streak last year.

This time, Lee was prepared. For one, he didn't forget his prescription eyewear—he may have been wearing contacts, so you see how I covered all (both) my bases there?—and he was prepared to act in a superstitious way.

Chien-Ming Wang was on the mound for the Yankees. 2007 was the second of his two very good seasons in pinstripes, but I still felt his lack of swing-and-miss stuff made him a less-than-likely candidate to throw a no-hitter. However, I think perfect games are a different story.

My theory, completely not backed by any sort of data, is that strikeout pitchers are more likely than their craftier counterparts to throw a no-hitter. There's obviously some element of luck involved regardless, but the fewer balls put into play, the lower the odds that the luck works against you.

OK, I realize that's not an earth-shattering hypothesis, but the next part is a little more of a reach. I think non-power pitchers are more likely to throw perfect games. Strikeout pitchers work deeper into counts more frequently, and the more deep counts, the greater the chance of a walk.

I know, I know. Balls in play also result in errors, which spoil perfect games. I didn't say my theory was sound scientifically, but again I'll remind you: perfect games require quite a bit of luck too.

Since there have only been 21 perfect games in history, there really isn't a large enough sample of them to confirm or deny my hypothesis, so please don't take me too seriously here.

Anyway, back to game. As it turns out, Wang would, in fact, flirt with a perfect game.

Lee recently accused me of not going to the bathroom during the Mussina near perfect game, but I don't think that was possible given the amount of beer I drank that night. I honestly think it was this particular occasion he was remembering. I refused to leave my seat from the moment it became appropriate to commence such ridiculous superstitions—I don't really have an answer as to when that is—through to the eighth inning when Ben Broussard spoiled Wang's bid for perfection with a one-out solo (duh!) homer.

7 1/3 perfect innings is a pretty incredible outing, but when you've experienced the heartbreak of being one out away from witnessing the sport's most incredible single-game feat, it pales in comparison.

One no-hitter and two near perfect games is probably my fair share for a lifetime, but...

I may see another, you never do know, because I've still got a long way to go.

Jorge Posada and a Couple All-Time Yankees Lists

Jorge Posada's retirement last week got me thinking about where he ranks among players—similar in certain ways—who've also worn the Yankee pinstripes. Of course, this led to one of my favorite little exercises, the creation of a couple short lists, both of which I put together pretty quickly and shared on Twitter. With the benefit of a little further examination, neither of the lists changed. So, I thought I'd write a short post about them as my own way of commemorating the career of one of the Yankees' most important contributors over the past 1 1/2 decades.

The first is the obvious one. Top five all-time Yankees catchers:

1. Yogi Berra
2. Bill Dickey
3. Thurman Munson
4. Jorge Posada
5. Elston Howard

I'm not going to spend much time elaborating on this list. Honestly, I don't see that there's much room for argument, particularly when I say both this and the next list are based on each player's time with the Yankees. That is, I didn't just take all players who have played a minimum number of years with the team and consider their entire careers. So, I don't want to hear any Wally Schang arguments from you old-timers, or any Mike Stanley mentions from those a little younger.

OK, so no one was really going to be clamoring for either of those guys, I realize.

I don't think anyone would debate those are clearly the top five catchers in Yankees history. In fact, I think the only thing that's arguable is the relative positioning of Munson and Posada. Since some are saying Posada may be a serious Hall of Fame candidate, and Munson peaked at 15.5% of the vote, it stands to reason many would rank Jorge #3. But, not me.

Maybe it's because I'm a child of the '70s, or because Munson's premature death was one of the two biggest sports heartbreaks of my lifetime. Or, possibly it's because he was the Captain who wouldn't truly be replaced until Jeter, or because I'll take 43 WAR in 10 years over 45 WAR in 15 years (excluding both players' first partial seasons), but to me, Thurman still ranks higher than Jorge.

But, that's all I'm going to say about that. It's the next list that I find a little more interesting. Top five all-time Yankees switch-hitters:

1. Mickey Mantle
2. Bernie Williams
3. Jorge Posada
4. Roy White
5. Tom Tresh

There are a couple different ways I could have gone with the basis for this list. I suppose you might infer, since it's a switch-hitters list, that I might be looking only at each player's hitting or total offensive ability. But, I'm more interested in evaluating the player's complete performance, with the fact he's a switch-hitter simply being the only requisite criterion.

Mantle at #1 is even more obvious than #1 on the previous list. I suppose you might argue Posada over Williams, especially given the difficulty of Jorge's position. But, otherwise I think the only debatable point is whether or not to slide Mark Teixeira in at #5, and bump Tresh.

It's a little too early for that, in my opinion. I'm expecting Teixeira will eventually join the list, maybe even push White out of the #4 spot, but that's no sure thing. Right now, though, I'm ranking Tresh's 22.3 WAR in 7+ seasons ahead of Teixeira's 12 WAR in three seasons. Somewhat surprisingly, Nick Swisher's value (11 WAR) over that same time frame comes fairly close to Teixeira's, but given their respective contracts, it's fair to assume Tex will last longer in pinstripes.

So, Posada not only ranks as one of the Yankees' top players of the last 15 years, he also stacks up fairly well in all-time Bronx Bombers discussions. Hall of Famer? I'm not so sure, but he's certainly among the greatest to wear the pinstripes during my lifetime.

World Series or Bust?

This is a (slight) re-write of something I posted last year at about this time. Unfortunately, it's just as apt now as it was then.

Last year at around this time, I got to thinking about what constitutes a successful season for a sports franchise. Not from the perspective of players, coaches and front office personnel of the team, but from the point of view of the fans.

As spectators, what is our primary motivation for watching our favorite sports? I'm sure the answer varies a little from person to person, but I think the common denominator is entertainment. That is, we watch the games because they are enjoyable to us. Does it get any simpler than that?

Taking this a step further, why do we choose to follow a particular team, rather than just let ourselves be entertained by individual games in which we're less personally invested in the outcomes? I would assume the answers to that question vary a little more than the first, but, I think ultimately it boils down to increased entertainment level.

So, my point here is really to ask the question, is the only entertainment value associated with rooting for a specific team to witness them win a championship? If the answer is yes, then it's a pretty said state of affairs, because that means we spend 5-6 months a year worrying about an outcome that most likely will never happen.

I contend the answer, in fact, is no. We root for a specific team because it provides us with added entertainment value, and that value is measured on a spectrum, rather than being an absolute either/or proposition. That is, the more successful our team's season, the more entertainment value they've provided us with. If they kept us believing they had a chance to win a championship for over six months—and survived only a few weeks less than the most successful teams in the league—then they did a very good job of entertaining us.

Don't get me wrong, here. I'm not saying I'll ever take consolation in a season that simply exceeds expectations, especially when it comes to the Yankees. In fact, it could be argued that, since the Yankees can never truly exceed expectations—although this year might be the exception—that a little entertainment value is foregone just being a fan of theirs. But, that's a discussion for another day.

What I am saying is I'm not going to let myself get sucked into that 29-losers-and-only-one-winner mentality. I enjoyed my team's success for much of the season, despite being disappointed in its final outcome. In the end, though, it provided me with a great deal of entertainment, and—with all due respect—that's probably more than the fans of about 18 of Major League Baseball's 30 teams can say.

What Have You Done For Me Lately (Part 2)?

I don't have much more to say today than this.

Well, I want to, at least.

What Have You Done For Me Lately, (or Can A.J. Burnett still make the Yankees' postseason rotation)?

Since, in hindsight, I was a little off in my recent assessment of the Yankees' postseason rotation situation, I thought I'd take another crack at it. Except, this time I'm going to look at each pitcher's average game score* over the course of their last four—or, in the case of Freddy Garcia, three—starts.

For an explanation of game score, see Baseball-Reference's Play Index Glossary.

Why am I looking only at their most recent outings? Because when a battle is as wide open as the Yankees' situation is, what's happened most recently tends to be weighted more heavily.

Why am I only considering Freddy Garcia's most recent three starts, while looking at the latest four for the other candidates? Because he's only pitched three times since returning from the disabled list on August 29.

What is the meaning of the sub-title of this post? Most blogs I've read recently on the subject—including this one—have already written off A.J. Burnett's chances of making the Yankees' postseason rotation. But, let's face it, the team's management has to be pulling for him, and if he's still being given the opportunity to start games in mid-September, they're not ruling him out yet.

So, let's cut to the chase and size them up based on average game score since August 21:

1. Ivan Nova - 59.3
2. C.C. Sabathia - 57.5
3. Bartolo Colon - 54.8
4. A.J. Burnett - 44.5
5. Phil Hughes - 43.0
6. Freddy Garcia - 37.7 (actually, even if we throw Garcia's August 7 start into the mix, he still ranks last at 41.0)

So, what does this tell us? Well, first of all, we all know Sabathia is the #1 starter regardless of what happens the rest of the way, so this exercise is really to try and size up the 2-4 slots.

Nova is looking as close to a lock for one of the remaining three spots as anyone. Will he be the #2 starter come playoff time? Not necessarily, but at this point, it's looking unlikely that he'll fall to #5.

That leaves two spots up for grabs. Colon seems to have the inside track on one of them, but take a look at #4 on this list. While I'm not trying to say that Burnett has pitched his way back into the team's postseason plans, is there any real reason to give Hughes the benefit of the doubt over him? I don't think so, although I'm not ruling him out yet either.

So, unless Garcia can turn things back around after scuffling of late, we could very well be looking at a postseason rotation of Sabathia-Nova-Colon-Burnett.

Of course, this is all speculation, but at this point I still think the competition is wide open and the much-maligned Burnett has at least as good a chance as Hughes and Garcia to earn a couple October starts.

Teach Your Children

KJ and I attended our first Yankees-Red Sox game together on Wednesday night, and the occasion marked Little Chuck's introduction to the long-standing rivalry as well. Well, sort of.

It was also the first time I've paid to park in the Fenway neighborhood since my first visit there back in the summer of '88. Since KJ is under doctor's orders to take it easy, we decided to suck it up and shell out for parking at Fenway's most convenient location, the Lansdowne Street Garage. $44 later—and that's actually a competitive price, I kid you not—we arrived just across the street from the park.

This, of course, did nothing to change my perception of Fenway as the worst value in baseball, but in this case, it was well worth the price.

We also sat in the right field box seats for the first time ever, and they were actually pretty good seats by Fenway Park standards.

The game took place the night after the ridiculous Cervelli-Lackey fiasco, in which Francisco Cervelli broke the long-standing and well-known unwritten rule that dictates only pitchers—even when they're showing up their own teammates—are allowed to show emotion on the field. But, that's all I'm going to say about that incident. I may revisit it in another post, but don't count on it.

During the game, David Ortiz was intentionally walked in front of Jed Lowrie. The crowd, predictably, booed the move, prompting me to tweet:

Of course, this quick list was missing a couple other important examples that I thought of a little later.

So, since I'm soon to be a brand new parent, I thought I'd share my list of the five things you (and I) need to teach your (our) children about being a fan with a clue. Because, honestly, most fans at the ballpark are really lacking in that respect, and the Fenway faithful are no different from anywhere else.

Without further ado, I present these in my favorite list format...as a top five countdown, even if I've already given a few of them away. I suppose you could call these my unwritten rules of fandom (otherwise known as the top five stupidest things baseball fans do that you should avoid).

5. Don't boo the opposition's attempted pickoffs.
When you boo the opposing pitcher for attempting to pick off your runner, you're basically complaining that the other team is trying to win. I know you're rooting for your team to win, but this is supposed to be a competition. I can, however, understand booing an excessive number of pickoff attempts against the same runner. I guess that's why this one is #5.

4. Don't boo when the opposing team makes a pitching change.
Again, what you're doing here is protesting the fact the other team is trying to win. I get that pitching changes drag out the length of the game, but if you're going to be a baseball fan, it's something you'll have to learn to deal with. Besides, if you're frustrated that the game is being delayed, why don't you boo your own team when they change pitchers?

3. Don't boo when one of your players is intentionally walked.
First of all, the intentional walk is generally a foolish strategy. This is not intended to be post about SABRmetrics, so I'm not going to over-analyze this one, but more often than not, the intentional walk improves the offensive team's chance of winning. So, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, alright. Also, since your opposition at least thinks they're doing it for their own benefit, see #4 and #5 above.

2. Don't yell "balk" at things that aren't balks.
First of all, you'll need a lesson about what is and isn't a balk. I once wrote a post—exactly three years ago today, in fact—that my pal Lee called the ultimate blog entry on balks. But, that's a little more detail than is necessary here. What I'm really talking about is when fans call for a balk when the pitcher fakes a move to second or third. News flash, folks...THIS IS NOT A BALK. It's legal for a pitcher to fake a pickoff throw to second or third, but not to first. OK, got that? I'm not even going to confuse you by explaining when it's legal to fake a throw to first. Concentrate on understanding this difference first.

1. Don't do the wave.
If I even need to explain this one, then I'm sorry, but you're a hopeless cause and probably shouldn't have little baseball fans in the first place.

Oh yeah, the Red Sox beat the Yankees 9-5, so our family tally now stands at Red Sox 1, Yankees 0...obviously.

Garcia and Colon to Vie for #4 Spot in Yankees' Playoff Rotation?

Freddy Garcia and Bartolo Colon have already battled for a job once this year—in spring training, when Garcia beat out Colon for the #5 spot in the Yankees' rotation—and they may very well be on their way to competing for a role once again.

It's probably a little too early to be speculating about the makeup of the Yankees' postseason rotation, but it's still a fun exercise, so I'm not going to shy away from it.

At the start of the year, it was expected that A.J. Burnett and Phil Hughes would be the stalwarts of the rotation behind staff ace C.C. Sabathia. But, an early season injury to Hughes and Burnett's inability to rebound from last year's disaster, combined with surprisingly effective performances from Garcia, Colon and rookie Ivan Nova have left that notion in doubt.

It has been apparent for quite some time that the Yankees' playoff rotation would come down to Sabathia and the best three of the remaining five guys. In recent weeks, just who those top three are has started to come into perspective for me.

Following Burnett's horrible outing on Saturday night, he has now given up 21 earned runs on 35 hits in 17 2/3 August innings—for a 10.70 ERA—while allowing a .432 batting average against. Although his first-half performance was solid if not spectacular, his second half has proven that he's not someone who can be relied on. Given the fact the Yankees have options, something they didn't have heading into previous Octobers, I have to believe he's pitched his way out of the team's postseason plans.

While Garcia and Colon were the hot hands early in the season, of late the performances of Nova and Hughes have been promising. Nova has made five starts since returning from AAA in late July, and has won them all. The 5-0 record does overstate a little how well he's pitched, but he's posted a 3.55 ERA, a 23-to-6 strikeout-to-walk ratio, and has allowed a respectable 31 hits and three home runs in 33 IP.

Over the same time frame, Hughes has started four games and made one relief appearance, allowing six earned runs—for a 2.08 ERA—on 20 hits and six walks in 26 IP. He's only struck out 15, which is a bit of a concern, but it's otherwise hard to argue with the results. He appears to be well on his way to righting a season that looked to be way off-track early on.

Until recently, it seemed Colon would be a lock to secure a postseason rotation spot, as long as his body held up over the course of a long season. I even went so far as to proclaim him the Yankees' #2 starter before an injury derailed him in June. While his overall stats are good, he's been more of a mixed bag since returning from said injury, including 18 hits, five walks, four home runs allowed, and a 5.17 ERA in 15 2/3 August innings.

Whether hitters have finally figured him out, his body has worn down after throwing his highest number of major league innings since 2005, or his carriage has finally turned back into a pumpkin, Colon's ability to contribute in October is starting to come into question.

Garcia has only recently been slowed by injury, a mysterious cut right index finger that has landed him on the disabled list. There's no questioning his performance on the field this season, although he's another pitcher who doesn't blow you away with his ability to strike hitters out. He's just simply gotten the job done, to the tune of a 3.16 ERA over 122 1/3 innings, which ranks him second among the team's starters behind Sabathia.

Still, I can't help but feel Garcia needs to continue to prove the first three-quarters of this season have not been a fluke. Simultaneously, Colon will try to prove the flame has not burned out on his early-season success. The two of them will battle it out for the right to follow Sabathia, Hughes and Nova—not necessarily in that order—in the Yankees' postseason equation.

At least, that's how I see it...for now.

Jinxing Colon

With the heavy rains in New England this weekend, my work around the house has moved from outside to in, which gave me the opportunity yesterday to more closely follow the Yankees game on my mobile device, and share a couple observations on Twitter in the process.

So, when Bombers starter Bartolo Colon completed his sixth inning of shutout baseball, while the Yankees were leading the Indians 2-0 on home runs by Alex Rodriguez and Curtis Granderson, I tweeted the following:

It couldn't have been more than a half-hour later that I received this response from my pal Lee Mazzola:

I had already noticed Colon had been pulled in favor of David Robertson two outs into the 7th inning, but since I wasn't watching the game on television, I hadn't made anything of it. Then, of course, I learned Colon was removed from the game due to a strained hamstring—an injury he suffered while covering first base—and will likely wind up on the disabled list.

I've written a few times in the past about my baseball superstitions, but have always qualified these statements by saying I don't really believe in such things. Now, I'm not so sure.

Jason Varitek Catches Two-Hit Shutout, WAR Doesn't Care

Much has been made in the past about what a great game-caller Jason Varitek is, and with Josh Beckett pitching last night like the 2007 version of himself, I'm sure the calls for Varitek to be Beckett's personal catcher are not far off. In fact, the nonsense has already started.

I'm not trying to downplay Varitek's reputation for being good at handling pitchers. I'm sure it's warranted. I bet there are a lot of pitchers who love working with him. I just don't think it makes that much of a difference. Any pitcher with his head screwed on straight knows he's the one who decides what pitch to throw in what situation—the catcher can only suggest—and that it ultimately comes down to his ability to execute. So, I suspect the pitchers who stand to gain the most from a catcher who's a good game-caller are those who are not long for the major leagues anyway.

I'd like to see someone perform a statistical analysis of Varitek's catcher ERA in comparison to the other catchers who've played for the Red Sox during the same time frame. This would have to be a little more than just a look at the team's ERA with versus without Varitek, as it's possible that backup catchers might be at a statistical disadvantage, more often than not being called on to catch back-of-the-rotation starters. For example, when Doug Mirabelli was in Boston, he was Tim Wakefield's personal catcher. Wakefield had some pretty good years during that time frame, but I would still suspect he was below average relative to the rest of the team's starters.*

*EDIT: As it turns out, I'm wrong about this. Mirabelli spent six full or partial seasons with the Red Sox (2001-05 & 2007, catching 48-62 games in each), and Wakefield's ERA was below the team average in only 2004 & 2007. But, you get the point. Regardless of who's at a statistical disadvantage, the analysis would need to be properly weighted to ensure a fair comparison.

So, this would need to be some kind of weighted-average analysis that takes into consideration the quality of the pitchers throwing to each catcher. Who knows? If it's determined that Varitek improved his pitchers' ERA by as much as 0.2 runs per game, that translates to more than 280 runs over his 1423 games caught. Since, in WAR methodology, every 10 runs roughly equals one win, this could add 28 wins to Varitek's current career WAR of 23.1. Bringing his WAR total over 50 would put him in the class of rock-solid Hall of Fame catchers Mickey Cochrane and Gabby Hartnett.

But, seriously, I have no intention of taking on such a project. I don't have the time nor the motivation. Besides, I'm quite content in the knowledge that the closest Varitek is going to get to the Clark Sports Center podium is sitting in the invited guest seats when Pedro Martinez or, perhaps, Curt Schilling gets inducted.

I made my first visit to a major league park last night, witnessing Josh Beckett's masterful pitching performance in person. I always enjoy going to the ballpark, even if it means I have to contend with "Yankees Suck" chants and the drunks in the Fenway Park bleachers, as I did last night. I wore my Yankees hat, but maintained a pretty low profile, as there wasn't really much reason to do otherwise.

Highlights, while few and far between, included:

• Attending a game with my pal DJ for the first time since our trip to Toronto for the World Baseball Classic two years ago, and discussing our new offensive player rating system, which I'll write more about at a later date, if it seems worthy.
• Observing the cluelessness of fans around me, as no one seemed to notice that a run was erased when Kevin Youkilis was called out for runner interference on an attempted double play in the third.
• Watching Carl Crawford continue to struggle. 
• The fact that the game was over in just under three hours (2:58 according to the box score), which has to be some kind of record for a nationally televised Yankees-Red Sox game.
• Witnessing the Yankees debut of Freddy Garcia. OK, not really.

But, as I may have said before, a night at the ballpark—even when your team manages only four base runners, and ends the game with 17 consecutive batters retired—is pretty much unrivaled by almost any other activity.

Opening Day

Is Curtis Granderson ready?




Maybe, just for today, this should be his at-bat song:

Congratulations to the Giants, and No Hard Feelings for the Eviction

Unless you really couldn't care less about baseball—in which case, you're probably not reading this—you're well aware that the San Francisco Giants are 2010 World Series Champions. This makes me happy on a number of levels, one of which I'll get to in a moment.

What you may or may not know is that the Yankees and the Giants used to share the same home. Actually, the Polo Grounds were the Giants' home, and the Yankees were their tenants. That is, until they were evicted in 1921. Yes, due to the overwhelming success at the box office the Yankees were experiencing—mainly as a result of the purchase of the popular Babe Ruth from the Red Sox—the Giants decided they had to go.

The Yankees and their fans hold no ill feelings towards the Giants regarding their actions, though. I suppose that would be like holding a grudge against your landlord who kicked you out of your $500/month apartment, when you're now living in a $10-million mansion. But, I digress.

The main reason I'm happy for this year's champions of the baseball world is that my mother's family were New York Giants fans. It's a special feeling that, less than two months after visiting my maternal grandfather's birthplace—the Tuscany region of Italy—the team he grew up rooting for wins its first World Series since leaving New York for the West Coast.

Now, I'm not so certain my grandfather would actually be happy for the Giants, as he was in the camp of those who were angry with them for moving, and was a Mets fan during the time I knew him. Still, I fondly recall hearing about his hero, Bill Terry, in addition to the amusing stories about him running from truant officers across Manhattan roof tops. I'm pretty certain, though, that my mom—a much more benevolent soul—would still be happy for the Giants, although she was also a Mets convert.

It's also hard not to like the current cast of characters that constitutes the 2010 San Francisco Giants. From likable veterans—Aubrey Huff, Édgar Rentería and Juan Uribe—to unassuming youngsters—Buster Posey, Madison Bumgarner and Pablo Sandoval—as well as non-conforming individuals—Brian Wilson and Tim Lincecum—the Giants are a team that's easy to root for. Plus, I'd much rather see the citizens of San Francisco celebrate their team's first World Series victory than the folks from Dallas.

Win or Else?

After the New York Football Giants defeated the Dallas Cowboys last Monday night, and—more significant to this story—knocked Cowboys Quarterback Tony Romo out of action for the next 6-8 weeks, I thought about sending an old friend a text message offering my condolences on the end of his team's season. Said friend is a Dallas fan, of course. I knew that, in the process, he would return my dig by denigrating the Yankees, but I didn't care.

I never sent that text, not because I feared the repercussions, but simply because I forgot. Still, it got me to thinking about what constitutes a successful season for a sports franchise. Not from the perspective of players, coaches and front office personnel of the team, but from the point of view of the fans.

As spectators, what is our primary motivation for watching our favorite sports? I'm sure the answer varies a little from person to person, but I think the common denominator is entertainment. That is, we watch a game because it is enjoyable to us. Does it get any simpler than that?

Taking it a step further, why do we choose to follow a particular team, rather than just let ourselves be entertained by individual games in which we're less personally invested in the outcomes? I would assume the answers to that question would vary a little more than the first, but, still I think it boils down to increased entertainment level.

So, my point here is really to ask the question, is the only entertainment value associated with rooting for a specific team to witness them win a championship? If the answer is yes, then it's a pretty said state of affairs, because that means we spend 5-6 months a year worrying about an outcome that most likely will never happen.

I contend that the answer, in fact, is no. We root for a specific team because it provides us with added entertainment value, and that value is measured on a spectrum, rather than being an absolute either/or proposition. That is, the more successful our team's season, the more entertainment value they've provided us with. If they kept us believing they had a chance to win a championship for almost seven months—and survived only two weeks less than the most successful teams—then they did a very good job of entertaining us.

Don't get me wrong, here. I'm not saying I'll ever take consolation in a season that exceeds expectations, especially when it comes to the Yankees. In fact, it could be argued that, since the Yankees can never truly exceed expectations, that a little entertainment value is foregone just being a fan of theirs. But, that's a road I've been down before, and I have no intention of going there right now.

What I am saying is I'm not going to let myself get sucked into that 29-losers-and-only-one-winner mentality. I enjoyed my team's success for much of the season, despite being briefly disappointed in its final outcome. In the end, though, it provided me with a great deal of entertainment, something that I suspect Dallas Cowboys fans will be sorely lacking for the rest of this year.

Metal Gods

I used to work in the transportation industry. More specifically, I worked for a couple of logistics providers, who were really just glorified trucking companies. Even though I never worked in passenger transportation, I've always had a fascination with that business as well. So, when I planned my first trip of the season to New York City for a Yankees game, I was intrigued by the idea of riding a BoltBus for the first time. But, I didn't make my plans far enough in advance, so I opted for the old standard—Greyhound.

Still, I was curious what effect BoltBus has had on Greyhound's business, considering so many of their early Saturday buses were sold out in advance. Greyhound, of course, affords you the "luxury" of being able to just show up at the terminal and get on the next available bus, but often that means you need to arrive as much as an hour in advance and stand in line.

I really wanted to get on the 6:30 bus last Saturday morning, but there was no way I was getting to Boston's South Station by 5:30, so closer to 6 would have to suffice. When I got in line at around 5:50 am, I was a little surprised that there were only about 10 people in front of me. I was even more surprised, after boarding the bus—which turned out to be a Peter Pan—when it pulled away from the gate with at least a dozen empty seats. Then, I remembered that we were stopping in Framingham on the way to NYC, so it ended up being a full bus after all.

So, considering this was an early AM departure, maybe BoltBus will settle into the niche of catering to the traveler able to make plans in advance and lock in a specific time, while Greyhound will serve those willing to sacrifice a little comfort for flexibility of travel. What do I know about the business of passenger transportation anyway?

Of course, the purpose of this trip was to go to a Yankees game with my pal Lee Mazzola. I began going to games with Lee back in 2001, after a conversation we had when I stayed with him the night before running the 2000 New York City Marathon. It was that weekend that a short-lived tradition began—he would host a Yankees-Red Sox game at Yankee Stadium, and I would host at Fenway. Although the games in Boston were more eventful, that end of the tradition lasted only two years, in part due to the excessive cost of obtaining tickets for those games. But, despite the fact we failed to keep up the intended tradition, another resulted, and this was the 10th consecutive year we've attended at least one game in the Bronx together.

There was a brief period when the Yankees-Red Sox affairs were frequently lopsided contests in favor of the visiting Red Sox. The frustration of such games led to the development of a system of side bets to help us pass the time when necessary, and this has come in handy when the Yankees opponent has been a less-than-exciting one, such as the 2010 Seattle Mariners. As is usually the case, I came out a few dollars ahead, primarily thanks to Russell Branyan's first-inning homer off of Javier Vázquez, and Robinson Canó's two-run single, also in the first.

Another unofficial tradition that was honored was that of baseball trivia and inane music discussion. While Lee did a pretty commendable job chipping away at the answers to my question about the eight active pitchers ranking in the top 100 all-time in strikeouts, it was the music discussion that ruled the day.

We were mostly in agreement with our picks for the eight most important heavy metal bands of all-time, a list that was difficult to compile due to the challenge of defining who fits into the genre. We may have broadened our definition of heavy metal a little more than most, but our consensus top five were Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, Metallica, AC/DC and Nirvana, not necessarily in that order. We also agreed that Iron Maiden and Judas Priest deserved to be considered two of the remaining three, but I didn't really agree with his choice of Slayer for the remaining spot.

A couple of interesting online lists confirmed most of our picks. The Daily News' Top 11 had Motorhead at #8, Slayer at #5, and no Nirvana, while MTV's list had Pantera at #5, Slayer at #6 and Motorhead—once again—at #8. In addition to Nirvana, Led Zeppelin was absent from the latter list.

It appears the consensus is that Nirvana is not a heavy metal band, but since they satisfy perhaps the most important criteria for inclusion in the genre—the Beavis and Butthead test—I contend they should be part of the discussion. So, after taking into consideration the input of Lee and these other sources, I compile my final list as follows:

1. Black Sabbath
2. Metallica
3. Led Zeppelin
4. AC/DC
5. Nirvana
6. Judas Priest
7. Iron Maiden
8. Kiss

The Yankees won the game 9-5, by the way, with the highlights being Eduardo Núñez's first career hit and Chad Gaudin, Boone Logan and David Robertson combining for 4 2/3 scoreless innings in relief of the ineffective Vázquez.

For Lee's slightly different account of the game's festivities, particularly the outcome of the metal bands discussion, check out his blog post at Lee's Steez.

Ode to Ron Guidry (1978)

This is part 6 in the From Hank to Hideki series, chronicling the 40 most memorable sports moments of my lifetime.

Previous: The Boston Massacre (1978)

For a few weeks during sixth grade, my English class's focus was on poetry. Besides memorizing and reciting "Casey at the Bat" to a standing ovation from the class, I wrote an ode to my newest favorite baseball player.

If you'd asked me back then who my favorite Yankee was, I would have been hard pressed to decide between Thurman Munson, Willie Randolph, Graig Nettles and Ron Guidry. But, Guidry was the emerging star, and judging by the fact that I had a hand-made "Louisiana Lightning" t-shirt, I would say Gator got the nod. Oh yeah, and that's not to mention this poem:

I'm not sure what to make of the pseudonym I was using back then, but I assure you I wrote this poem on the morning of October 13, 1978. How do I know exactly what day it was? Well, that was the day that Guidry was to take the mound, for my beloved Yankees, in Game 3 of the World Series. With his team already in a 2-0 hole, I was one of a countless number of fans praying that he would do what he had done 15 times during the regular season: pitch the team to victory following a loss.

Yes, you read that right. Ron Guidry posted 15 wins following Yankees losses during the 1978 season, yet he lost out on the MVP award to a player whose team coughed up a 14-game lead in the span of 51 days. Throw in the fact that he was 25-3 with a 1.74 ERA, 0.95 WHIP and 248 strikeouts, and I'll need someone to convince me that there has ever been a starting pitcher more deserving of an MVP than Guidry was in '78.

I guess I should explain this Joe Cronin Award thing. When I learned that Guidry had been named co-winner of the award with Jim Rice of the Red Sox, I thought it brought a little more prestige than it turns out it does. Awarded for "distinguished achievement," I believe it was an American League-only award given out from 1973 to roughly 1993. But, that's all I know about it. There's a scarcity of information on the web, and although I did email the Baseball Hall of Fame Library, I'm not going to wait to hear back before I post this.

Guidry did beat the Dodgers that night, but it was another one of my favorite players who was the game's hero. Guidry pitched a complete game, and allowed only one run, but gave up eight hits and walked an additional seven batters. Yankees third baseman Graig Nettles' defense saved probably two runs in each of the 3rd and 5th innings, with several of his patented diving plays on hard-hit lined drives and ground balls. The Yankees won the game 5-1, the first of four consecutive victories that brought them their second consecutive World Series championship.

I was definitely spoiled by my baseball team's success, but this may have made the failures of the team I followed in my second favorite sport hurt even more. The torment of being a young Giants fan had yet to reach its pinnacle, but that moment was coming sooner rather than later.

Update (5/26/10): I received a very quick response from the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown. They sent me a press release from 1999, after Wade Boggs was named that year's recipient, which listed the past winners of the award. It appears the Joe Cronin Award for "significant achievement" hasn't been given out since.

Next: Miracle at the Meadowlands (1978)