The Futility Infielder
A Baseball Journal by Jay Jaffe I'm a baseball fan living in New York City. In between long tirades about the New York Yankees and the national pastime in general, I'm a graphic designer.Friday, June 08, 2001
Winner of the Butch Hobson Award
Jason Varitek broke his elbow diving for a pop foul in an 8-1 game vs. Detroit. Once again, the fullback mentality gets the best of the Red Sox.I think I'm understanding the Sox better after the events of this week. They seem to think that by emptying the tank in June, be it milking another inning out of Pedro or going full-bore for a pop foul with the game already in hand, they can right 83 years of bad luck. In short, the Sox always seem to be pressing.
Insert your favorite quote here:
A. This ain't football, we do this every day.
B. Pennants aren't won in June. But they're often lost there.
C. If every game is life and death, you're gonna end up dead a lot of the time.
Now, permit me to enter the 7 1/2th Floor of Fenway Park...
BEING DAN DUQUETTE
"To hell with Jimy Williams. He hasn't taken our team to the playoffs in... let's see... twenty goddamned months! Holy shit. I've got to fire this guy soon. Fuck. I've got to show that drunk Bob Ryan I'm the boss around here."To hell with Felipe Alou. Just because he's free to manage again doesn't mean I have to hire him. Even with our Montreal connection. Even with everything those writers are saying.
"What this team needs is a manager who will come in and establish some intensity, damn it. No one will be caught not hustling. We must not let up for a minute if we're going to beat the pinstriped scourge. We need a few more ballplayers like Jason Varitek. Guys willing to risk everything for a single play. Pitchers who'll take the ball whenever they're asked to do so, no matter how bad their arm's hurt. Rod Beck types, damn it! That's the kind of intensity I need.
"Boy, I sure wish we had a guy like Butch Hobson around. That guy would run through a wall for the Boston fans. I think he did, actually. It's always third-and-long with him. Da-da-da-DA-da-DA! CHARGE!!!!
"Let's see... where's my Rolodex? Hmmmmm.... managers, managers. Billy Martin? He'd never leave the Yankees. And besides, he's dead. Fuck. Dick Williams? Last seen with his dick hanging out, and on the Yankee payroll no less. No, no, no. Earl Weaver? Too old. Too drunk. Sure would get Bob Ryan off my ass, though. Let's see... Gene Mauch? Holy shit, that's IT!!!! He's got to be due for a pennant some time..."
Archives
June 2001 July 2001 August 2001 September 2001 October 2001 November 2001 December 2001 January 2002 February 2002 March 2002 April 2002 May 2002 June 2002 July 2002 August 2002 September 2002 October 2002 November 2002 December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010
Subscribe to Posts [Atom]