The season is over. It’s all behind them. (team shot pissing on monument)
I was recently branded all manner of moron — and, worse, a Mets fan – for putting postmortems on the pinstripes.
We New Yorkers fancy ourselves as the most educated and sophisticated sports devotees in the union. But in truth we’re just as provincial and petty as any other faction of flyover country.
WFAN host Mike Francesa dissected his beloved Bombers on Monday. And he made the reasonable assertion that the Yankees, at 63-59, need to go 25-15 in their final 40 games in order to make a hearty march toward the playoffs.
Which is why the season is over.
Let’s understand this. The Yankees are a .516 team after 120 games, yet we’re supposed to believe they will miraculously morph into a .600 club over the final six weeks? And they’re supposed to do it with an amalgam of castaways, castoffs and recycled parts?
...Where are the Yankees headed? Not that he has anything left in his brittle bat and creaky limbs, but Derek Jeter is taking the last link to the dynasty, to the time when we thought the good times were eternal. Who will replace No. 2?
His backup, Brendan Ryan, is batting .222 with 0 homers and 6 RBIs. Second base? Stephen Drew isn’t exactly Robinson Cano. Right field? Martin Prado is nothing more than a nice player, and Ichiro — who is a first-ballot baseball God — is 40 and is batting .277 with 14 RBIs. Their savior behind the plate, McCann (you know him as McCan’t), is mashing — .235 BA with 13 homers, 49 RBIs and a .291 OBP. For that they forked over nearly $100 million.
Well, at least we know the answer at third, The hybrid hitter/fielder and legend, the panacea for the plagued roster is…
More like Pay-Rod. His guaranteed contract, still intact despite all his efforts to void his bedrock deal, is the sole reason that Hal Steinbrenner is welcoming him back. So we hang our tattered hopes on lucky No. 13 and hit our knees for Pray-Rod to play again, even at half-mast.
Considering their biblical fall from grace, it will take prayer, a religion or a religious experience to believe in the Bronx Bombers again.
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