Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Fat Lady Sings, Curtain Fall for Yanks, Torre

Watching Game four of the ALDS was painful, like watching a champion racehorse come up lame in the home stretch and go down in a heap. What else to do but put a gun to the horse’s head and squeeze the trigger?

The Indians simply executed better than the Yankees in every aspect of the game. By the fourth inning, when I switched the game off for good and said so long to the Joe Torre era – because for this collapse he’s sure to be canned, and in fact should be canned – Cleveland was 13 for 26 with Runners in Scoring Position in the series, and batting equally well with two out.

In the first inning with the Yanks down 2-0 and Jeter at second and Abreau at first, Alex Rodriguez walked to the plate and dug in against Paul Byrd, and you had the sense that here was A-Rod’s moment to slough off the past, the futility of 2004, 2005, and 2006, to silence a few of his critics and earn the adoration of Yankee fans, but it wasn’t to be – the greatest regular season player in recent history struck out on three pitches.

Leading off the third, A-Rod struck out looking.

When the Indians were batting, the half innings passed with agonizing slowness, as the hitters went deep into every count, 3-1, 3-2, fouling off pitches from Wang and then Mike Mussina, taking close pitches, waiting patiently for a pitch to hit. When the Yankees were at the plate it was just the opposite – the Yankee batters always seemed to be down in the count, 0-1 or 0-2, forced to take defensive swings in their own storied ballpark.

It was ugly, but not unexpected. Yankee pitching was suspect all year, and though the offense was fearsome, too often the entire team went into a collective slump, and when that happened, they had trouble beating the likes of Tampa Bay and Kansas City.

I know that people will argue that it’s not Joe Torre’s fault, since he can’t throw a strike or swing the bat, but other managers have been fired for less. Look at the record and tell me a change on the bench in the Bronx isn’t absolutely necessary: 2002, bounced by the Angels; 2003, crushed by Florida in the World Series; 2004, the historic, record book making collapse against Boston; 2005, victimized again by the Angels; and in 2006, another first round exit, this time against Detroit.

If the Yankees were the type of organization that was content just to win the division crown or get to the play-offs, Torre’s job would be safe, but that’s not the case. For George Steinbrenner, getting close isn’t enough – he wants the hardware and the championship banners, the rings. Torre hasn’t delivered in years.

General Manager Brian Cashman may need to exit as well, since he’s the architect of the team, the man who signed A-Rod, Randy Johnson, Carl Pavano, Roger Clemens, Jason Giambi and on and on. Many of these acquisitions never panned out the way the Yankee brain trust hoped.

As Jackson Brown put it, “All good things must come to an end” and the Torre era in New York is certainly over. I’m sure Joe ducked into the clubhouse between innings and began packing his personal effects into cardboard cartons: Preparation H and Pepcid AC, Extra-Strength Excedrin, Tylenol, Bayer aspirin, Pepto Bismal, a bottle of Johnny Walker Red, chewing gum and breath mints, sunflower seeds, notes from players and fans, a birthday card from George Steinbrenner, from 2000, when the dynasty was intact. He’ll come back tomorrow and take the photographs from the walls and the knick-knacks from the shelves.

And so it goes for the losers. I can’t work up much sympathy for these multi-millionaire, pampered professional athletes, though I do feel bad for Derek Jeter, who for years has been the heart and soul of the Yankees, and the only player who could be counted on to produce when the rest of the boys were choking -- though even Jeter, as great as he has been, didn’t deliver this year.

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