It was July, 2004.  A-Rod, like many who join the Yankees, was struggling to adjust to his new team and city, putting up some pretty sorry stats.  But one thing he picked up on quickly was the hatred between his team and the Red Sox.  It was an otherwise ordinary game when A-Rod came to bat against Bronson Arroyo.  The pitcher lost his grip and hit A-Rod with a curve ball, not the type of pitch you throw if you’re trying to hit someone.  Regardless, A-Rod took it as a slight and started jawing with Arroyo on his way to first base.  That’s when this story’s hero, Jason Varitek, stepped in.  He got in between A-Rod and Arroyo, thinking Rodriguez was going to charge the mound.  Then he uttered one simple statement: “We don’t throw at .260 hitters!”  Then he followed that up with the now-classic “glove meets face” and it was on.  A bench-clearing brawl ensued with punches thrown on both sides and ending in multiple ejections and suspensions.  So thanks, Jason Varitek, for providing an awesome dis, a hilarious picture, and an entertaining fight between 50 or so combatants.    Now that is some classic trash-talking.

It was August 1, 1973 and the Yankees were playing the Red Sox.  In the game the day before, Sox catcher Carlton Fisk had tripped Yankee Roy White while he was trying to score, causing him to miss the plate entirely and allowing Fisk to tag him out.  So at the beginning of the next game, Yanks pitcher Mel Stottlemyre threw a fastball right at Fisk’s head, letting him know that the Yankees were looking for revenge.

Later in the game, the Yankees called for a suicide squeeze with their catcher, Thermond Munson, on third base.  Munson broke for home and collided with Fisk as hard as he could.  Fisk tried to get up to throw the other runner out, but Munson stayed laying on top of him.  Fisk then threw Munson off of him, and the brawl was on.  Munson started throwing punches, and Gene Michaels, who had put down the bunt, started throwing punches too.  Basically, Fisk was fighting 1 on 2, and doing a pretty good job of it.  A few seconds later both benches had cleared and everyone was throwing punches.

In the end, lots of people left the field with bruises and cuts on their faces, not the least of which was Fisk, who had gotten sucker-punched and then double teamed.  Sox pitcher Bill “Spaceman” Lee commented on the incident by saying that the Yankees fighting style was like “a bunch of hookers swinging their purses.”  The Sox went on to win the game 3-2, and Spaceman’s comment will go down as the funniest thing I’ve ever heard a baseball player say.

“Hookers swinging their purses.”  Now THAT’s talking trash.

Stay tuned for the rest of the month where we’ll be telling further tales of trash-talking greatness.

The big market teams are making it rain on some hos (in this case "hos" refers to free agents).

The baseball off-season has been slow to develop, unless your team was already awesome.  The Yanks got Granderson; the Sawx got Lackey and Mike Cameron; the Phillies traded one ace to Seattle (Lee) for another from Toronto (Halladay); the Angels got Matsui; the Mets will probably land Jason Bay; the Cardinals are desperate to re-sign Holliday.

What is the significance of these moves other than to their respective teams?  The good teams got better, and they’re all big markets except the one with the best player on the planet [Note: the Mets were not good last year, but they are a big market team with a high payroll].  That’s how it goes in recession-era sports.  Want more proof?  Here are the major NBA off-season moves:

LA got Artest; the Spurs got RJ; Dallas got Matrix; the Magic got VC; Atlanta got Crawford; the Celtics got Sheed; Houston got Ariza; and the Cavs got Shaq.

The parallels are all there.  If your team was in contention or close to it, they got better.  If they weren’t, they got worse.  Why?  Winning teams in big markets sell tickets.  Thus they can afford to raise payroll (or in the case of the NBA, afford to pay the luxury tax for exceeding the salary cap).  All of those teams who did/will contend are from big markets with two exceptions 1) Orlando is a small market, but only has one team that is well-supported and contends; and 2) the Cavs/Cardinals: both desperate to hang onto the best player of their respective sports (LeBron & Pujols) with the fear that they will leave town for a team with a higher payroll who can pay for other top players and win titles thus ultimately devastating the team and the city’s economy and perhaps lead to the team having to leave town.

Yes, these are the economics of sports in the current recession.  Yes, the playoffs of both sports will be immensely entertaining due to the arms race of talent signings and trades.  The good teams got better.  The bad teams got worse.  And we may see a series of teams having to relocate in the next few years as a result.  Just like in real life over the last decade, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.  Oh, and then there’s my Chicago teams which are in the 3rd biggest market and have tons of money, and yet all of them suck (except for the Blackhawks, but nobody cares about hockey anyway).  At least my fantasy teams are worth rooting for.

I received your letter several days ago, but decided to let it’s message sink in for a while before replying. I can’t tell you how much your words meant to me.  I want to let you know that I understand how you feel.  I have often wondered what would happen if we were to ignore the pressures of our friends, families, the press, and my obligation to the Yankees and just run away together in lovers’ bliss.  It’s no secret that I have a thing for strong older women.  Remember: I dated Madonna, and she’s almost 20 years older than me.

Sometimes I think of leaving Kate to be with you.  I can’t stop dreaming of stealing away to remote locations in your native Jamaica, kissing under water falls, rolling around on white sand beaches, eating deliciously spicy Caribbean foods until our bellies beg us to stop.  And I know you are a delicious cook, stirring the pot with your sensuality.  I would let you jerk MY chicken, if you know what I mean.  But I believe our love is too forbidden. I don’t think the press, or my teammates, or my two children would understand what we have together.

How I long to shower with you in the locker room under Yankee Stadium, and kiss you tenderly, like I kissed my mirror image in that photo shoot for Details magazine.

How I long for a day when the world can accept our love, and not make jokes or question why we would be together.  Some day I will leave it all behind.  I’ll leave New York without telling a soul.  I’ll look for you in the dance halls of Jamaican beaches, waiting for the day when you walk in and our eyes meet, knowing that we have beaten all the nay-sayers and doubters, and that our love will prevail over all.  Then I will wrap my arms around you like my hands around a bat, and kiss you as our lips meet like a ball meeting a glove, then sparks will fly like the fireworks after a Yankees championship.  We will spend the night dancing to Major Lazer’s Pon de Floor, paying no attention to the glances or the whispers, letting the outside world melt away as we get our freak on out on the dance floor.

Your coconut tree,

Alex

Grace Dunkley-Asphall is a poet and writer who I happened to work with a few years ago.  Since we both run our own blogs, we decided to do a swap in which we would post on each other’s sites.  Here is Grace’s entry for TOF.  Stay tuned for part II when I post a rebuttal on her website

Somewhere In Brooklyn

Big Apple

November 2009

Dearest AR:

¿Como esta usted?  Where are you?  The Baseball season is over.  Your team won…to be exact, their 27^th World Series Title. The celebration has ended.  Your locker is empty.  The field is silenced and so is my mood.   How else can I explain that I am missing you?   Inasmuch as you have physically remained out of my reach throughout the season, seeing you on TV was just as good even though I cussed at you and throw napkins at the TV, if your performance wasn’t up to par in my sight.  I have to admit that that was an intense action on my part.   I should have cherished every moment that you had appeared on TV because now I won’t be able to see you until the next season.  Absence is supposed to make the heart grow fonder, but in my situation I will be tormented by your absence unless for some unknown reason you should make the news.  You, my darling, are full of surprises so I will leave it up to the gods to decide.

Sweetie, it’s now dusk as I sit around my dining table on this November day, the first  day after the ticker tape parade, savoring a bowl of delicious Caribbean style red-peas soup with some of its popular ingredients…cornmeal dumpling, carrots, cho-cho and Jamaican yellow yam which has been dubbed the most famous performance enhancing food.  This yellow yam strikes like a lightning bolt.  Hence it would be awry of me not to mention that I am in my athletic prowess and if by chance you should walk through the door of my amorous world, you would hit a home run on the first pitch followed by lots of teeny RBIs (smile).

My sugar dumpling, I have noticed that you have become quite vulnerable among the female species, young and old alike.   As for me, I will not tell you the category that I am in.  Let’s say that age is just a number.   However, I can make you privy to the fact that I am like good wine, I improve with age.  The taste lingers.   Darling, if I could only have my way with you I would not let you go anywhere at night because that’s when your eyes shine the brightest, making you susceptible to lingering arms.  If you were a ball I would catch you as often as I can and squeeze you long enough to make you speak forgettable promises.

Honey, I must confess that most of my friends are in cahoots against you, in the same way they did when they found out that I had a crush on BB.  My friends have made it clear to me that I have a tendency to gravitate towards rude boys or boys who have had their names dragged through mud because of their alleged affair with some sort of pharmaceutical stuff, maybe cough syrup.  There is no doubt in my mind that my friends’ strong principles over-powered me and because of that I walked away from BB.  Leaving BB was not of my own free will.  Sugar, I know you will detest hearing this but less you forget a strong relationship requires honesty.  I am no paragon of virtue.  We have had past relationships if not marriages.  On the other hand this doesn’t mean that I should divulge everything about my past to you.  Life is peculiar and perhaps one day we might get into an argument and throw the past in each others face.  My Granny taught me well, she would sum it up by saying “Eat some and keep some.” Baby, if BB had done wrong there is forgiveness furthermore I do believe in second chance.  To the accusers, If ye be without sin cast the first stone.

Honey, in all that’s fair, my friends have a right to free speech but one thing I know they are not going to stop me from giving you is my heart.  Akon, in one of his songs, has it down to a “T”…Nobody wanna see us together…   Boo, my love for you is unconditional.  I am staying with you in my fantasy world.   I am not walking away like I did with BB.  I know a good thing when I see it.   There are days when I imagine you and I sitting against a rock at the Dunns River Falls in Jamaica while the cool water heaves over our bodies.  At another time I imagine taking you to a reggae filled dance hall where we would rub a dub to Beenie Man’s Yes nyah cool nuh Iyah, who am I, just the girls’ dem sugar...  After leaving that spot we would go to our hotel and mellow-out to Bob Marley’s One love one heart let’s get together and feel alright…

Baby love, the fun in this tropical would have you doing double takes and repeating the 23^rd Psalm in a different way…The Lord is my shepherd, I have what I want.  You would become my favorite coconut tree.   I would climb you on starry nights and moonlit nights.  Furthermore our trip wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t take you to my home-town which was one of the first free villages in Jamaica.  I would take you to see all the relics and branding tools from the slave era.  I would take you to Trial Hill the place where the slaves were tried for their supposedly ill deeds.  While you look on in wonder and lament at the history, in my heart I would be secretly wishing that you would become my slave.

What joy…what bliss…you are my seventh heaven.  Mucho hugs and kisses.

Your fantasy girl from a distance,

GMADA

Tah-tah!  The mind is a terrible thing to waste.

Copyright © 2009 Grace Dunkley-Asphall

"Bitch better get me number 28!"

The New York Yankees haven’t won a World Series in nine hours.  George Steinbrenner rose from his sarcophagus early this morning furious that his team hadn’t won any more championships while he was sleeping.  He immediately called Brian Cashman and woke him up to scream at him about the Yankees need to win a 28th championship ASAP.  When Cashman pointed out that they just won number 27 last night, Steinbrenner replied, “The Yankees don’t settle for past glory.  We can’t rest on our laurels based on past success.  We go out and win every day.”  When Cashman pointed out that it’s impossible to win today, as the baseball season just ended and won’t resume until February, Steinbrenner dismissed him with, “The Yankees don’t make excuses.  If you can’t get me championship number 28, then I’ll find someone else who can.”  Cashman then had no choice but to immediately sign Carlos Delgado, Mark DeRosa, Chone Figgins, Jason Bay, Matt Holliday, Rick Ankiel, Vladimir Guerrero, Ken Griffey Jr., Rich Harden, and Jason Veritek (just to stick it to Sox fans).

This picture is taken from the future, right before Cliff Lee's arm falls off.

Phillies’ manager Charlie Manual announced his starting pitchers for game 6 and 7 of the World Series: Cliff Lee.  The Phillies’ ace is coming off a game 5 win on Monday, after pitching a complete-game win in game 1, and will be coming off a two day rest and zero day rest between his next starts.  Manual said that Lee would also pitch game 7, since the Yankees haven’t beaten him yet.

While there is no precedence for starting a pitcher three games in a row in a series in baseball history, Manual is confident that Lee gives his team a better chance to win that any other pitcher he could put on the mound.  Manual said he is also considering juggling his lineup so that Chase Utley can bat every time, unless Utley is currently on base, in which case he will pinch-run for Utley so that Utley can bat again.

Damon sees third base open and Feliz behind him.

Yes, Johnny Damon became famous as one of the key guys on a team that bragged about being a bunch of idiots.  Yes, he  married a stripper who he started dating because his friend Derek Lowe, who was nailing her at the time, said “Dude, you have to sleep with this chick.  It’s awesome!”  But regardless of his level of intelligence in real life, in last night’s World Series game 4 Johnny Damon pulled one of the smartest plays I’ve ever seen on a playoff baseball game and sparked a rally for the Yankees off of Phillies’ closer Brad Lidge almost entirely by himself.  First, he fought off several pitches to extend his at bat, and stayed patient until he got a pitch he could do something with.  After singling to left, Damon immediately stole on the first pitch, in order to keep Mark Texiera from having to take strike two or three if he had stolen later in the count.  But on top of that, Damon ended up stealing both second and third base on the same play when he realized that the Phillies defense had shifted to the right side to account for Texiera pulling the

Damon out-races Feliz to an uncovered third base for two steals in one play.

ball while batting lefty.  When Carlos Ruiz’s throw pulled Pedro Feliz to the right side of the base, Damon realized there was no one covering third, and immediately popped up and avoided Feliz on his way to third base while the Philles could do nothing but watch in horror as Damon stole two bases on one play.  Two batters later, A-Rod doubled Damon home for what would prove to be the winning run.  Watch the play below (fast forward to the 1:20 mark for Damon’s AB and steal).

It looks like Joe Girardi is pleading with the umpire, but he's really telling him that he will karate chop the sh*t out of him f his bad calls cost the Yankees a title.

Good morning , Bud Selig.  Did you sleep well?  I f#cking hope not.  Your playoffs have been a joke, with at least 7 horrendous calls that easily could have been overturned with instant replay.  But you don’t want instant replay because you’re a baseball “purist.”  Really?  Where was your baseball purity when you turned a blind eye to steroids?

I think your aversion to instant replay stems from the fact that you’re old, and old people are scared of both change and technology.  Right now you’re acting like the dad from Footloose.  “Replay will be the end of the game!”  “Using technology to get the calls right is the devil.”  “If we allow instant replay, what’s next?  Robots?  It’s gonna be robots, isn’t it?  Well I don’t want to live in a world of robot umpires.”  You probably still think that rock and roll leads to premarital sex [note: It does, but that's a good thing, idiot.].  So get with it, Bud.  The fans demand instant replay.  Whatever you do, you can’t f#ck it up more than it’s already f#cked up.  You might as well have Enrico Pallazo umpiring these games with the way they’re going.

Oh, and the Yankees won 3-1.

9 IP, 6 H, 0 BB, 10 K, 0 ER

To further illustrate how on point Lee was last night, he threw 122 pitches, 80 for strikes.  9 of his 10 strikeouts were swinging.  That’s filthy stuff right there.  To be throwing strikes with that frequency, but making those strikes unhittable is about the best anyone can pitch in a game.  To have double-digit strikeouts without walking a single batter is about as good as anyone can do.  To only allow one extra base hit in 9 innings against one of the most relentless lineups in baseball history is more than you can ask from any pitcher.  But to do these things in game 1 of the World Series against one of the most dominant aces in baseball in the other team’s stadium is unheard of.  I could go on forever about just how good he was last night, but instead, I’ll just give you Cliff Lee’s dominance in picture montage form.

The first batter of the 4th inning, Mark Texiera, whiffing.

The second batter of the 4th inning, Alex Rodriguez, whiffing.

The third batter of the 4th inning, Jorge Posada, whiffing.