Scene: New York Post newsroom, bottom of the tenth inning, Game 4 of the World Series.
Editor: He struck Cabrera out! It’s over.
Joel Sherman: Oh well. Season’s over. Good night.
Editor: Wait, where are you going? I need a column on how this relates to the Yankees, and I need it by morning!
Joel Sherman: But … what possible … I mean …
Editor: Do it!
In so many ways Lincecum is Alex Rodriguez: spectacularly rich, successful, famous beyond the contours of a baseball field and even the owner of a catchy nickname. He also lost his job in the postseason … Lincecum has done more with a lesser role while those asked to fill in for a superstar have done so brilliantly … Look, if Rodriguez would have hit in a reduced role or been picked up by those around him, you wouldn’t be reading this sentence. Instead …
I really can’t think of a column with less of a coherent point. If someone can tell me how a benched position player can contribute in the way a pitcher moved into a key bullpen role can, fine, I’ll accept it. But this is not just an apples and oranges comparison. It’s apples and rudimentary lathes.
Folks, it’s not always about the Yankees. Trying to make it so leads to nightmares like this.
People are the absolute worst sometimes. The latest example: someone stole one of Jose Fernandez’s high school jerseys, which had been displayed in his old high school’s dugout for a vigil last night.
That report comes from Anastasia Dawson of the Tampa Bay Times who covered the vigil at Alonso High School in Tampa yesterday. Her story of the vigil is here. Today she has been tweeting about the theft of the jersey. She spoke to Alonso High school’s principal who, in a bit of understatement, called the theft the “lowest of the low.”
The high school had one more Fernandez jersey remaining and has put it on display in the school. In the meantime, spread this story far and wide so that whatever vulture who stole it can’t sell it.
In an earlier post I made a joke about the Indians starting Dennis Martinez if forced to play a meaningless (for them) game on Monday against the Tigers. On Twitter, one of my followers, Ray Fink, asked a great question: If you had to hand the ball to a Hall of Fame-eligible pitcher to give you three innings, who would it be?
The Hall of Fame-eligible part gets rid of the recently-retired ringers, requiring a guy who has been off the scene for at least five years, ensuring that there’s a good bit of rust. I love questions like these.
My immediate answer was Mike Mussina. My thinking being that of all of the great pitchers fitting these parameters, he’s the most likely to have stayed in good shape. I mean, Greg Maddux probably still has the best pitching IQ on the planet, but he’s let himself go a bit, right? Mussina strikes me as a guy who still wakes up and does crunches and stuff.
If you extend it to December, however, you may get a better answer, because that’s when Tim Wakefield becomes eligible for the Hall. I realize a knuckleball requires practice to maintain the right touch and subtlety to the delivery, but it also requires the least raw physical effort. Jim Bouton went well more than five years without throwing his less-than-Wakefield-quality knuckler and was still able to make a comeback. I think Tim could be passable.
Then there’s Roger Clemens. I didn’t see his numbers for that National Baseball Congress tourney this summer and I realize he’s getting a bit thick around the middle, but I’m sure he can still bring it enough to not embarrass himself. Beyond the frosted tips, anyway.
So: who is your Space Cowboys-style reclamation project? Who is the old legend you dust off for one last job?