Bronx, N.Y., August 5 The Yankees outscored their opposition 58-45 on this recently concluded road trip. We have a 69-41 record, computing to a winning percentage of .627, tops in the American League and trailing only Atlanta in all of major league baseball. We are celebrating our 100th year during this 2002 season, along with our unprecedented achievements of 38 American League Championships and 26 World Championships. So how come I can’t think of anything but the number 12?
Through an educational quirk years ago, I took a few years of Latin. Amid the stirring pronouncements of the renowned orator Cicero and the infamous general, consul, and emperor Julius Caesar, we learned principles of grammar like conjugating verbs, the declensions of nouns, and a smattering of vocabulary. Solid proof that there was no baseball in Ancient Rome? The word for left-handed is “sinister.” I find myself wondering today if the Latin word for 12 is “crazy,” or at least “obsessive.”
The number 12 has been intriguing inhabitants of the planet for a lot more than 12 centuries. Twelve holds a place of prominence among several ancient traditions, peoples, religions and ways of life. The Twelve Tribes of Israel are familiar to most raised in a Western tradition, while a similar percentage of the population of the Arabic world (and much of Islam) is familiar with the Twelfth Imam. Buddhists speak of the Twelve Principles and The Twelve-Linked Chain of Causation, while Hinduism refers seekers of the truth to the Twelve Alvars.
The number hardly loses its significance as we travel through history. Christians believe Jesus had twelve Apostles, the Christian Feast of Christmas is honored in tradition first and then much later with the song, the “Twelve Days of Christmas,” and ancient Rome is credited by some with having the first codified set of laws in its twelve tables. Our years have 12 months, our feet 12 inches. Johnny Mathis’s love will last until the “Twelfth of Never,” pilots at war dreaded being attacked from “12 O’Clock High,” and some of our finest college athletics take place in games featuring teams from the Big Twelve or the Pac Twelve.
Our public school tradition is built on a belief in twelve elementary, intermediate and senior grades, and perpetrators of unlawful activities, whether they are collared by officers occupying One Adam 12 or not, can only hope that their fate is not decided by “Twelve Angry Men.”
A paying crowd of 43,455 witnessed yesterday’s thriller in Anaheim, with untold hundreds of thousands joining in on TV and on radio. It was a marvelous game, illustrating to all who witnessed it how wonderfully exciting this sport can be (much as the three games in the Bronx vs. the Red Sox showed a couple of weeks ago). Beating each other’s brains (and the respective starting pitchers) out during two innings that ended with the score tied 5-5, the teams made a sharp turn toward pitching, defense and slowly mounting innings, and most came to realize that the next run would be critical. The much ballyhooed Yankee defensive outfielders Bernie Williams and Raul Mondesi made some fine plays, but they had to take a back seat to the marvelous diving catches that left fielder Rondell White flashed. On the Angels side of the ledger, although the Yanks (as did the Halos) hit a few long drives, it seemed no ground ball would ever penetrate through that infield if we had a man in scoring position.
And it was the much maligned Yankee bullpen, besting an Angel pen leading the league in many categories, who turned the tide. Kudos to the effective work of Jeff Weaver in his first action after being removed from the rotation once he proved he belonged, to sparkling innings by up-and-down Mike Stanton, to effective work from Karsay and Mendoza, but most of all, to four innings of no-run, two-hit, no-walk, two-strike out pitching by overlooked Mike Thurman.
But it was, after all the 12th game of our 12-game road trip. And eventually the twelfth inning came around. The most important pitches of the game became the 12 balls Scott Shields threw in loading the bases in the top of the twelfth. One could say that by then the Yanks had tired of trying to poke a ground ball through that infield, so mvp candidate Alfonso Soriano beat them in the one way we hadn’t tried: He hit a ball too softly for them to field and throw quickly enough to beat his speedy legs to first. And of course, there was Jorge, pouncing on an Angels mistake like a hawk, scoring the twelfth run after Rondell on Spezio’s unthinking mistake, as he argued with the ump rather than throw home. A 7-5, 12-game road trip.
So I may be ready for (and in need of) a 12-Step Program. But a last word, if you please, before I’m dragged away: The last game was won by No. 12, of course.
BTW,TYW
YANKEE BASEBALL!!!