Bronx, N.Y., August 4, 2002 — Although I freely paraphrased from the title of a classic Rolling Stones hit from 1969 for the title (and the theme) of this column, it could have been just as aptly named, “Be careful what you wish for…” Of course, you’ll notice I replaced (or transposed) the last word I show of the Stones title with want (did you know that “You can get anything you want” in 1969’s movie [and song] Alice’s Restaurant?). The point is, I guess, it can be kind of dicey when you’re rooting in a game that, to be complete, generally has at least 51 individual outcomes (outs — and hundreds of pitches) choosing which verb (need, wish, want) to utilize, and when.
I’m sure I don’t feel much different from most Yankee fans when I see Troy Percival stride to the mound. It is a painful sight, one not associated with any pleasant fan memories. And in this case it’s not because of my disturbing tendency to forget so much, it’s because there is nothing pleasant to remember. As a Yankee fan still feeling the pain of Luis Gonzalez’s Series-deciding bloop last November 4, rooting this year has taken on a special feeling, a kind of Crusades-type fervor (without all the infidelity, betrayal and brutality, of course) that we must retake the Ring that is rightfully ours. Victory is Job One. There are no side issues.
The frustration of the early eighties, for instance, had me focussing much of my energy on the plight of our beloved Scooter, the man whose name had become synonymous with Yankee Baseball, and insisting that he needed to be voted into the Hall of Fame. So when (as a public relations ploy, one that may have eventually borne fruit, as Phil was voted in by the Veterans Committee nine years later) the Yankees staged Phil Rizzuto Day on August 4, 1985, my brother and I were proud to attend. We did not expect, however, to be among the few in an almost full house to root for the Scooter (and a Yankee win). Unfortunately, that Stadium party became more famous as the setting for (at the time) Chicago White Sox hurler Tom Seaver’s 300th win in his home city against the Bombers. I thoroughly enjoyed the pregame fete for Phil and Cora (including the infamous “step on his foot” incident with one of his gifts, the “Holy Cow”), but the smile had long left my face after hearing 50,000 cheer on our 4-1 loss that day in the House That Ruth Built.
Then again, in 1990, thinking back on the glory days of Ruth and Gehrig, Joe D and Casey, Rajah and the Mick, I decided I needed to have another good old-fashioned power hitter in the South Bronx. And again, I got my wish. On August 3, 1990 Kevin Maas set the major league record as the player to stroke 10 homers in the fewest number of at bats (72), but the Yankee season crashed and burned because we hadn’t yet learned the lesson that pitching wins championships. (We did win it all in 1998, when Shane only had 67 at bats and recorded 10 dingers, but I’m crediting that with Yankee luck and not Yankee fan wisdom on my part.)
So when I made a silent request (prayer, if you will) yesterday that with this heat wave I needed to spend the day in air-conditioned comfort, I of course did not have in mind driving around the New York borough of Queens as a favor to my father, but the car’s interior was cool as I drove in circles listening to the Yankees and el duque slowly and inexorably fall behind 4-0 to the Angels. The feeling of frustration and helplessness grew as I searched in vain for signs pointing me to the Whitestone Bridge or, failing that, any route to the more familiar borough of Manhattan.
I, for one, did not need the stat guys on radio, TV, the Web or the papers to tell me this morning that we had never handed Troy Percival a blown save before last night. Of the 13 games in a row where he sucessfully recorded saves against us, I have attended and scored at least three in the Bronx, and you might find some of the game particulars amusing (I know I do).
On Sunday afternoon, August 26, 1998, Troy pitched the ninth in a 6-4 Angels victory. The starting pitchers: Rising Pinstripe star (!) Ryan Bradley vs. former Yank and general baseball pariah (I don’t know why) Jeff Juden. Again, Troy dampened my wishes (and evening) on Tuesday night, May 11, 1999, in a 9-7 Angels win. The two runs that beat us, ironically, were surrendered by Ramiro on a homer (this one to Garret Anderson) and a Mo Vaughn single off Dan Naulty. (Troy got Paulie looking for the second out of the ninth and O’Neill went ballistic with Greg Kosc, btw. I never thought I would be nostalgic about that part of our beloved Warrior’s game.) But even when the Halos visited us in August 2000 with Troy out with an injury, imagine the frustration I felt when Shigetosi Hasegawa recorded two saves in Troy’s stead. And then Percival was back for save No. 13 on Sunday, August 5, 2001, a 4-3 win, one where we actually nicked him, but Jeter’s rbi single was too little too late largely due to the (as usual) failed results of the gone but not forgotten Jay Witasik.
So yes, I’m here to confess to my failure. In a life dotted with experiences that could be easily translated into one of those morality tales where a man, given three wishes, inevitably chooses disastrously, I want to testify. Hideously lost on the back streets of Maspeth Queens as the count to Bernie fell to 0-2, I bellowed to no one in particular, “After all these tries, just let Bernie get him, just this one time. That’s what I need!!!”
Of course I got it. And of course, that’s not what I needed. What I needed was a win, a game where we would not fail to make the Red Sox rue another loss to mediocre opposition. And regardless of the iron fist Troy and the Angels bullpen have wielded over our offense through the years, 2002 has been kind to our lineup. After the September run droughts in 2000 and 2001, with the latter’s extending throughout the postseason, we have been routinely beating our opponents into submission. What we need now is some pitching, and relief pitching in particular, with Roger’s 40th birthday today being accompanied by promising reports of better health, Andy’s recent mastery, the continued better-than-adequate work of Boomer and the Duke, the Rangers beating up on other hurlers besides Moose, and the recent encouraging outing by Mr. Weaver, the concern is clearly in the pen.
I want them to continue to hit. I want continued proof that I have the best rotation in baseball (and six deep too). I want the Red Sox to continue to stumble along the way. But what do I need? What I really need is a turnaround in the pen. Am I glad that we finally spanked Troy? Not if we didn’t win the game, I’m not. Remember, I’m on a Crusade. I need No. 27.
YANKEE BASEBALL!!!