Bronx, N.Y., May 25, 2002 — Sometimes it pays to be greedy. Simply because we have been Sunday season plan holders for years, Sue and I had managed to witness Perfect Games in back-to-back years. And having added to our ticketage incrementally by purchasing the B (midweek) Plan after experiencing difficulty getting 1998 playoff tickets, the last thing we needed was for me to attend an additional Saturday game.

But on titular tax day (April 15) in 2000, Sue wanted the freebie magnetic schedule for a blank spot on the fridge, and I preferred a day in the Bronx to a friendly visit to our new digs by her very pleasant family.

Benefiting from our compromise solution, I looked out on a sunny day as Ramiro Mendoza took the mound against Jose Rosado and the Kansas City Royals. What I saw thrilled me to the core of my being, as Ramiro flirted with perfection and retired the first 19 Royals to come to the plate. When second baseman Carlos Febles lined a one-out, 0-1, seventh-inning single the ovation was long and lusty for the thrill we had been provided. Literally brought to tears by the drama and excitement I had enjoyed, I had to wonder if Ramiro was going to finally get the stardom he deserved. Alas, it was not to be, as his sometimes-starter, sometimes short relief, sometimes long relief use resulted in career-threatening surgery, and some wondering if his days as an effective Yankee hurler had ended with the signing of Steve Karsay as our right-handed setup man this past offseason.

These memories came rushing to the fore today as Ramiro made a literally miraculous relief appearance and saved the Yankees from falling another game behind the Red Sox in the standings. Perhaps even more significant, it restored the faith of many Yankee faithful, who had to wonder if the new ownership of our nemesis had managed to sweep clean the back rooms and caverns of venerable Fenway, where the self-perpetuating fears and bitter “Curse”-centered resignation lurk, inexorably interfering with the efforts of that brave 25 to overcome. And how fitting that this win fall on the 77th anniversary of Babe Ruth’s last three homers, playing for a Boston-based franchise, though not the Red Sox.

And it wasn’t the first time Ramiro had spun his web against this selfsame opponent, as any who witnessed the 1999 ALCS surely remember. On October 14, 1999, in ALCS Game 2 in the Bronx, Ramiro came on in the 8th inning to strike out pinch hitter Butch Huskey on five pitches with the bases loaded and one out in a one-run game. Amazingly Stanton, Nelson and Watson had all pitched in the frame and only garnered one out while filling the bases. Ramiro calmly induced Offerman to fly harmlessly to center to finish the inning, and Mo closed as we took a two games to none lead. Then, with the Yanks up three games to one on October 18, 8th-inning history repeated as Varitek homered to right on a 1-0 count and Garciaparra doubled to left. Mike Stanton relieved and walked O’Leary. Nelson induced Stanley to fly out to center and then Watson walked Huskey, who had pinch-hit for Daubach. Mendoza strolled to the mound and struck out Hatteberg, who was pinch-hitting for Lewis, and got Nixon to foul out to third.

Another Mendoza/Red Sox confrontation on June 14, 2000, is worthy of mention. It was a Wednesday day game. Roger, throwing hard against Pedro in a Bronx that still hadn’t quite accepted him, hurt his groin warming up. He then proceeded to aggravate it in a 27-pitch first inning during which he followed Jeff Frye’s base hit by walking the bases loaded, popping up Carl Everett with one out and finally striking out Daubach on the second 3-2 pitch. It was small consolation that we were able to scratch a run off Pedro on Chuck’s double, Paul’s infield single, Bernie getting hit by a pitch and a walk against the protesting Martinez by Posada on a two-out, 3-2 pitch. We had a 1-0 lead after one, but we were in our pen (in the person of Ramiro) with 24 outs to go. Not as sharp as he had been April 15 (or as lucky as I had been the same day), el bruho struggled through 87 pitches in getting us almost through the seventh, when Nomar tied it up on a shot to left. He had been extended to 18 pitches in the fifth when he whiffed Everett with runners on first and second, both of whom reached safely on infield hits off infielders’ gloves in a three-pitch span (Tino, then Brosius). We won when Tino took Wakefield out with two outs in the eighth.

You may not agree that the magic our personal witch doctor worked today, and has worked so many times in the past, should be properly referred to as a “Love Potion.” But that four-letter word is descriptive of how I feel about him, and, considering that much of what he brings to the table would earn him nothing in an arbitration hearing, I like to think that it partly motivates him too. And I needn’t explain, in our sport, why I like the “No. Nine” part. “My friend the Witch Doctor, he told me what to…say”:

BTW,TYW

YANKEE BASEBALL!!!