Bronx, N.Y., April 25, 2004 — I have two words for a brave and game (and assuredly exhausted) Javier Vazquez this evening. Javy, you are on team that has lots of great hitters, with a lineup that will drive many of your opponents to the showers long before you give up the mound. And Javier, you are a fabulous and talented pitcher who has many glory days ahead in New York.
On a cold and wet Sunday afternoon in the Bronx that the weatherman had promised would be a carbon copy (at least into the evening) of the gorgeous day before, 55,000-plus fans watched the Yankee offense continue to sputter, this time amassing but four hits against Boston ace Pedro Martinez. Succumbing consistently to a hurler who worked the count and home plate ump Phil Cuzzi in his favor on hard stuff to get ahead before finishing batters off with a tantalizing array of curves and change-ups, the Yankee batters were dominated early and failed to take advantage of some very real opportunities late. Martinez coaxed a swing and a miss only nine times, three of them on third strikes, while Cuzzi punched Yankees out for failing to swing four times. Pedro walked only one and never allowed more than one of the four hits in an inning.
The Yankees used the old formula that has become so familiar when facing Boston’s no. 45, getting a great outing from a starter, battling Martinez until his pitch count began to be a factor, and then finishing him, or his replacement, off in the later innings. Javier Lopez, you were magnificent. Check. And struggling Yankee batters or not, it took Pedro Martinez 48 pitches to subdue the Yanks in the fourth and fifth innings. Double check. But when it came time to deliver the knockout punch — or even an effective counter thrust — the Yanks came up short.
Vazquez certainly did his part, dominating the Sox every bit as much as Pedro did the home team, except for the one hanging curve in the fourth. And it’s uncanny that he allowed Ramirez’s home run deep into the visiting bullpen in left two batters after his one and only walk of the day. He struck out every guy in the Red Sox lineup except second sacker Crespo, and he didn’t rely on Cuzzi as much, finishing six of eight off on strikes of the swinging variety. In fact, Lopez coaxed 20 missing swings among his 67 strikes, an unusually high number.
The game opened under a gray and threatening sky. Jorge Posada ran after three foul pops in a swirling wind in the first inning and missed two of them, contributing to the 20-pitch, one hit frame. But a potentially weary (on three days’ rest) Vazquez steadied the ship and retired nine of 10 batters through three on 45 pitches, and got all six swinging strike outs in that time. Martinez, on the other hand, retired nine of 10 too, but one hitter (Williams in the first) went down on one pitch and another three Yankee batters on two, so he strode to the dugout after Jeter’s harmless fly to right to end the bottom of the third having thrown but 34 pitches.
To start the pivotal fourth, the uncanny early-season walk streak that has given Sox third baseman Mark Bellhorn the league lead continued, and Vazquez got Ramirez to swing hard and miss at his first two pitches after whiffing a very unhappy David Ortiz, taking. Ramirez fouled off the third pitch, and Lopez let fly an eye-high floater that Manny tomahawked to left for a 2-0 Red Sox lead. Millar and Varitek lined out to short and center, respectively, but the damage was done.
Pedro seemed to be facing the wily Yankees of old in the bottom of the fourth. Williams and Giambi forced 16 pitches between them before flying to center and left fields sandwiched around an A-Rod single to right, and a steal of second. The crowd rose to its feet as Pedro fell behind 2-0 to Sheffield, who had singled in the second. It was key moment number one, and Shef visibly groused on the third-pitch called strike on a borderline pitch toward the outside corner. He fouled the next offering to go 2-2, but unlike Vazquez, Martinez’s subsequent eye-high floater right toward Shef showed late life with a break down and to the right, and Cuzzi punched the frozen Yankee rightfielder out.
Although Vazquez was more careful after the Ramirez bomb, he retired the Sox on 14 pitches around a Jeter error in the fifth, and survived a 19-toss sixth that became a chore once lefty power hitter Ortiz swung late and dropped one into no man’s land down the left field line that neither Jeter nor Matsui could get to before it bounced high into the stands for a double. Ramirez was fooled on an 0-2 outside curve, but muscled it into short right for a single. But Javy got Millar looking and Varitek closed the frame with a high fly to left, and the 2-0 score held.
The Yanks, meanwhile, got as close as they would all day in the home fifth. It had cost Martinez 25 pitches to survive the long at bats in the fourth, and even though Matsui struck out after Posada’s leadoff walk the next inning, Pedro had thrown 16 pitches with one out and the tying run at the plate. The Yankee fans roared when Sierra lashed a 1-1 pitch into the right field corner, and both tying runs were in scoring position with one out. Light-hitting Enrique Wilson, with something of a reputation as a good hitter against Martinez, stood in the batter’s box awaiting Pedro’s 20th pitch of the frame as the frozen crown screamed for a hit.
I promise you, Javy, this team will come through for you the next time, the next time and yes, even the time after that. Walk away, Javier. You were wonderful, great enough to be embraced by a fanbase whose allegiance to their stars, once they are accepted, is the stuff of legend, almost as legendary as the exploits of the Pinstripers on the field of play.
The game ended quietly really, the cold damp weather prematurely driving the fans from their seats after a second failure. Wilson swung hard and popped up Pedro’s first pitch, and the Yankee hopes ebbed as it fell harmlessly into shortstop Reese’s glove. Jeter followed with a four pitch strike out, taking Martinez’s first and fourth pitches. Williams took all three strikes leading off the sixth, and Rodriguez, alone among his mates as one showing signs of finding his batting eye, short-hopped a double off the right field wall. But Giambi grounded into the teeth of the overshift, Sheffield fouled out on two pitches, and Posada, Matsui, and Sierra sent Pedro happily to the bench after an eight-pitch seventh. The Yanks went six up, six down to Scott Williamson, and the game was over.
There were a few highlights for the frozen many who braved the day, and I don’t mean the minor (and major) skirmishes among fans with competing allegiances that dotted the Tier reserved seats throughout the game, but particularly in the late innings. As mentioned before, A-Rod swung the bat, lining to right on a nice play by Millar in the first (that looked to be an absolute trap from my perch) before his single and double, all three stroked to the opposite field. Both Sheffield and Sierra pulled Pedro on their safeties, so Alex’s drives seemed the residue of design and not of simple good fortune.
A fan several rows back in a Tier Box seat in section 11 down the first base line made an eye-popping, one-handed grab on a hard liner off Ramirez’s bat on a 1-2 count in the first, setting the bar quite high for fellow ticket buyers as dominant pitching caused one foul back after another. But that was it for heroics, as each ball afterward seemed to hit off the hands of at least two or three people before it settled into a lucky fan’s grasp. Another Tier shot over the third base dugout in the seventh found no fans, caroming so hard off a seat that it settled into the glove of a lucky kid in the front row near the home plate screen some 50-plus feet below. With a day off tomorrow, Mariano Rivera came on to pitch the visiting ninth and, as the strains of Enter Sandman elicited the usual howls from the dwindling crowd, the scoreboard announced that with this 522nd stride to the mound in a Yankee uni, Mo was tying the record for most Bomber appearances, previously held by lefty starter and reliever Dave Righetti in the eighties.
For Red Sox and Yankee fans alike, I think the message of this game is clear. Sadly, ex-Met and Phillie reliever Tug McGraw succumbed to his bout with brain cancer six weeks ago. He is still fondly remembered for his patented call to arms for a mediocre Mets team with a great pitching staff in 1973, “You Gotta Believe,” that carried them into the playoffs and the Series despite a barely winning record.
It was last June that Yankee shortstop and leadoff hitter Derek Jeter was elevated into the largely ceremonial position of Yankee Captain. Suddenly his performance at the plate took a dive, as anything he took to right was caught, his power disappeared, he swung and missed when trying to pull, and for two-to-three weeks he couldn’t buy a base hit. The murmurs began as whispers, and grew to grumbles and sneers, as fans worried (or hoped) that the pressure was too great, that despite the great postseason successes with glove and with bat, he could no longer take the Yankee heat. But he turned it around, and three and a half months later, he contested for the league batting title until the last day of the season. Derek is scuffling, as is every one in the Yankee lineup. Yankee fans, Red Sox fans, baseball fans, take note. You don’t have to “believe” anything. You know this player and this team will hit, and when it does, American League East, beware.
But Javier Vazquez, perhaps you don’t know, as you recover from a long, hard, futile day on the Yankee Stadium mound. You’ve been playing ball in Montreal and in San Juan. So this message is for you and you alone:
The Yankees will hit. Believe it.
YANKEE BASEBALL!!!