Bronx, N.Y., May 14, 2002 — “The boys are back in town,” Thin Lizzy blared over the Stadium loudspeakers at 7:00 pm as I struggled to make it to my seat for first pitch, and I found myself thinking that here was another Stadium tradition, I’m sure, that until now I have let wash over me without realizing it as I stare around the big ballpark in awe trying to drink it all in. I was certainly aware that “Welcome to the Jungle” is often played as the visiting (and home) players start their on-field warmups, and that the Evil Empire music from Star Wars accompanies the announcer calling out the opponents’ starting lineup. And the only way I know that our beloved Paul must have been present is that “Baba O’Reilly” followed “The Boys…,” but I’ll be listening for Thin Lizzy at the beginning of homestands from this day forward.

Cold and windy, it was a night of majestic blasts, patient professional hitters, and nifty defense (take a bow Vandy and Alfonso and, yes, Mr. Abernathy too), but tonight in its essence was just one more overwhelming outing by the Rocket, whose excellence since the 2000 postseason has been nothing short of miraculous. Of course, this is obvious as he continues his inexorable climb up 300-win mountain, but what might not be as clear are a couple of “behind the numbers” beauts I noticed. Aside from the struggle that was the fourth inning and the seventh that saw his count go over 100, he threw 61 pitches during his other five mound trips, only 19 of them balls. And his 20 out of 25 first pitch strikes were highlighted by the fourteen in succession leading up to Toby Hall in the seventh, whom he started and finished with a ball for his second walk — and last pitch — of the night.

Today was the sixth anniversary of Doc Gooden’s no hitter, and four years ago today our beloved troubador of “New York, New York,” Mr. Sinatra, passed on, even if the gales that whipped around the upper deck felt nothing like “Summer Wind.” So it was in the cards for us to have a good night after the 6-0 road trip. Freddy the Fan exhorted Yankee fans to root “vigorously” when I saw him just before the 7:09 first pitch; I did all I could.

And yes, I know that it got ugly with Mr. Colome’s control in the eighth, and you can put Derek almost charging the mound firmly into my “never saw that before” pile. J&J put up tandem fourth inning blasts, Nick got two more hits, Rondell got a hit and scored a run, and Vandy’s opposite field shot to left is worthy of mention too, but the memorable moment for me tonight occurred in the top of the fourth with Jason Tyner at bat. With hot dog wrappers and napkins blowing in the wind all night, home plate ump Tim Tschida was not going to let Rog pitch with a wrapper right in front of the mound in Jason’s line of sight.

Having rooted against Roger for many years and for him for a few, he has brought to mind many a villain and hero in that time. But Felix Unger? Roger bent over, picked up the wrapper and examined it. Impatient and cold for the game to resume, I expected him to jam it in his pocket. But he thought a moment (perhaps “Is that mustard, the stain maker?”), walked to the back of the mound, bent over again and placed it under the rosin bag!

BTW,TYW

YANKEE BASEBALL!!!