I'm not one to say that I'm an expert on baseball. I have several friends and associates that could tell you the starting line-up of the Baltimore Orioles from memory and without hesitation, who the middle relievers of the Colorado Rockies are, and who the third base coach of the San Diego Padres is. They qualify as baseball experts to me. Given these standards, I hardly qualify as a baseball boffin. That said, I do have some baseball sensibility left, as I was a die-hard Yankee fan when I was a boy, and thus I do feel qualified to make a somewhat educated judgement on the current state of the New York Yankees.
I'm old enough to remember going to my first Yankees game. The Yankees were in exile from Yankee Stadium and playing in Shea Stadium (named after the Cuban guerilla leader, Che Stadium, didn't you know?). The year was 1975, and the Yankees were playing the Milwaukee Brewers. I was fortunate enough to see Henry Aaron swat a home run over the right center wall, and the Yankees won the game 10-1. A perfect, sunny day-game: Hank Aaron homers, and the Yanks win. Back then, Bill Virdon was the Yanks manager, and their marquee player was Bobby Bonds. They were also a mediocre squad, that '75 group.
All that changed in '76. Billy Martin assumed the reins of management. The Yanks traded Bonds for Mickey Rivers and gained both speed on the bases and a pretty damn good lead-off hitter. Ron Guidry started making an impact. They traded pitcher Doc Medich (a real doctor, from what I remember) for Willie Randolph. Got rid of weird-looking (to me, at least) Pat Dobson. Thurman Munson was a rock behind the plate and timely at bat. And Chris Chambliss always seemed to get the timely hit, none more important than his Game Five blast in the fifth game of the ALCS against the KC Royals, winning the pennant for the Yankees for the first time in a decade and a half. To me, even at this very young age, they seemed like a team.
In '77, the Yanks acquired Reggie Jackson, the "big straw". He may have been an arrogant jerk-off, but I loved him all the same. Clutch at the plate and a strong arm in right field (though a substandard outfielder), Jackson was the missing piece to the Yankees puzzle, coming through with three homers in the '77 World Series. In '78, the Yanks made one of the most amazing comebacks in baseball history, coming back from fourteen games behind to gaining the division championship in early October in a game that still causes consternation in New England. ("Bucky F**ckin' Dent!?!) Martin got fired in mid-season for his mercurial behavior and loose tongue (in describing Jackson and Steinbrenner to the press, Martin said that, "...one's a born liar, the other's convicted."), but Bob Lemon filled in just fine (and without the pathetic antics). I attended the ticker-tape parade with my mom in '78. Somewhere in our house are pictures of the parade.
And then....they dissolved the team. Thurman crashed his private jet-plane and died, and it seemed that the heart of the Yankees was gone. Jackson left a year or two later to the Angels. Nettles found himself on the Padres, Chambliss went to the Braves. Dave Winfield, a great player in his own right, never seemed a good fit for New York. Good players subsequently came up, like Mattingly and Righetti, but the Yankees never seemed like a team anymore. They merely seemed like a bunch of mercenaries throughout the 80's....and they were. The Yankees, after having a great run from '76 to '78, gradually declined into mediocrity, then sub-mediocrity. Steinbrenner, typical of his capricious nature, figured he could win more championships with his checkbook. But the Yankees sucked, year in, year out throughout the 80's and early 90's. To me, they never seemed like a real team. The Yankee emblem over their hearts meant nothing to guys like Jesse Barfield. To me, the low-water mark was getting Steve Trout, a twenty game winner from the Cubs who arrived with much fanfare, only to have lost his ability to throw the ball straight. Pitch after pitch wound up wild or in the dirt. Just awful.
Then something magic happened. Steinbrenner got suspended for attempting to blackmail Dave Winfield, and real baseball people started running the Yankees....and they developed into a real team. Guys from the minors who more often than not would've been trade bait were now able to develop through the system. They were REAL Yankees, developed at their farm clubs from the rookie team in Oneonta through Triple-A Columbus. Slowly but surely they emerged: Pettite, Jeter, Williams, Mo Riviera. A real team. Then the Yanks went, not for superstars, but for solid, clutch character players: Tino Martinez, Scott Brosius, Paul O'Neill. They topped it all off with a vastly underrated managerial pick in Joe Torre. (Remember the headlines in the Daily News on that one? "Clueless Joe"?) And the makings of one of the most dominant rosters in history went on a five year tear, winning four world championships in the process. They did it, not with a field of mercenaries, but with a field of character players. A team.
Which brings us to 2005. Brosius retired a few years back and was eventually replaced by Alex Rodriguez. Andy Pettite was disrespected and found his way to Houston. O'Neill retired. And Steinbrenner re-asserted his insane policy of going after high-priced all-stars who's loyalties lie not with the franchise, but with their paychecks and individual stats sheets. And so the ridiculous signings commenced from 2000 on: Kevin Brown, Randy Johnson, Gary Sheffield, A-Rod. With the exception of Brown, they've all made solid contributions, and at times have even been outstanding. But can anyone make the case that a guy like Johnson or Sheffield actually gives a shit about the franchise, the tradition, and the honor of playing for the most prestigious franchise in baseball, if not all of professional sports? Can anyone say that these guys are character players who, when the chips are down, would do anything to win? Perhaps I'm being a bit harsh, but what kind of esprit de corps do these guys have? What binds this team?
At this point, nothing, so far as I can tell.
Wake me up when George Steinbrenner gets suspended again.
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