Oye

  In a week where my son and daughter and a group of friends actually stood in the queue and then on the solemn grounds of Wimbledon (where they got sunburned through the unforgiving English clouds, I ended up watching Opening Day action, hoping for a glimpse of my children and their entourage. No such luck but I did see Coco Gauff lose to Sofia Kenin, a former Grand Slam champion and Venus Williams playing but really having no chance against a younger Elina Svitolina. Hang it up after the U.S. Open, Venus. Please. 

With the heat of July combined with unusually high humidity, exercising has been more difficult if done after 10:00 a.m. Even the relative comfort of my indoor gym has left me sweatier than I have been in a long, long time. Water—and plenty of it—has been my constant companion. 

I know that when I was younger, I could absorb the heat better. I have played tennis and softball in 100 degree heat. Sure, I was thirsty, but my recovery was much quicker. Even my one year of freshman football in the pre-Labor Day sun, while it left me parched and caused me to drink lots of milk with lunch when we had twice daily practices, was doable—even if aided by salt pills (now frowned upon for retention of liquid).

Watching baseball in many locales, both in person and on television, made me think how much the present day baseball player differs from players from 50 or 60 years ago. At Franklin and Marshall, we wore wool uniforms for my first three years before switching to double knit uniforms which were popularized by the St. Louis Cardinals and other teams. 

The wool was heavy—great for cold days but bulky and heavy when the warmer days came about in April and beyond. Plus the wool stirrups we had were itchy and created problems inside of the spikes. 

So if we suffered, imagine what the old times in baseball must have dealt with on a hot day or night in July and August in the big cities with stadiums which didn’t allow for much air to filter in. I went to a Cleveland-Washington Senators game on a Sunday afternoon at the old R.F.K. Stadium in Northeast D.C. This multi-purpose facility had moveable stands for both football and baseball. They shook heavily when fans stomped on them, but the closed stadium with the retained heat on the metal created a sweltering environment in a city already known to be almost unbearable in the summertime. 

Imagine a heat index of over 100 degrees in wool jerseys in the blazing sun and no advanced drinks like Gatorade or even more modern concoctions. Sitting in the stadium was intolerable. Running and being secreted in a dugout must have been worse. With only water and maybe a run into an air conditioned clubhouse to save the athlete from heat prostration—which might have been the rare before air conditioning became more advanced and commonplace, those athletes, not making close to what the lowest-salaried MLB players earn, suffered greatly. 

Fast forward to today’s ballplayer. Their hydration is highly monitored and it is the rare to see a pitcher, catcher or even umpire cramp on the field or in the dugout and have to be replaced. There are fans or cooling units inside of dugouts. The uniforms are nowhere near what their ancestors wore. And fans come in lots of heat-beating attire, in more open-air stadiums (or even domed ones to avoid the heat and humidity in Florida, Texas, Arizona or yes, Wisconsin) and no longer wear ties and jackets with straw hats.

It must be almost bearable to play in California, unless the Santa Ana winds wreak havoc with the temperatures. Plus there are few rainouts up and down the coast. But in Las Vegas it will be imperative to build a dome—look at the daily heat records just this week in the Southwest. 

What made me think about all of the present weather conditions relative to baseball in the Northeast is how the Yankees have been playing. During a seven game homestead against a good Baltimore club and a so-so Chicago Cubs team, the floundering Bronx Bombers have been really good or simply atrocious. 

I would like to pin this team’s unevenness on the weather. It hasn’t been the greatest and in the team’s last road stop in St. Louis, they looked frightful, losing to the Cardinals former Yankees lefty Jordan Montgomery. I wanted to blame the lousy performances on the heat—the Yankees had flown in from cooler Oakland for the three game set and played two of the contests like they were in the deep freeze of March and April. 

Yet in the mugginess of the South Bronx, the team awoke for two games against the Orioles and looked like the dominating force fans expected. Only to succumb to the second place team in the last two games of the four game set, including a dismal 14-1 setback.

In came the Cubbies, playing better lately, including a couple of wins in Milwaukee. Chicago Manager David Ross, a former catcher and then ESPN analyst, took issue with the Brewers closing the roof at American Family Field to create different shadows and an advantage for the home team. Chicago lost that game and came to New York in an ugly mood.

My take on this is simpler and more personal—it can be unbearably hot in the direct sun—my wife and I did that for three hours and were roasted. Thus I wished that the roof had been closed on June 21st when it was a reasonably comfortable 82 degrees. 

Jameson Taillon, the former Yankee pitcher allowed to walk away in free agency, came to town sporting a beard and one of the worst E.R.A. for National League starters. What does he do to the Yankees lineup—he holds the Yanks to one hit over eight dominant innings, out dueling Carlos Rondon in his first outing in pinstripes. 

On Saturday, the bats awoke enough to support ace Gerrit Cole. Giancarlo Stanton hit a mammoth blast then a pole scraper for his first two HR game since May of 2022. The good Yankees were back. Would it be a visit of one or more days?

Sunday’s game proved promising. Back-to-back home runs by Anthony Volpe and Kyle Higashioka staked Domingo German, he of the perfect game in Oakland to a 4-1 lead; German allowed one hit in six strong innings.

However, as soon as German allowed a seventh inning walk, Manager Aaron Boone removed German after 74 pitches. The roof then caved in, first with an error by second baseman Gleyber Torres, then with shoddy pitching. The final score was 7-4 Chicago. 

I went beserk, shutting the TV off, cursing with my frustration. I wanted to blame all this on the weather. But I couldn’t. It wasn’t the heat and humidity. It was the coaching.

During the week, I watched the best team in baseball, the Atlanta Braves. The starting lineup sported no batting average less than .254 and they have aces like Spencer Strider on the pitching staff. Everything looked calm inside of the team’s dugout. Players actually had smiles on their faces. 

The Mets even started off the month of July with a six game winning streak before tumbling to an equally-underperforming Padres team in San Diego. I actually watched them for awhile. The Mets are better than the Yankees currently are. 

Cincinnati, behind phenom Elly De La Cruz, who slugged a long homer after Washington Manager asked the umpires to check his bat and then consecutively swiped second, third and home, looks so much better than the Yankees. Last I looked, it was quite hot in D.C., just like when I was there. 

I had enough when the Yanks folded on Sunday. I went to Netflix’s The Diplomat and enjoyed myself much more. Until I groused again once the episode was over. 

GM Brian Cashman, who never fires a coach in season, did so with the hitting coach. He should have been gone long ago. When rookie phenom Anthony Volpe self-corrected flaws in his swing while watching video over chicken parm at his home in Watchung, I said the hitting coach was no good. 

Harrison Bader letting hittable fastballs go by and repeatedly striking out or hitting weak grounders on pitches outside of the strike zone is the result of a coaching philosophy. One which has messed up the swings of nearly every Yankees hitter in some way. 

The coaching staff failed the players. I wanted to blame it on the weather but I couldn’t. It bothers me more. 

Is the season salvageable? I don’t know. I don’t like the feeling of being let down by a team which should be producing. Too many high-priced veterans for this team not to be in the playoffs.

In the sage words of incoming AFC Richmond manager Roy Kent, who wouldn’t blame the weather, this describes the current plight of the New York Yankees: oye.