It's The Olympics, Baby!

  I’m not going to talk too long about the Yankees. The slide into oblivion has become too much for even a devout follower to take. I don’t care that the team is only 1.5 games behind the AL East-leading Orioles. That gulf might as well be as wide as the Indian Ocean. 

After getting humiliated by the Mets—a team definitely on an upward swing and with a lineup that has some pop in it —there simply isn’t a cure for the ailments that the Yankees have. Even with Giancarlo Stanton nearing a return from his hamstring injury or last season’s phenom Jason Dominguez readying for a rehab stint in the minors, that’s not going to be enough. The starting pitching is woefully inconsistent, and last year’s Cy Young Award winner Gerrit Cole was blasted by the Mets for a second time this season. Relief pitching is even worse. 

Whatever trades GM Brian Cashman makes are likely not to be enough to right this ship. Fan Duel might have given the Titanic better odds of not sinking than the Yankees having a meaningful revival. 

Maybe a managerial shakeup is needed. Aaron Boone has tried hard to turn the tide on losing. The team hasn’t gotten his calming message. Even doing that is a shot in the dark which likely won’t help. 

But somebody needs to take the blame for this debacle and it isn’t going to be Cashman at this time. One cannot hide behind injuries and believe that losing Stanton, Anthony Rizzo, Jose Trevino and reliever Ian Hamilton among others is simply the root cause of the problems. 

A team which looked like world beaters earlier this season is a shell of that image. No matter how hard Aaron Judge and Juan Soto try by themselves to carry the team, they simply can’t. The Mets pitched around Judge and he looked lost at the plate when they chose to pitch to him. 

As for Soto, despite being bothered by a recurring had/wrist injury, the guy is showing why he will be so valuable when free agency occurs. It’s just a question of whether staying in the Bronx is the answer, no matter how well he gets along with Judge and the rest of the team. Having seen the Mets in four games and knowing that owner Steve Cohen would open the vault to pay him, is it really possible that Soto will remain a Yankee after this disaster?

This Saturday is my annual trip to Baltimore. The Orioles host the San Diego Padres, series winners over AL Central leader Cleveland and a below .500 Washington team on the current road trip. The Padres are virtually tied with St. Louis for the final NL Wild Card slot. I expect some inspired baseball with the O’s mired in a 3-7 slide while the Padres are playing solid ball. At least the Yankees won’t be playing until the 4:05 contest is over on Saturday so that I won’t be scoreboard watching and be angrily distracted. 

No matter that baseball is the summer game. The Summer Olympics return to Paris for the first time in 100 years. These games have the potential to be spectacular. 

Understand that I am not an Olympics zealot. I will not be glued to my TV or seeking constant updates on many of the myriad of events on the docket. It’s just not me.

I have seen the remnants of Summer Olympics venues in Los Angeles, Palo Alto, Rome, London, Atlanta, Montreal and most recently in St. Louis, and I have visited Winter Olympics sites in Lake Placid, Salt Lake City, Vancouver, Calgary and Squaw Valley. Our family has an upcoming trip to Barcelona. I am hardly immune from recognizing the greatness of these Games. A college classmate shared his adventure running on the Olympic turf in Athens—how cool was that!. 

While it is a worldwide spectacle of peaceful competition, politics is always a part of it. Look at the US boycott of the Moscow Games as evidence of how the world’s geo-political forces can disrupt such a majestic event. 

For instance, boxing used to be a staple of the Olympics coverage. We knew who Cassius Clay was or knew about Teofilo Stevenson and Sugar Ray Leonard. I cannot name one boxing hopeful from the US or in the world. That’s how times have changed.

Will I be watching basketball? Of course. Yet with much trepidation given how the US men have flirted with losses in three exhibition games and the women’s team soundly beaten by the WNBA All Stars. 

Are the Americans favorites in these Games? Yes. However, the world has nearly caught up with the US dominance in this sport. Look at the NBA—how many teams are dotted with non-Americans who are the most capable stars? That should have been the first marker of how difficult this and future chances for Olympic gold might be. 

With Lebron James steering the ship, we should be in good hands. The Americans are very talented if lacking a little in size. The wild card to winning is encapsulated in one calf—that of Kevin Durant. If Durant is healthy and plays like himself, the Americans could even dominate. Right now, that is a big if. 

On the women’s side, as long as Diana Taurasi is playing well, the Americans will have a superior team. What she, like Lebron, brings as leadership to a group which is talented but still needs to coalesce, is the greatest intangible. 

Of course, there is women’s gymnastics. There is one performer who should capture gold—Simone Biles. All eyes will be following her as she tries to add more medals to an already full bucket. And will the highly talented Americans with Biles prevail in the team competition? My daughter, my resident gymnastic “wonk,” believes so. 

On betting sites, the United States is heavily favored to win the most medals and take home the most gold. China is expected to finish second, followed by Great Britain. We are heavy favorites in swimming and track and field. The stars are Katie Ledecky and Caeleb Dressel in the water and New Jersey’s own Sydney McLaughlin-Levrone on the track.

There are 329 events in 39 sports. Breaking—a.k.a. Break Dancing—makes its Olympics debut. There will be competition in Marseilles and Tahiti, and the triathlon will have swimmers immersed in the bacteria-laden Seine River. Ooh la la. 

Moreover, there is the competitiveness of the sprinting involving the Americans and the Jamaicans. The Chinese receive a pass on doping for their swimmers. Russia will send only a dozen to France amidst its ongoing war in Ukraine. The Canadians were cited for flying a drone over a rival’s practice. A top Japanese female gymnast was sent home for violating the team’s ban on smoking.

There will be protests. There will be potential strikes. This is, after all, France we are talking about. 

NBC has the coverage on its networks and via streaming. Opening ceremony hosts include Kelly Clarkson, Peyton Manning, Mike Tirico and the tireless duo from The Today Show, Savannah Guthrie and Hoda Kotb. 

Lebron and tennis player Coco Gauff will carry the US flags in the Opening Ceremony. Why Snoop Dogg is in this pageantry baffles me. 

It should be great theater. The Olympics always has its drama. Get ready for some non-baseball excitement. 

This beats watching the Yankees flounder or read about the daily machinations of the Jets, Giants and Travis Kielce in training camp. 

To paraphrase the great Dick Vitale, who once more is locked in a battle with cancer: It’s the Olympics, Baby! Enjoy. 

I Am A MLB All Star Game Addict

  The MLB All Star Game happened on Tuesday night. Indeed, it is a happening, as the best stars in baseball celebrate the game in July, in the middle of the season, for two glorious days, then return to the rigors of the long season to determine a champion. 

Unlike other all star contests, this game is played harder—even if it is for sheer entertainment. How can it not be when pitchers are throwing at 100+ m.p.h., trying to strike out an array of sluggers who are household names?

I fell in love with this game as a child. Then again, I have loved baseball since I was a child. And still do. 

At all levels of competitive baseball, there are all star teams. I was fortunate to make two squads in Highland Park, participating in one game against Jamesburg (we lost). It meant the world to me to be among the best in my small town. 

Think how that must feel for those who excel at the highest levels and are selected to represent their particular league in the All Star Game. To borrow an advertising slogan from Master Card: “Priceless.” For good reason. 

While gifted with superior athletic talent, the inner child comes out quickly for those chosen to participate. The need to compete is always present, yet they smile and joke with their opponents when on the base paths, at bat or on the mound. Who wouldn’t be happy to be there—with the best of the best?

It isn’t about the money—only a few players have All Star Game clauses in their contracts and the winning team players only receive about $25,000 for the game. It’s the accomplishment and the accolades that accompany such a feat. Which is what a player relishes.

There are always a few moments in a game which are noteworthy. First, Pittsburgh’s Paul Skenes, one year removed from pitching for LSU, became the first top pick from the preceding draft to start in the ASG.  He has earned this start in just 11 MLB appearances, where he has taken baseball by storm, including his last start, seven innings of no hit ball. 

Skenes faced the top of the AL order. While he easily sat down Cleveland’s Steve Kwan, the leading hitter for average this season, and M.V.P. candidate Gunnar Henderson from Baltimore, he ran into difficulty with the Yankees’ Juan Soto. 

Fans were hoping for a chance to see Skenes face New York slugger Aaron Judge in a mano-a-mano matchup. 100 m.p.h. velocity versus Triple Crown-type power. That was only going to happen if Soto reached base.

Soto, with one of the best batting eyes in baseball, had virtually guaranteed that this matchup would eventuate. And he made good on his promise by drawing a base on balls from the Pirates’ pitcher in a tough at bat.

Alas, we didn’t get to see much. Judge swung on the first pitch he saw and grounded to third base to end the inning. Still, we were treated to Skenes showing on the national spotlight he is simply that good. Of course, we were able to see his diminutive girlfriend, LSU gymnast/influencer Livvy Dunne, cheer him on. 

The star for the National League notwithstanding Skenes was Shohei Ohtani. The former Angels pitcher/outfielder, now wearing Dodger Blue, was the NL designated hitter. In the third inning, he ended his home run drought in the Midsummer Classic by belting a 400 foot homer off  Tanner Houck of Boston to put the NL up by 3-0. With that majestic swat, Ohtani became the first player to be the winning pitcher in an All Star Game and subsequently collect a home run. Don’t be surprised if the Japanese star adds a win as a pitcher for the National League in the future. 

Remember that guy Soto, who the Yankees traded for and who may be testing the free agency market at the end of the season, regardless of how the Yankees fare? He had a blast with Judge, his new bestie, when miked up in the field. He prevented a double by quickly retrieving a base hit with a rocket throw to second base. 

That wasn’t enough. In the bottom of the third inning, Texas’ Marcus Semien singled and Kwan drew a walk. Henderson was retired and up stepped Soto. He lined a hit to center field and surprised the NL by taking second when the toss was slow in coming back to the infield. Suddenly it was 3-2 NL. Judge again grounded out to third. Local kid David Fry, representing Cleveland, drove in Soto with a single in his first ASG place appearance and it was 3-3. Soto’s double and 2 R.B.I. placed him with names like Jeter, DiMaggio and Gehrig who did the same. All with a great grin on his face. 

The American League won the game 5-3 courtesy of a two run homer from Boston’s Jarren Duran in his first ASG at bat. Duran was named M.V.P.

All totaled, there were 32 first time players at the 2024 All Star Game. They were there along with the hoi polloi like Soto, Judge, Jose Ramirez, Bryce Harper and Chris Sale, among others. 

Wins leader Philadelphia placed seven on the NL team. The Dodgers had six on the squad and San Diego put five on the roster. Cleveland and Kansas City led the AL team with 5 and 4, respectively. Baltimore had the opening AL battery with Corbin Burnes starting and Adley Rutschman catching him. Kansas City duplicated that later with Salvatore Perez catching and both Cole Ragans and Seth Lugo on the mound. 

AL pitchers recorded nine strikeouts, with flame throwers Mason Miller, Kirby Yates and Emanuel Clase each string out two batters. Oakland’s Miller was the winning pitcher while Hunter Greene from Cincinnati suffered the loss. San Diego’s Robert Suarez faced two hitters and set them down on strikes in an impressive eight pitch effort. Both teams threw plenty of strikes. While the AL won, the team only had five hits compared to ten by the NL. 

Was this a masterpiece All Star Game? Hardly. I had thoughts about Willie Mays, in my mind, the quintessential player in All Star Game history. I didn’t see him enough in the regular season, and I was way too young to see him in his New York prime. 

But I did see him on the national stage year after year in the All Star Game. Mays would terrorize pitchers with his strong batting, then go wild on the base paths or defensively come up with gem after gem. 

At my first baseball game at Yankee Stadium, I heard teens arguing over who was the greatest center fielder in baseball—the Yankees’ Mickey Mantle; Brooklyn’s Duke Snider; or Mays of the Giants. It was a heated discussion which I only had Mantle as my frame of reference, so I knew no better. 

Watching the All Star Game annually and twice from 1959 through 1962, I was able to see Mays excel. As much Mantle was beloved, he was the best switch hitter and my childhood favorite Yankee. Willie Mays was the best centerfielder ever and his name resonated with the greats of all time—Ruth, Gehrig, Williams, Aaron. 

I still watch the All Star Game with great interest. This year was a little bit sadder with the recent passing of such a legend. 

One last thought. With so many new players in this year’s contest, the thought crossed my mind as to how many will remain with their original franchise. In researching the topic, 190 players all time have remained with their team for their entire careers. Twenty-six names are Yankees. Thirteen active players are with their only team for more than 10 years and three were All Stars—Jose Altuve, who was injured; Perez from Kansas City; and Cleveland’s Ramirez.  In this day of free agency and trade deadlines, that’s amazing. How many in the group which played will add to that number is small and will be determined. Remember—Mays, Aaron and Ruth did not stay with their original teams. 

On that note, it is on to Trust Park in suburban Atlanta for the 2025 game. You know I will be watching. I am a MLB All Star Game addict. 

Waylaid By The Yankees

  Okay, when it comes to sports, specifically the teams I root for, I am not too good at keeping promises. Example #1 would be the New York Yankees.

In my last blog, I stated rather emphatically that I would not watch the team spiraling out of control. The constant losing was eating me up.

When the Yankees ended up losing the home finale against the Boston Red 

Sox, I didn’t watch. Nor did I tune in to see how the team was doing against the Rays in St. Petersburg. 

I did receive social media updates through CBS Sports, ESPN and The Athletic. I knew what was happening in near real time. Which didn’t make me any happier, as the Yankees lost another series—now 8 in a row. 

Yet somehow, when the Baltimore Orioles went on a losing skid of their own—being demolished by the Chicago Cubs in Camden Yards by a cumulative score of 21-2, with the games on Wednesday and Thursday being shutouts for the Cubs’ pitchers, Baltimore Manager Brandon Hyde was very unhappy with the effort of his team and let the Chicago and Baltimore media know it. You would believe that his guys would be hungry for some red meat.

So who comes into town but the Yankees. Two teams playing subpar baseball. The top two squads in the AL East, separated by only 2 games as they headed into the final series before the All Star Game. 

To say that these teams do not like each other is an understatement. A lot of it has to do with batters getting hit by pitches. Eleven O’s hitters have been plunked, including star shortstop Gunnar Henderson multiple times. 

Conversely, three Yankees have been hit by Baltimore pitching. The most notorious HBP was when Yankees supernova Aaron Judge was struck on the hand and Yankees fans held their collective breath for a day until the tests came back clean. 

I don’t know if the Orioles pitchers were instructed to pitch inside on Judge or even hit him. Whatever the reason, the Yankees weren’t happy about it.

Opening the three game series for New York was ace Gerrit Cole, still trying to return to his Cy Young Award form of last season. His recent pitching had been encouraging. Given the malaise of the NYY starting pitchers, it seemed that if the Yankees were going to try to right the ship, Cole had to be on top of his game or close to it. Provided the NYY bats would awaken enough and the Orioles would remain in their funk. 

Maybe I haven’t quite given up on my childhood team despite all indications that this ongoing drought might last the remainder of the season without dramatic changes such as trades or a renaissance by DJ LeMahieu, Gleybar Torres and Anthony Volpe, among others. Yankees skipper Aaron Boone has shaken up the lineup repeatedly in effort to awaken the lethargic Yankees bats for more than one game in a series. To no avail. 

Perhaps it was the humidity and heat which caused my brain to seek comfort on television. For in my childhood, watching a hot summer’s night game on our black and white TV in our den, with my father turning on the industrial-size fan and eating cherries, plums and watermelon, that was my nirvana. 

Back then it was Mantle, Berra, Ford, Howard and Maris donning the Yankees uniform. Bona fide stars who would always be in the thick of the game. 

Whether it was Detroit, Cleveland, Kansas City, Washington, Baltimore, Boston or the Chicago White Sox, the game was going to be good. I knew much about the players from watching and reading the papers. 

Maybe it was listening to Mel Allen and Phil Rizzuto wax poetically (or in The Scooter’s case in sometimes mangled English) which drew me in. Or perhaps the sugary fruit had something to do with my mindset. Who knows?

In any case, I made the decision to turn on the YES Network for the telecast. I went into the game with some hope—probably more false optimism than anything else. My mind was made up—I was going to watch the Yankees and Orioles sweat on a hot and humid Friday night by the Inner Harbor with a significant threat of rain in the forecast. 

The Yankees didn’t disappoint me on this night as they wore their perspiration-soaked grey road uniforms and the O’s went with black City Connect jerseys. It was not a sterling effort by New York—the team did enough to hold off the Orioles while scoring four runs to secure the win. 

Cole was not yet at his vintage best, although with a strike out in the game he passed Vida Blue for 67th place all-time. But his six innings kept Baltimore subdued; Cole threw 75 strikes out of 106 pitches while striking out seven and walking just one. 

The bullpen’s best held the Orioles lineup to one hit in the remaining three innings. New York managed seven hits, which included two doubles by catcher Jose Trevino (who hurt his quadriceps running home in the ninth inning and. Is now on the 10 day IL) and a bomb home run from Judge which landed way beyond the high wall in left field. 

What would have been a nice win for the Yankees, placing them only a game behind the Orioles despite the nearly incessant losing, was marred by one incident. One pitch which might change the dynamic of the remainder of the series.

Boone brought in his All Star closer, Clay Holmes, to pitch the ninth inning. It was a save situation and that is the norm for New York. 

Remember that threat of rain? It was raining pretty good by the time the Orioles came to bat for the final time. Holmes, who can make his save chances interesting and sometimes take away a win with a lackluster performance, threw 20 pitches in attaining his 21st save. One of those eight non-strikes is what this game will be remembered for. 

That one errant pitch struck Orioles left fielder Heston Kjerstad in the left ear flap of his batting helmet. With what players said was sickening sound, Kjerstad went down to the ground, not moving for a bit. 

Yankees catcher Austin Wells, into the game to replace the injured Trevino, went to see how Kjerstad was. Holmes was concerned. Kjerstad went his feet and was administered a battery of tests by the Baltimore trainer. Hyde was nearby. 

The decision was made to remove Kjerstad from the game. It was the obvious and correct move. 

Hyde was not happy that Holmes’ pitch hit his player where it did—even if the rain likely contributed to the errant toss. His anger was evident and the manager started to exchange words with a member of the Yankees coaching staff after he had choice remarks for Holmes. Wells tried to restrain Hyde, but couldn’t.  A full-scale scrum evolved, with tensions from previous hit batsmen overflowing with shoves and possibly a few punches tossed. Aaron Judge was in the midst of the fracas, trying to restore order. Trevino somehow made it back to field in support of his pitcher. Both managers barked at each other. 

Order was restored. Hyde was ejected. The Yankees won a very needed game.

The bigger question remains what will be the fallout from this latest episode between teams which do not at all like each other. Will there be more fireworks, or will just baseball be played? Will O’s pitchers become myrmidons of Hyde, seeking revenge for what happened on a steamy Friday night in Baltimore: “A Great Place To Grow” according to former Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake?

I had every intention about discussing Caitlin Clark’s triple double and her streak of double doubles. Or Bronny James’ debut in the NBA. How about this year’s United States men’s basketball squad going through its practices for the upcoming Olympics? Even Tuesday’s All Star Game and the Home Run Derby. All good topics.

Instead, of my own accord, I was once more waylaid by Yankees baseball. By the inner child in me.